Thursday, October 23, 2003

 

Heard On Your Evening Commute

(We are in a radio studio, but the set only suggests it. Maybe a microphone on the table, maybe a frame to suggest the location of the booth. JOANNE DUNN, the host of this radio call-in show, sits at the microphone. She’s in her late fifties, wearing a low-collared shirt and leather pants. She speaks into the microphone as music, Stevie Nicks’s “Edge of Seventeen,” fades out.)

JOANNE
This is Lust for Power, I’m Joanne Dunn, back...Politics and Sex...Sex and Politics...what God hath joined together, let no man put asunder. First of all, Jacques Chirac, did you see that picture of him and Laura Bush, oh my God...I don’t know which of them I feel more sorry for. Getting your hand kissed by Chirac, so gross. I don’t buy that crap-a-dap about the French all being the caviar of lovemaking. He looks more like escargot, you know, one of those slow and steady ones, with a slimy residue. One of those that whispers in your ear as he’s inserting, “Is this what you like?” and no matter what your reply is, he goes on with his slow and steady. False concern, that’s what he’s all about. But Laura Bush, Laura, Laura, for crying out loud, you look like a school marm there, with that clenched mouth, that tightened chin. You’re representing America, don’t act like you’ve had your vaginal lips duct taped together for the last forty years. You’re supposed to at least pretend to be screwing the most powerful man in the world, and that means you gotta give us some attitude. If I were her, I would’ve slapped Chirac on the ass. Just once, but hard. WHACK! What’s he gonna do?

I finally had a chance to look over the presidential candidates the Dummy-crats are fielding. Who gets the booby prize? It’s a tie! Kucinich and Gephardt. Kucinich is -- sorry to all of my li-buh-ral friends out there -- he’s an grimy little spud. Definitely doesn’t clean his fingernails. And keep those dirty fingernails away from my panties, Mr. Kucinich. He’d be the Johnny Appleseed of yeast infections, ladies. As for Dick Gep...the answer’s still no, Dick! We keep telling you, “No, no thank you,” but you keep asking, again and again. You’ve got the desperation of a virgin that’s a virgin for good reason. “No thank you.” Sometimes no means yes, but not in your case! [laughs]

MORE...

The Village Voice, October 22-28: Day of the Spoiler
Quad City Times, October 22, 2003: Candidate Dean visits all Iowa counties
The Telegraph, September 30, 2003 : Kiss and make up: Jacques Chirac turns on the charm for Laura Bush

posted by Dan 5:00 PM
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Wednesday, October 22, 2003

 

The Night of Phases

[This piece first appeared in May, but I did an extensive rewrite. It also seems appropriate in light of this.]

(MATT and MARK, two guys in suits, stand on the stage at a high school assembly. They talk directly to the audience, as if it is the student body.)

MATT
I just want to say, first off, thanks Principal McMillan for inviting us to speak today, glad to be back at Roosevelt.

MARK
Go Rough Riders.

MATT
My name’s Matt, this is my friend Mark. We’ve been friends since we attended, back in the eighties.

MARK
The big-hair years, heh.

MATT
And we’re not -- you know -- real motivational speakers. We’re a couple of regular dudes. Today, we want to talk to you about making good choices in life.

MARK
But we’re not going to like pontificate you to death.

MATT
No we're going to explain it by telling you about something that neither of us are proud of. (to MARK:) Why don’t you get us started?

MARK
Okay, summer afternoon, we were sixteen, didn’t want to go to a coffee shop, or shoot pool at P.S.U....we got into Matt’s Scirocco and drove, nowhere in mind, we just felt unchallenged.

MATT
So where do the young and unchallenged go? Why, the Fred Meyer, of course!

MARK
Yes, your one-stop shopping center.

MATT
Now we weren’t there to buy beer.

MARK
We didn’t have fake IDs.

MATT
We didn’t drink beer.

MARK
Right, right, no beer. No weed or ephedrine either.

MORE...

posted by Dan 2:05 PM
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