insert_your_favorite_monologue_here dB Hold the calls. (long pause) I'm here, I'm here every night, I come up here every night. This is my job, this is what I do for a living. I come up here and I do the best I can. I give you the best I can. I can't do better than this. I can't. I'm only a human being up here. I'm not God... uh...alot of you out there are not...I may not be the most popular guy in the world. That's not the point. I really don't care what you think about me. I mean, who the hell are you anyway? You..."the audience"... you call me up and you try to tell me things about myself...you don't know me. You don't know anything about me. You've never seen me. You don't know what I look like. You don't know who I am, what I want, what I like, what I don't like in this world. I'm just a voice. A voice in the wilderness ...And you, like a pack of wolves descend on me, 'cause you can't stand facing what it is you are and what you've made...Yes, the world is a terrible place! Yes, cancer and garbage disposals will get you! Yes, a war is coming. Yes, the world is shot to hell and you're all goners. Everything's screwed up and you like it that way, don't you? You're fascinated by the gory details. You're mesmerized by your own fear! You revel in floods and car accidents and unstoppable diseases....You're happiest when others are in pain! And that's where I come in, isn't it? I'm here to lead you by the hand through the dark forest of your own hatred and anger and humiliation. I'm providing a public service. You're so scared! You're like the little child under the covers. You're afraid of the bogeyman, but you can't live without him. Your fear, your own lives have become entertainment! Tomorrow night, millions of people are going to be listening to this show, and you have nothing to talk about. Marvelous technology is at our disposal and instead of reaching up for new heights, we try to see how far down we can go...how deep into the muck we can immerse ourselves! What do you want to talk about? Baseball scores? Your pet? Orgasms? You're pathetic. I despise each and every one of you. You've got nothing, absolutely nothing. No brains, no power, no future. No hope. No God. The only thing you believe in is me. What are you if you don't have me? I'm not afraid, see? I come up here every night and I make my case, I make my point. I say what I believe in. I have to, I have no choice. You frighten me. I come up her every night and I tear into you, I abuse you, I insult you...and you just keep calling. Why do you keep coming back? What's wrong with you? I don't want to hear any more, I've had enough. Stop talking. Don't call anymore. Go away. Bunch of yellow-bellied, spineless, bigoted, quivering, drunken, insomniatic, paranoid, disgusting, perverted, voyeuristic little obscene phone callers. That's what you are. Well, to hell with ya. I don't need your fear or your stupidity. You don't get it. It's wasted on you. Pearls before swine. If one person out there had any idea what I was talking about...(starts taking callers again) Fred, you're on! 010531 ... birdmad "My qualifications? Well, i'm a graduate of Julliard, i attended Harvard Business School, i survived the Black Plague and had a pretty good time of it. I've seen the Exorcist about 167 TIMES AND IT JUST KEEPS GETTIN' FUNNIER EVERY SINGLE TIME I SEE IT NOT TO MENTION THE FACT THAT YOU'RE TALKIN' TO A DEAD GUY, SO WHAT DO YOU THINK? Am i qualified?" 010701 ... silentbob ok the story as it happened as i remember it as im telling it oh god well here goes. at exactly six o clock i arrived home from work. my wife myra was upstairs getting ready for the dinner party. i grabbed a bottle of champainge from the refridgerator and headed upstairs. Rosita the spanish cook was in the kitchen with ramona her spanish sister and romero her spanish son. she was waiting for myra to tell her when to start the dinner. as i climbed the stairs i thought to myself, "i cant believe its my tenth wedding anniversary and i still love my wife so much." Myra was putting on the perfume i bought her for christmas. i purposely buy it every year beacuse it drives me crazy. I gently knocked on the door *tap tap tap* she opened it. i handed her a glass. i toast "to the most beautiful wife a man ever had for ten wonderful years." she toasts. "to the best man and the best ten years a beautiful wife ever had" we drink. we kiss. we toast again.. "to the lovliest skin on the lovliest body that hasnt aged a day in ten wonderful years." she toasts. "to the gentlest hands that have ever stroked the loveliest skin on the loveliest body that hasnt aged a day in ten wonderful years." we drink. we kiss. we toast. we drink we kiss we toast. we drink we kiss we toast. by seven o clock, the bottle is empty. my wife is sloshed. and im completely toasted. then ....i smelled the perfume. I loved her in that moment with as much passion and ardor as the day we were first newlyweds. i tell you this not out of embarassment but with a pride and a joy for a love that grows stronger as each new day passes. We lay there spent naked in each others arms complete in our happiness. its eight o clock now and outside its grown dark. we hear a gentle knock on the door (tap tap tap) Suddenly, a strange young man is standing there with a knife in his hands! Myra screams (AHHH!) I jump up and run for the gun in my drawer. i rush back in ready to save my wifes life. the strange young man says in spanish, "Yo quito se dablo enchillado por queso en quinto minute" but i dont speak spanish, and i never saw ramonas son romero before and i didnt know the knife was to cut up the salad and he was asking should they heat up the dinner now? SO i aimed my gun at him. Myra screams (ahh!) and pulls my arm back and the gun goes off and SHOOTS ME IN THE EARLOBE! Romero rushes downstairs and tells rosita and ramona "MAMMASEETA! melo qua paso el hombre que ya! el hombrea que loco que BANG BANG!" the crazy man took a shot at him. So..rosita romaona and romero leave in a huff. I'm bleeding all over myras new dress! Myra rushes down to stop rosita romona and romero otherwise we'll have no dinner! but they have already left in their alfa romeo. i look out and its dark and i think someone is stealing my beautiful old mercedes, SO I TAKE ANOTHER SHOT AT THEM!!! myra rushes down into the cellar. shes looking for th edress she wore last year for bonds for isreal, but she cant find the light, trips down the stairs and passes out in the dark. i rush downstairs looking for myra, notice the cellar door is open and afraid that strange looking kid is coming back, i lock it not knowing myra is still down there. i rush back upstairs to take some aspirin because my earlobe is killing me from the hole in it. but the blood on my fingers gets in my eyes and by mistake i take four valium instead. i can hear the first guests start to arrive and i want to tell them to look for myra but suddenly i cant talk fwum aww duh vawwium. So i start to write a note, but it looks like gibberish and im afraid they'll think its a suicide and acll the police and my friend glenn cooper was coming and itd be very bad for his campaign to get mixed up in a suicide so i tear up the note and flush it down the toilet then the guests walk in and scream "WHAT HAPPENED?? WHAT HAPPENED!?" and before i can tell them what happened i pass out on the bed. and that is the whole goddamn story as sure as my name isnt........ (looks at initials on charlies robe) Charlie Brock. i actualy had to deliver this monologe in the play Rumors last spring. it was awesome. 010702 ... pralines&cream "What are you doing here?" "I came here to pray" "Did you find what you were looking for?" "yes" "What was it?" "you" even though the person i had that conversation with was someone i wish i hadn't ... luckily it was only a dream 011211 ... pralines&cream oops, that wasn'ta monologue ... don't i feel stupid ... oh well, i'll start a favorite dialogue blather, and put my monologue there. 011211 ... raze "i'm not having a go at you. i'm just sick of these celebrities living their life out in the open all the time. why would you do that? it's like these pop stars who choose the perfect moment to go into rehab. they call their publicist before they call a taxi. then they come out and they do their second autobiography. this one's called 'love me or i'll kill myself'. oh, kill yourself, then. and the papers lap it up. they follow us around, and most people think we're important. and that makes us think we're important. if they stopped following us around and taking pictures of us, people wouldn't take to the streets going, 'oh, quick, i need a picture of cameron diaz with a pimple.' they wouldn't care. they'd go on with something else. they'd get on with their lives. you open the paper, and you see a picture of lindsay lohan getting out of a car, and the headline is, 'cover up, lindsay, we can see your knickers.' of course you can see her knickers. your photographer is lying in the road pointing his camera up her dress to see her knickers. you're literally the gutter press. and fuck you, the makers of this show as well. you can't wash your hands of this. you can't keep going, 'oh, it's exploitation, but it's what the public wants.' no. the victorian freak show never went away. now it's called 'big brother', or 'x factor', where in the preliminary rounds we wheel out the bewildered to be sniggered at by multimillionaires. and fuck you for watching this at home. shame on you. and shame on me. i'm the worst of all. 'cause i'm one of these people that goes, 'oh, i'm an entertainer. it's in my blood.' yeah, it's in my blood. 'cause a real job's too hard. i would love to have been a doctor. too hard. didn't want to put the work in. love to be a war hero. i'm too scared. so i go, 'oh, it's what i do.' and i have someone bollocked if my cappuccino's cold or if they look at me the wrong way. do you know what a friend of mine once said? they said i'll never be happy because i'll never be famous enough. and they were right. and if you're watching this, i'm so sorry. you're my best friend. you're my only friend. and you never did anything wrong. out of everything else, i'll never do that again. i'll never treat you like that again. and it's eating at me. you asked me a stupid question once, and i just ... i could have answered it, and i didn't, 'cause i was ... i'll answer it now. i'd be the penguin. 'cause i could eat the flying fish. i know what you're thinking: why doesn't the fish fly away? but they can't really fly. they just sort of glide and flap. they should be called glidey flappy fish. i'm so sorry." 240322 what's it to you? who go blather from