Announcement - A challenge to you, and myself

Announcement - A challenge to you, and myself

I will be proposing a challenge to myself, and to the people who read my blog. Whether you be a writer or not, let's do something together, shall we? For the rest of the year, I will be writing thirty short stories, which is approximately one short story every 8.5 days.

The challenge starts today and will end on New Years Eve of this year. Prizes will include:

• self-esteem. 
• An impressive library of short stories to bother some editor at a magazine with. 
• Most of all will come the discipline of doing a thing you love every day for a year!

The rules are simple:

• Stories must be at least 500 words, and free of as many grammatical errors as possible.
• Story must be a story and not just random thoughts. Ask a question, then answer the question by the end of the story. You know, plot.
• Stories must be posted at the end of the week, Sunday before midnight, or you're tardy for the party. (doesn't mean anything, just means you should be ashamed of yourself)
• Once your story is up, post it at the #ShortStoryAWeek on twitter so we can all read it!

If you are one of those rebel types, and just not into following rules, join the club. I'm not a fan either. Post anyway. Everyone is welcome in this big bus of love (which is really just a utility van without windows).

So come on people. Join me. Let's do this thing and prove to the world that success is just another word for will power! And beer. Lots of beer. Or coffee. You know. Whatever drug you need.

Join us at
https://twitter.com/search?q=%23shortstoryaweek&src=typd

Middle Aged - Drama Monologue

M I D D L E   A G E D

I've come to a place in my life where I am middle aged. When I turned thirty, and people did that thing where they like to make fun of you as if you were an old man, it rolled off my back. I was in the best shape of my life, living my dream in California. I did stunt work, I did photography professionally, and I boxed with guys much younger than myself, and came out on top nearly every time.

I recently blew out my knee boxing. That's when the realization hit me, as I laid on my side in that ring, grasping at my knee, trying to extend it. At thirty-six years old, that kind of injury ends any hope of continuing that hobby. The first in what will probably be a series of things I will have to give up on as time beats away at me like sea water worn wood. Eventually I will be nothing but deep ruts, knotted coils of flesh, brittle bones, and forgotten dreams. A pile of misery draped over a lazy boy in a room without lights, unable to sleep because it feels like something is missing.

At some point I will give up on whatever dreams I may have had for being a published writer of renown, and I will give my life up to servitude. Begging for the scraps off the president of the companies table.

I've gained weight. Heavier now than I have ever been. It's probably why my knee went out. I think about my weight daily. I think about, how even now as I write this, about all the things I need to do, but haven't done, and I forget about them the next day. If I am to die a no one, it will be because I felt like no one, and my weight will be The Sword of Damocles hovering over my head, never knowing when it will break it's tiny tether and kill me.

I had always wanted to write this. I tried many times to include so much of my life in the fiction that I've written, but it never felt right. It felt like a cop out to write about my life, and disguise it as imaginative. Like I could have plausible deniability for everything that had happened to me, every horrible decision I made, every person I hurt, every dumb thing that I did, while getting the same feeling of release when a massive weight is lifted from one's shoulders.

It isn't right. You have to take credit where credit is due.

Friends - Comedy Monologue

Here's one from the archives, back when I used to call myself Will Huxley.

F R I E N D S

Friends.  Friends is a funny word. First of all it assumes that more than two people actually like you. Which I personally don’t think is possible. I mean think about it, these are people who live vast differences apart from one another, pretending to like being around you. 

You ever notice when you say something to someone, how they might sit still and frozen for a moment, as if processing the information, and without responding, go back to whatever activity they were embroiled in. 

Let’s say you said it again louder, perhaps you were making sure they heard you. 

Let’s say you continue to assault your victim, by asking, “Do you know what I mean?” Over and over. 

What you don’t realize is this person is trying to ignore you, because you have said something so insulting, that they are considering whether or not to continue being your friend. 

It really is a crap shoot, you never know when you are going to say something that can end this friendship at any moment. Yet we continue to say friends. My friends, your friends, BFF best friends forever, far flung friends, and my favorite, friends with benefits. But we continue to use the word “friends” to describe what amount to unsteady cease fires in a middle eastern country. Shaky at best. 

I would say it's an alliance. Two people get together every once in a while to fight off boredom, that's all this shit is, a cure from sitting around your house doing nothing. Now you can go over to someone else's house and do nothing there! 

But you can't be a boring friend, no sir. You have to keep your friends entertained. Make sure to keep the good times going, have to have plenty of things going on at once. 

Maybe you can watch a movie. Maybe you can watch a movie, and listen to music. Maybe you can watch a movie, listen to some music, while you text someone on your cellphone. Maybe you can watch a movie, listen to some music, while you text a friend, while your other friend watches videos on his iphone. Let's say you watch a movie, listen to music, while you text a friend, while your other friend watches videos on his iphone, and updates his fucking facebook, while the cat licks his asshole, and then one of you shouts above the dub step music playing in the background: "Having a great time!"

God people are fucking boring...

My Fellow Anglos - Comedy Monologue

M Y   F E L L O W   A N G L O S

BY

PAUL WILLIAM FASSETT

Never been too good with the whole; public speaking, thing, but here it is. I am president. I didn't actually think this would happen, you know? One day I am sitting in the bathroom of a Chili's writing some last minute material for a gig I had at this bar on Santa Monica, and now I am here. Who thought being funny would have qualified me to lead the free world.

My fellow Americans… Who opens a speech that way? It's so weird. Of course I'm American. I mean, I couldn't be German and the President, right? That's ridiculous. They outlawed that kind of thing right?

My stomach hurts. There's just, so many fucking people out there. Like… Oh my god, hundreds of people. Could be thousands, I don't know. Was never a, count the amount of jelly beans in the jar kind of guy. I think I am going to shit myself. 

I'm not ready for this. I'm not. What the hell was I thinking? Running for President. It was supposed to be a fucking joke, people! Do we not get jokes anymore?

Fuck! What have I done? Okay, yeah, I'm definitely going to shit myself. Feels like someone gave me an ipecac enema. I'm gonna end up shooting off of the toilet like one of those water pumped rockets.

Okay, Ethan. Get it together. You can't shit your pants on the first day. What would Obama do? Shit… What would Obama do? I have no idea. I don't watch the news, that shit is depressing. No, wait… What would Geroge Bush Junior do? Stumble his way through a speech, tell a fucked up joke, and spike the microphone. Alright, yeah, that might work.

Some guy is waving to me. Should I wave back? I point to myself as if asking, you want me? He looks at me like I'm retarded. Not a good start. I take those first steps towards the lights, behind the curtain, into the view of screaming crowds of people.  Expectant, hungry people, all looking up to me to feed them. Feed them what?

You know what? Screw this whole, my fellow anglo saxons shit. I'm going out there like a boss.

I'm gonna tell a dick joke.

Less Than Human Interaction - Drama Monologue

Less Than Human Interaction

Drama Monologue

I've kind of forgotten what it was like to have friends. I communicate with people who say they are my friends, but that's it. Can you call a facebook friend a friend? If so, I got a ton of those.

I just wish it was easier you know? To get to know people, and god knows I've tried. I just get the feeling that people aren't interested in making new friends, like as if the idea of having someone else in your life who is asking for a slice of your free time is just too big a commitment. Social media becomes a sort of screening process for who is worth your time, and who is worth just one hundred and forty characters.

I swore I would never sign up for an account on one of those sites ever again, but… I go through these bouts of, I don't know, I guess it's depression. I just feel like I am so far away from everyone I know, so far removed from what I know, that all I want is to touch something real, and if I can touch it, or hear it's voice, I would at least like to pretend it's real.

I started drinking again. I said I wouldn't, I know, but it's the only thing that keeps me off the ledge anymore. I just wish I knew where to go from here. I'm on an island. I put myself here, for sure, but how do I get off?

It's like I'm waiting for someone to come swing by on a boat and pick me up. It doesn't happen that way. I know it. So you know what? That's it. I'm done feeling sorry for myself. I'm gonna get on the beach, jump in the water and start swimming for the mainland, because isolation is bad enough, but feeling sorry for yourself is even worse…

(Pause)

I wonder what's on Netflix?

Outrageous - Drama Monologue

O U T R A G E O U S

You say you have to lay people off. That’s terrible, and you look awful. You're really getting yourself worked up about it, huh?

It’s never easy to ruin someone’s life, is it?

Don’t look at me like that! You just stood here for an hour, and told me your sob story, then you stood here for another hour, and told two other managers about it. You stood here talking, and the guy you’re about to lay off is actually doing work. In the time it took you to stand here and bitch, I could have paid that guy for three hours of work. Maybe we should lay you off? Maybe we should take your pay check?

The hypocrisy is staggering. You stand here with your fake sadness. That puppy dog look. Meanwhile there is some guy working his ass off in the heat that is about to be told to gather his things, because today is his last day.

You come up to me, you tell me about your troubles. You tell me how this affects the departments. How it has put you in a terrible mood. How if we keep firing people, we can never train them right. Everything you say is about the bottom line, and in the same breath you curse the bottom line as if it has nothing to do with you.

What about them? What about their lives? What does this do to the morale of our employees to see people culled like cattle? What does it do to a family to hear their breadwinner was laid off?

But yeah, I hope you survive this terrible crisis. Now go do your fucking job.

Al Pacino's Speech From Glengarry Glen Ross - Drama Monologue

Going to post something a little different today. I couldn't find this out there in monologue form so I transcribed it from Al Pacino's awesome performance in his absolute destruction of Williamson in Glengarry Glen Ross.

You stupid fuckin cunt.

You, Williamson, I’m talking to you shit head. You just cost me six thousand dollars. Six thousand dollars and one Cadillac. That’s right. What are you going to do about it? What are you going to do about it, asshole?

You’re fucking shit. Where did you learn your trade you stupid fucking cunt? You idiot. Whoever told you that you could work with men. Ohhh I’m gonna have your job shithead.  I’m going downtown and I’m going to talk to Mitch and Murray. I’m going to Lemkin. I don’t care who’s nephew you are, who you know, who’s dick you’re sucking on, you’re going out. I swear to you, you’re going down!

Anyone in this office lives on his wits. I’ll be with you in a second.

What you are hired for is to help us. Does that seem clear to you? To help us. Not to fuck us up. To help men who are going out there to earn a living, you fairy, you company man. I’ll tell you something else, I hope you ripped the joint off because I can tell our friend here something that might help him catch you.

You want to learn the first rule, you’d know if you had ever spent a day in your life out there. You never open your mouth until you know what the shot is.

You fucking child.