Thank you for making it this far in my portfolio. Here's a random assortment of things that generally serve no purpose beyond my own (and maybe your) amusement. 
 
Horace the Horse by Porch Pals
 
My friend Donny and I were playing guitar on his porch when the neighborhood kids descended upon us demanding we "play something that slaps.”

 

And thus, Porch Pals was born. We're a wholesome, folksy duo that both children and adults enjoy. I'm proud to say that we do indeed "slap."

Written by Max Frankel and Donny Fraunhofer.

Produced by Donny Fraunhofer. 

 

lil' 401k

 

Sometimes I rap under the name lil' 401k. My message is simple: fiscal responsibly is cool.

Click on the highlighted lyrics below for annotations and additional contextRap Genius style.

Keepin' It Prudent 

Lil 401k

Produced by Don Fraunhofer

Lil 401k ft. Big Lev
00:00 / 01:54

LIL 401K LYRICS

My name is Lil 401k and y’all surely wanna know, 

I make good-ass decisions when my hands touch the dough,

I got Roth-IRAs that’ll make my 60s glow

Whatchu got — you got cars? 

I got assets that grow.

 

My credit score — impeccable 

Home made meals — delectable

Purchases I make — respectable 

Late balances — that’s untenable.

 

Keep your credit cards away from me

Cause I will never go on spending sprees,

At the mall I am an absentee,

Black Friday’s just another Friday to me. 

 

My low credit utilization causes bankers frustration,

Don’t fall prey to fixation, spending money on sensation, 

My savings deserve ovation,

Your savings they need salvation, 

Talking straight condemnation, 

You need long-ass consultation, 

I’m the Board of Education,

Spreading wealth throughout the nation,

With some basic education,

We can end this damn tarnation.

 

Was born Maximilian, but I’m tryna rack a billion,

Was born Maximilian, but I’m tryna rack a billion,

Was born Maximilian, but I’m tryna rack a billion,

Was born Maximilian, but I’m tryna rack a billion, 

(that’s nine zeros, ya’ll).

 

Compound interest at a quarterly rate,

You ain’t heard? Shit’s fire, it’ll make your head shake, 

Go and take a lump sum, throw that bish in a bank,

Give it five or ten years and I’ll be waiting to be thanked.

 

Money market accounts, CDs, whateva,

If it’s high interest paying you making the chedda,

Interest on interest, the name of the game,

So good it feels faker than aspartame,

The principal sum stays exactly the same,

But your balance gets fat, surely you will exclaim, 

“this shit is such fire, has this been forever?” 

Yep, back when the Romans were selling their leather.

 

I hope you take this and do with what you please,

I not gonna rap here on a bent knee, 

But if your employer match 401k,

Max that shit out, that’s all I will say.

 

Here’s a song I wrote. Please disregard the Christmas lights and salt lamp. I swear, they’re not mine.

 

Screwed is a story drawing from my experiences driving Uber in New York City while studying at Miami Ad School. It taps into the complete collapse of the Yellow Cab industry and the guilt of knowing my direct contribution.  (Eight minute read.)

*Published in the 2020 New York Public Library Magazine 

Screwed

by Max Frankel