yummy yummy ladies on my screen, more than McLuchan could have foreseen, smouldering my sensibilities like raw limonene being rubbed in bare, bewitched eyes in a Ludovico machine.
i’ve never ridden in the back of a limousine snorting coke off a celebrity’s caboose. unlucky me. but every day if i so choose, i can watch the car-hobby show they produced with that chick who specializes in rust repair who was only seventeen when that episode aired but now that she’s eighteen, she doesn’t care if those bikini selfies of hers’ are out there?
“Two people confront one-another about their feelings, at the wrong place, at the wrong time, in the wrong way – and possibly, to the wrong person.”
THE SCENE A party in a suburban home. Nighttime.
THE CAST Kristan,she/her, 30s, standoffish, with coloured hair. Kevin,he/him, 30s, brazen.
Graeme,30s, a smoking guest. Tommy,30s, his friend. A Man in a Suit,30s, a silent weirdo.
Karl,a drunk partygoer, adult-aged. Holly,a curious partygoer, adult-aged. A Goof,30s, an idiot.
*
As the audience enters the theatre, the CURTAIN is CLOSED and the HOUSE LIGHTS are ON. In front of the curtain at STAGE-LEFT, under a spotlight, is a patio chair and an outdoor table with an ashtray on it. On STAGE-RIGHT, on a bench, sits A MAN IN A SUIT – looking forlorn, “smoking” a cigarette, ashing on the ground. Behind the curtain, you can hear bass-heavy background music, played at a minimal volume.
Five-minutes before the start of show, GRAEME enters STAGE-LEFT. He “lights” a cigarette and stares out into the crowd like he’s looking-out from a porch. Occasionally, GRAEME will look at the MAN IN A SUIT, but the MAN IN A SUIT does not look back, nor do they share any pleasantries.
HOUSE LIGHTS FADE. TOMMY enters STAGE-LEFT, also “lighting” a cigarette.
TOMMY Hey Graeme!
GRAEME Tommy! What’s shaking?
TOMMY & GRAEME “pound” fists.
TOMMY Not a whole Hell of a lot. I thought I’d never run into someone I know here.
GRAEME Yeah, me neither. The wife dragged me. But it’s nice to see you!
TOMMY You too! Are you coming with us next weekend?
GRAEME To do what?
TOMMY The guys didn’t tell you?
GRAEME No…
TOMMY Oh. Well we’re all going hunting.
GRAEME (apprehensive) Hunting, huh?
TOMMY Yeah. Don’t take it too personal. If anyone asks just say I invited you.
GRAEME No, it’s not that. I’m just not sure how comfortable I’d be with going hunting.
TOMMY If you’re sad for the deer, it’s an annual cull.
GRAEME Yeah, there’s that. But it’s mostly just all the random shootings going on everywhere. I don’t know how cool I am going shooting for fun when kids are getting killed for no reason.
i locked a fly inside my safe to see if it could survive, and two weeks later to my surprise the fly still hadn’t died.
its incarceration wasn’t intentional, of that i assure you – i won’t pressure you with a confession of animal abusion – but it just flew in there, that dumbass diptera and, putting all semblance of a conscience aside, from the moment i saw it hovering over the dirty dish brine i cursed its damned bastard behind! with wings that fly fast as it buzzes past and irritates my fragile mind, and a dirty sucky straw-hole for a mouth that eats garbage for the supposed duration of its ironic adult life.
theory of a daskeman 