Description: Collection of monologues for males and females.
Boris - 30, Male, Eastern-European
Before you start the process of becoming angry-eastern European man, you may need to undergo this little thing called sexual reassignment surgery. Women cannot be angry eastern-European man because of big lack of little somehin’ somehin’(winks twice lasciviously) If you get my drift??
Or you may choose to be a whore if you choose to be a woman – Svetlana or Natalya - but I wouldn’t recommend that because we hate women.
So after you’ve become a man, if you weren’t one already, you need to start working on your accent. Slavic language is very guttural so you need to make sounds like ‘Guh, Sluh, Mah all the time…Borrrrrris You know…Try it…Let me hear it…Say Guh! Say it dude!…Now say it like you mean it and like you are saying it to somebody who butchered your mother in front of you. Go on! Gaaaaaaahh! Kurva picka do svidanja Boris Gulash!!
Have in mind that when ever you speak, you are always speaking to somebody who massacred your family. Good.
Now we need to fix the brows. As of today, you are not allowed to trim your brows. They need to look as bushy as possible – unibrow would be an ideal actually… and they need to be agonizingly paralyzed …Like this (he shows it). Isn’t this scary?? I know! If you walked like this I guarantee you, every person that sees you will say, yup, that’s definitely one angry eastern-European man. Try now a combination: brow, massacre and guttural sounds. Repeat after me: Kurva Votka, Smirnof Stalin Vlad..With more anger! Kurva, Votka, Smirnof, Lenin!!
Comrades, my time is almost out, but with these few simple and efficient tools you can compete for any Eastern-European terrorist or an angry vampire role as successfully as any professional out there. Mark my words. Stanislavski was just too damn partial; it’s all about the brows and massacre my friends. Mark my words! Goodbye! Do svidanja! Thank you.
Diana - Female, twenty something
And now I present to you. . .The Female Orgasm, as told by Ms. Diana Rogers of Macon Missouri.
There are two kinds, as I'm sure you know. Vaginal and clitoral. I'm pretty much skipping over vaginal, because not all chicks are able to get them, and because I don't care nearly as much for them. Sure, under the right circumstances, they can feel good. But cocks aren't always reliable to get the job done, so they're not nearly as good, for me, as clitoral ones.
So rub rub rub, or vibrate incessantly, then this heat starts to build basically right between my legs. That's when I get wet. The feeling spreads outwards. My guess would be this is what it's like when dudes get hard, but gradually. Then it kinda swirls in ever-expanding circles, like those spirals that are meant to make you cross-eyed. And as it moves it's like I can feel every single cell in its path coming alive. Um, like, glowing, or pulsing. I can literally feel everything my body's made up of taking on these super human qualities of awesomeness. So out and out it spreads, only taking seconds probably, but feeling like forever, all the way out to my fingers and toes. My scalp tingles. All of the extremities. In fact, it's kinda like it's bursting out of the entire coverage of my skin. And right when the tingles hit the very edge of me, simultaneously there's this eruption like feeling in my inside girl parts, everything contracts. It stops being about the feeling in my clit and becomes something to do with everything that physically distinguishes the female from the male. So the surface of my skin is completely in tune with whatever's left of my plumbing.
For a whole lot, maybe even most, chicks that's where it stops. But for some amazing reason, luck?, I can make it happen over and over again. So a lot of my orgasms end up lasting for a full 30 seconds. I'm talking that most intense feeling in the world for 30 seconds. It doesn't happen every time, but when it does is when I do that female ejaculation thing. I mean, I'm not ejaculating or anything for 30 seconds. Just at the very end. Count to 30 dude. That's a really fucking long time to cum. And that's the number one reason I'm tickled pink to be a girl.
Kay - Female, 28 years old
I had to kill a baby bird yesterday.
I was planting the Roma tomato plant Syd got me for godmother's day. I had a little garden shovel thing, and I was digging leaves out of the plant spot right under the fucking birdhouse. I scooped it up with a load of leaves. I don't know if it was already injured or if my shovel things did it, but it had a big bloody spot on it's bird shoulder. It's fucking beak was opening like crazy and it was making these terrified chirp sounds.
Syd was with me. She saw it. I told her to go inside. She kept asking why, and I told her I had to help the bird die, cuz it was hurting really bad, and it would never get to fly. She went in screaming because she really wanted to watch me kill the bird. The child's fucked in the head.
At first I was going to try to break its neck with the shovel things. Then I decided that would be too difficult, and take too long. So I got scissors and cut it's tiny head off. Bright red blood shot out of its neck hole, and both parts of it kept twitching like a chicken. I threw the parts into the wild part of the hedges, then I threw the scissors away.
I'm fucking scarred. I can't close my eyes without seeing the blood shoot out of the neck hole, and seeing its beak open and close on its detached head. From my bedroom I can hear its brothers and sisters chirping away, screaming at me for killing the baby.
Micah - 22, Eastern-European
Dear Nina,
I haven’t seen you for years now and I’m sure you are not a cute little girl anymore. I don’t remember your face clearly and the only thing I do remember about you is that your hair was always tied on the top of your head looking like a little palm tree. And I remember I used to tease you and call it a nest and you would get mad at me and say you will never talk to me again. And then I would go to your house after few minutes or you would come to mine and we would be the best friends again.
I miss you. You are the link to my childhood and when I think of my childhood you are one of the first people who pop up in my mind.
Nina, I watched your house from my little bedroom window for days, months and then years hoping you would come back one day and that we could continue playing again. And a beautiful white façade of your house slowly grew yellow, and the birds began building their nests in the shutters of your closed windows, and the rain washed out the red color out of your red roof.
And I grew and went through my puberty without any friends. Your house was empty and quiet but when ever I passed by it and looked at your neglected garden I could still see us dancing under the open window as the lambada was playing inside. You didn’t know how to dance, but you tried to teach me any way. Oh, you did teach me how to move my hips! I remember that one!
I feel you were stolen from me and I never got over you. I don’t think I ever will. You are my childhood and in the war there is no room for children. So I grew old in the period of a year, but I never really grew up. Not inside. You are still in there, and I am still the child who danced with you and laughed running down the street and just laughing for hours.
And I still miss you, but I will never see you. Even if I do, it will not be you no longer, and I will not be laughing with you anymore. So I will just keep you the way you were and I will not cry anymore.
Kay - Female, 26
(Kicking the floor with her foot) Keep it down! Fucking wacked out bitch. Shut up (She stomps the floor). Yup, the smelly cousins have descended upon us, sorry for the mess babe. Sit here (She is cleaning up the room during the following section). They burst in last night, Britney screaming and crying, running for the bathroom. That chick is the biggest drama queen since Liza Minelli. Everything is life and death. She just had the shits from eating a bad McDonald's salad, but you would have thought she'd just seen her kittens eaten by vampires. I looked at Val, she looked at me, and we both rolled our eyes and came upstairs to smoke and leave her to her craziness. She sulked the rest of the night because she didn't get the reaction she wanted from us. I refused to even acknowledge her psychosis.
Come baby, I fantasized about you all day (She lies on the bed and spreads her legs)..I don't hate her! I just want her out of this house, I want them all gone. They reek (She stomps the floor again).You know what, I do fucking hate her. I can't stand her.
But here's why. I can't look at the girl without thinking about this. I'm warning you right now that what I am about to tell you is utterly disturbing... No, I can't, no! Forget it and just come to bed. Please? You don't want to hear it, trust me. Baby? Fine, so the first night I got home I was exhausted, and slept. The second night I was back my libido finally kicked back in. It was around midnight and started thinking fondly of all the wonderful vibrators I left here. So I watched a little porn, got a little wet, and moved to the bed. I reached down to pick a vibe and came back up with my favorite one, the one that plugs in so you don't have to use batteries, and it was covered in period blood and someone else's vag. (A big pause)
I told you you don't want to know. Water? (she brings him a glass of water) Here. I still can't fully wrap my head around it either. They were all fucked up, every single one of them. First of all, it's pretty fucking gross to use someone else's sex toys. I'd never do it. I even get uncomfortable when I buy one and the dude at the store opens it up to make sure it works before you leave the store. But I can kinda understand the lure of all that magic beside my bed on a girl who's probably never had an orgasm before. But for Christ's sake. . .CLEAN UP YOUR FUCKING MESS!!!!!!! If only so as not to get caught!!! It's so fucking sick, and it obviously did my head in.
There's now a note on my now sterilized with alcohol and fire vibrators that I think is pretty appropriate. It reads: For my vagina only. Don't touch my fucking toys, and we'll never, EVER talk about this in front of your Aunt Carroll! (She grabs a chair and bangs it against the floor) That oughta scare them.
Before you start the process of becoming angry-eastern European man, you may need to undergo this little thing called sexual reassignment surgery. Women cannot be angry eastern-European man because of big lack of little somehin’ somehin’(winks twice lasciviously) If you get my drift??
Or you may choose to be a whore if you choose to be a woman – Svetlana or Natalya - but I wouldn’t recommend that because we hate women.
So after you’ve become a man, if you weren’t one already, you need to start working on your accent. Slavic language is very guttural so you need to make sounds like ‘Guh, Sluh, Mah all the time…Borrrrrris You know…Try it…Let me hear it…Say Guh! Say it dude!…Now say it like you mean it and like you are saying it to somebody who butchered your mother in front of you. Go on! Gaaaaaaahh! Kurva picka do svidanja Boris Gulash!!
Have in mind that when ever you speak, you are always speaking to somebody who massacred your family. Good.
Now we need to fix the brows. As of today, you are not allowed to trim your brows. They need to look as bushy as possible – unibrow would be an ideal actually… and they need to be agonizingly paralyzed …Like this (he shows it). Isn’t this scary?? I know! If you walked like this I guarantee you, every person that sees you will say, yup, that’s definitely one angry eastern-European man. Try now a combination: brow, massacre and guttural sounds. Repeat after me: Kurva Votka, Smirnof Stalin Vlad..With more anger! Kurva, Votka, Smirnof, Lenin!!
Comrades, my time is almost out, but with these few simple and efficient tools you can compete for any Eastern-European terrorist or an angry vampire role as successfully as any professional out there. Mark my words. Stanislavski was just too damn partial; it’s all about the brows and massacre my friends. Mark my words! Goodbye! Do svidanja! Thank you.
Diana - Female, twenty something
And now I present to you. . .The Female Orgasm, as told by Ms. Diana Rogers of Macon Missouri.
There are two kinds, as I'm sure you know. Vaginal and clitoral. I'm pretty much skipping over vaginal, because not all chicks are able to get them, and because I don't care nearly as much for them. Sure, under the right circumstances, they can feel good. But cocks aren't always reliable to get the job done, so they're not nearly as good, for me, as clitoral ones.
So rub rub rub, or vibrate incessantly, then this heat starts to build basically right between my legs. That's when I get wet. The feeling spreads outwards. My guess would be this is what it's like when dudes get hard, but gradually. Then it kinda swirls in ever-expanding circles, like those spirals that are meant to make you cross-eyed. And as it moves it's like I can feel every single cell in its path coming alive. Um, like, glowing, or pulsing. I can literally feel everything my body's made up of taking on these super human qualities of awesomeness. So out and out it spreads, only taking seconds probably, but feeling like forever, all the way out to my fingers and toes. My scalp tingles. All of the extremities. In fact, it's kinda like it's bursting out of the entire coverage of my skin. And right when the tingles hit the very edge of me, simultaneously there's this eruption like feeling in my inside girl parts, everything contracts. It stops being about the feeling in my clit and becomes something to do with everything that physically distinguishes the female from the male. So the surface of my skin is completely in tune with whatever's left of my plumbing.
For a whole lot, maybe even most, chicks that's where it stops. But for some amazing reason, luck?, I can make it happen over and over again. So a lot of my orgasms end up lasting for a full 30 seconds. I'm talking that most intense feeling in the world for 30 seconds. It doesn't happen every time, but when it does is when I do that female ejaculation thing. I mean, I'm not ejaculating or anything for 30 seconds. Just at the very end. Count to 30 dude. That's a really fucking long time to cum. And that's the number one reason I'm tickled pink to be a girl.
Kay - Female, 28 years old
I had to kill a baby bird yesterday.
I was planting the Roma tomato plant Syd got me for godmother's day. I had a little garden shovel thing, and I was digging leaves out of the plant spot right under the fucking birdhouse. I scooped it up with a load of leaves. I don't know if it was already injured or if my shovel things did it, but it had a big bloody spot on it's bird shoulder. It's fucking beak was opening like crazy and it was making these terrified chirp sounds.
Syd was with me. She saw it. I told her to go inside. She kept asking why, and I told her I had to help the bird die, cuz it was hurting really bad, and it would never get to fly. She went in screaming because she really wanted to watch me kill the bird. The child's fucked in the head.
At first I was going to try to break its neck with the shovel things. Then I decided that would be too difficult, and take too long. So I got scissors and cut it's tiny head off. Bright red blood shot out of its neck hole, and both parts of it kept twitching like a chicken. I threw the parts into the wild part of the hedges, then I threw the scissors away.
I'm fucking scarred. I can't close my eyes without seeing the blood shoot out of the neck hole, and seeing its beak open and close on its detached head. From my bedroom I can hear its brothers and sisters chirping away, screaming at me for killing the baby.
Micah - 22, Eastern-European
Dear Nina,
I haven’t seen you for years now and I’m sure you are not a cute little girl anymore. I don’t remember your face clearly and the only thing I do remember about you is that your hair was always tied on the top of your head looking like a little palm tree. And I remember I used to tease you and call it a nest and you would get mad at me and say you will never talk to me again. And then I would go to your house after few minutes or you would come to mine and we would be the best friends again.
I miss you. You are the link to my childhood and when I think of my childhood you are one of the first people who pop up in my mind.
Nina, I watched your house from my little bedroom window for days, months and then years hoping you would come back one day and that we could continue playing again. And a beautiful white façade of your house slowly grew yellow, and the birds began building their nests in the shutters of your closed windows, and the rain washed out the red color out of your red roof.
And I grew and went through my puberty without any friends. Your house was empty and quiet but when ever I passed by it and looked at your neglected garden I could still see us dancing under the open window as the lambada was playing inside. You didn’t know how to dance, but you tried to teach me any way. Oh, you did teach me how to move my hips! I remember that one!
I feel you were stolen from me and I never got over you. I don’t think I ever will. You are my childhood and in the war there is no room for children. So I grew old in the period of a year, but I never really grew up. Not inside. You are still in there, and I am still the child who danced with you and laughed running down the street and just laughing for hours.
And I still miss you, but I will never see you. Even if I do, it will not be you no longer, and I will not be laughing with you anymore. So I will just keep you the way you were and I will not cry anymore.
Kay - Female, 26
(Kicking the floor with her foot) Keep it down! Fucking wacked out bitch. Shut up (She stomps the floor). Yup, the smelly cousins have descended upon us, sorry for the mess babe. Sit here (She is cleaning up the room during the following section). They burst in last night, Britney screaming and crying, running for the bathroom. That chick is the biggest drama queen since Liza Minelli. Everything is life and death. She just had the shits from eating a bad McDonald's salad, but you would have thought she'd just seen her kittens eaten by vampires. I looked at Val, she looked at me, and we both rolled our eyes and came upstairs to smoke and leave her to her craziness. She sulked the rest of the night because she didn't get the reaction she wanted from us. I refused to even acknowledge her psychosis.
Come baby, I fantasized about you all day (She lies on the bed and spreads her legs)..I don't hate her! I just want her out of this house, I want them all gone. They reek (She stomps the floor again).You know what, I do fucking hate her. I can't stand her.
But here's why. I can't look at the girl without thinking about this. I'm warning you right now that what I am about to tell you is utterly disturbing... No, I can't, no! Forget it and just come to bed. Please? You don't want to hear it, trust me. Baby? Fine, so the first night I got home I was exhausted, and slept. The second night I was back my libido finally kicked back in. It was around midnight and started thinking fondly of all the wonderful vibrators I left here. So I watched a little porn, got a little wet, and moved to the bed. I reached down to pick a vibe and came back up with my favorite one, the one that plugs in so you don't have to use batteries, and it was covered in period blood and someone else's vag. (A big pause)
I told you you don't want to know. Water? (she brings him a glass of water) Here. I still can't fully wrap my head around it either. They were all fucked up, every single one of them. First of all, it's pretty fucking gross to use someone else's sex toys. I'd never do it. I even get uncomfortable when I buy one and the dude at the store opens it up to make sure it works before you leave the store. But I can kinda understand the lure of all that magic beside my bed on a girl who's probably never had an orgasm before. But for Christ's sake. . .CLEAN UP YOUR FUCKING MESS!!!!!!! If only so as not to get caught!!! It's so fucking sick, and it obviously did my head in.
There's now a note on my now sterilized with alcohol and fire vibrators that I think is pretty appropriate. It reads: For my vagina only. Don't touch my fucking toys, and we'll never, EVER talk about this in front of your Aunt Carroll! (She grabs a chair and bangs it against the floor) That oughta scare them.
