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All scenes are copy written, so don't copy me, by Herman Civils 2002. Any profit made for producing any scenes publicly must be noted, as Herman Civils deserves a portion of the profits. Do not pass this off as your own. It's not yours.
Saturday, January 19, 2002
I, ____________, promise to read these "lessons" in hopes of one day performing them with a group of small friends, so that I may learn vicariously through the characters a very important lesson.
Being Had
by Herman Civils
Claire: Friend and coworker with Abbey.
Abbey: Friend and coworker with Claire
Claire: Ooo, are those quaaludes? (points to a jar)
Abbey: (takes a puff of her cigarette) Yeah, you want one?
Claire: Can I? I mean, do you mind?
Abbey: Sure, it's fine with me. (hands her a jar of pills) I've got the rest of this jar and one in the back, so I'm good on supply.
Claire: (smiles and takes the jar) Wow, thank you. I have had (opens the jar) such a terrible week. (takes a pill out and holds it up)
Abbey: You taken these before? (takes a puff of her cigarette)
Claire: (looking at pill) No. But I've heard a lot of good things.
Abbey: Damn right.
Claire: Well, here goes (takes the pill and swallows)
Abbey: (laughs) This is going to be great.
Claire: How long before it kicks in?
Abbey: I'd give it about five minutes.
Claire: Ok, I'll just kind of lie down or something. (sits back into the couch)
Abbey: (takes a hit of her cigarette) How much money did you make this week?
Claire: About ten.
Abbey: Not bad. So you came out with what, six?
Claire: Yeah. More like six five.
Abbey: (takes a hit of her cigarette) Damn, you must of been had six or seven times a day.
Claire: Well, Tuesday, I had this corporate bunch at the Whitehorse on Lutherford.
Abbey: Really? That huge place downtown?
Claire: Yeah. I had a couple of threesomes and they paid for this fat guy to get oral. It was disgusting.
Abbey: I can relate (laughs and hits her cigarette)
Claire: Yeah so I had a rough week. Candy?
Abbey: Huh?
Claire: My money (pause) I put my money...my pocket.
Abbey: Huh?
Claire: (slowly) I saaaaiiiiiiddddddddd, I'd...I'd love doing what most people uh hate.
Abbey: Yeah, and what's that?
Claire: You're what! Your daddy!
Abbey: (Confused) I don't see what you're saying.
Claire: (slowly) I ssssssaaaaaaaaaiiiiiiiiidddddddddd I'l looooooovvvvvvveeeeeee, doing what most people hate.
Abbey: (laughs) Oh yeah? (laughs) I think those ludes are kicking in.
Claire: Ludes? What ludes? I used lube sometimes but I can get it out of my hair.
Abbey: (takes a hit off her cigarette) Really? (laughs) You're crazy.
Claire: (slowly) I would loooooooovvvvvvvvveeeeeee the oppurtunity to do what most people would haaaaaaaaaaattttttttttteeeeeeeeeeee.
Abbey: (hits her cigarette and pauses) I think I would too. Like a normal job. Secretary or something.
Claire: (laughs) I know. Me too. (long pause) What are we talking about?
I hope you signed the preceeding contract, because some of you might read this thinking, "Hey, I'll read these, but never perform them. I'm not an actor! My mother hated me! I don't want TO LIVE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" Folks, I have a suitemate who is minoring in acting, which just gives him liscence to think his overacting is brilliant. Not so. We are all actors, everyday. All of us put on different characters for maybe our friends, or our relatives, or our parents everyday. Do not let the lack of title keep you from becoming someone else in hopes of learning an important lesson. Don't be scared no one will judge you. Just be yourself, err, yourself as someone else. Now, go, master thesbian. Act!
The hardest thing to keep from doing when one has total control over a blog is to put out a thousand, one sentace paragraphs featuring a bizzare, or witty, or pornographic link. The creator of this bogging device probably never thought that such a wonderful invention would ever be degraded to millions of great looking links to other pages. In an effort to keep from falling into the trap, I will refrain from ever doing this again, unless it is totally nessesary. The reason I write this is because we are all frequent internet users now and there are things on the internet that need to be taken care of before we go back to magizines. That's right, pop up ad's. We hate them, and they are the downfall of society. Join me and dozens of others in a fight against pop up adds by going here and following the directions. It is the closest thing to an internet enema that I could find. Thank you for your patience.
This is funny for you Bush fans (the President, not everyone's favorite, Gavin Rosdale's band)
A new look has come so bask in it's glory. I think this one looks a bit better and is a lot more legible. If you happen to be bored and feel like losing your life to something other than a boyfriend/girlfriend or drugs, go here and play Graffiti. You'll lose your soul. I know, I'm losing mine.
Friday, January 18, 2002
This is yet another lesson, and I can't help but feel like St. Terrence of Tallahassee. He wrote dramas, and tradgedies, but was most noted for his comedies of Shackleford and Tom. Though The Catholic Church frowned on Shackleford and Tom's zany and irreverent drug use, and explicit sexual imagery, St. Terrence stood by his work, saying that these comedies were actually teaching lessons of God to whoever saw them performed. That's what I feel like. Anyway, let's learn:
Insided
by Herman Civils
Patrick - Lover to Natasha.
Natasha - Part time lover to Patrick.
Patrick and Natasha are lying face up side by side, naked, covered by a large blanket.
Patrick: You never came did you?
Natasha: Patrick, can we just not talk about it right now?
Patrick: Why not? Isn't now when we're supposed to talk about it?
Natasha: No, it's not. I mean, you were inside me just a minute ago, so excuse me if I don't want to dwell on it immediately afterword.
Patrick: (sighs) (sarcastic) So that's a big no.
Natasha: (frustrated) Yes, Patrick, it's a no. I didn't come. Not even once. You suck.
Patrick: (hurt) Well that's not what I wanted to hear.
Natasha: I don't want to talk about it. You're being completely rediculous, as usual.
Patrick: I wonder what that's like. For a girl, I mean.
Natasha: Huh?
Patrick: Having someone in you. God, that's got to be weird.
Natasha: (pause) It can't be explained really. I guess you could say it's sort of like someone rubbing you from the outside, inside in a repetitive manner.
Patrick: (laughs) God, that is weird.
Natasha: Eventually you get over it.
Patrick: (pause) Natasha.
Natasha: What?
Patrick: You wanna' go swing on the swingset?
Natasha: I guess so. There's a few minutes left of reccess.
Patrick: (stands up and holds out his hand to her) Come on. Let's go. Shit, don't forget that wrapper.
END SCENE
Make a good effort to act these out. It's not until it truly comes to life that you see what the author and the actors are trying to convey. Now go and make the world a better place to breed your many many soccer children. Email
A Friend. A Butane Lighter. Actually, No, Just A Friend by Herman Civils
Lefty - Has a genitalia condition. Best friends with Twitch.
Twitch - Best friends with Lefty. Employed at Cinnabuns at the SquareSouthOak Mall.
Lefty: Man man man man man!
Twitch: What? What is it?
Lefty: I just did (big smile) three lines (pause) IN A ROW!
Twitch: Yeah right (laughs)
Lefty: No, I'm serious. I just three lines did. I did `um, I promise. I wouldn't lie.
Twitch: Ok, whatever you say. Where's my butane lighter? I wanna' cook this and smoke it before I have to go.
Lefty: Just snort it. Just. Watch out man, it's hot. Is it hot in here to you?
Twitch: Wow. Maybe you weren't lying.
Lefty: I wasn't. I know where your lighter is. I know you don't. I know you don't you don't you don't.
Twitch: Where is it then?
Lefty: In the bathroom in the drawer. In the drawer. There are mirrors in the drawer.
Twitch: Ok, calm down. Thank you (walks to the bathroom)
Lefty: I'm just gonna' jump out the window. I will. I'm going to (walks to the window)
Twitch: (stops) No, come on man. You don't want to do that.
Lefty: (stops and turns around) Ok. Where are we going?
Twitch: Are we best friends?
Lefty: Huh?
Twitch: Are we best friends?
Lefty: My dick goes to the left.
Twitch: I know Lefty, that's how you got the name. (pause) Come on, answer the question.
Lefty: I used to take medicine for it, but I gave up. The ladies like the variety. It's a wonder of nature. Plus I can just stand to the left and angle it in if I have to.
Twitch: We're best friends right?
Lefty: Yeah why why why why?
Twitch: (laughs) No reason. I was just making sure I knew where we stood.
Lefty: You're not being funny are you.
Twitch: No (laughs) No, Lefty, I'm not being funny. (pause) Come on, let's go cook this snow and get really high. How about it?
Lefty: You can have the first hit, and I'll have the second.
Twitch: Atta' boy Lefty. Friend.
END SCENE
Did we not learn anything people? I think so. I know I did. Now, any critiques, love notes, autopsy photos of Ted Kennedy's future and imminent death can be sent to him: Here or Here
Female bloggers, reply quickly. Just kidding.
I've set up a few pictures, mostly for self gratification. However, I was inspired by collectors of porn to post this limited edition set. I think they are here.
Just expirimenting with spelling words wrkong. It feels...different.
As part of my life long goal to sleep with two or more "bloggers" (females need only apply) I feel I must be more persistent in my own blogging. Thus today, I hope to make up for two missed days, and even today's. Three lessons in one day? Read at your own risk. You might learn so much you'll explode.
Tell Me: A Word Game
by Herman Civils
Thacker: Sixth year pyschology undergraduate.
Eugene: Friend to Thacker. Local baker.
Thacker: Just tell me the very first thing that comes to your head when I say a word, ok? It's simple.
Eugene: Ok. Shoot.
Thacker: Mayonaise.
Eugene: Malarky.
Thacker: Window.
Eugene: Alabaster.
Thacker: Crimson.
Eugene: Denzel.
Thacker: Stucco.
Eugene: Tragedy.
Thacker: Shale.
Eugene: Belks.
Thacker: Genitalia.
Eugene: Do not lick.
Thacker: Please, only one word.
Eugene: Sorry. It was the first thing that came to my mind.
Tacker: Ok, well, whatever. Ready?
Eugene: Gardener.
Thacker: No, I was asking you a question.
Eugene: Oh.
Thacker: Telescope.
Eugene: Sorry, I have one already. Don't you remember? You were with me when I bought it.
Thacker: No, no, I mean, yes, I remember, but I was telling you a word and you were supposed to respond. I wasn't asking a question.
Eugene: Oh, ok. Why didn't you say so.
Thacker: (serious) You're crazy.
END SCENE
Thursday, January 17, 2002
Today I FINALLY got my bogger code. It is:
B1 d++ t++ k-- s- u-- f++ i- o+ x e l c
To decode this mystery, visit the Blogger Decoder .
I have also redirected my life's goal to sleeping with two or more bloggers.
Tuesday, January 15, 2002
Today is a new day, and thus, a new lesson we should all learn. Pay careful attention folks, this is your life. Today's lesson is:
Made-For-TV-Lesbian by Herman Civils
Debra Horowitz - Confused college student, and roomate to Ling.
Ling Tau - Roomate to Debra.
Debra: (looks up from a magazine) Holy chirst Ling! What are you doing?
Ling: (wraps medical tuping around her upper arm and holds syringe in one hand) This is heroin.
Debra: Jesus! You're doing heroin? Right here? Right now? Are you crazy?
Ling: Hold on, this part kind of hurts for a second (injects the heroin) Ohhhhhhhh yeahhhhhhh...
Debra: I can't believe you're a drug addict. My roomate is a fucking drug addict.
Ling: I'm not an addict. Yet. This is only my sixth time Debra. You're alw- (falls to the floor and starts laughing)
Debra: Christ Ling! Get up! Get up!
Ling: You sing the sailor song and I'll souppy soup cake (laughs)
Debra: Are you ok?
Ling: You verry... (mumbles incoherent)
Debra: Huh? You're mumbling.
Ling: I love you (gets up awkwardly)
Debra: What? I'm sorry Ling, I'm just not like -
Ling: (interrupts Debra with a kiss on her lips)
Debra: You. (pause) You know, you have (pause) you had no right to do that.
Ling: (kiss somewhat passionately)
Debra: No (stands up) No, no, no, no, no. I will not do this. I'm 18 years old. I have no time to be (pauses) gay.
Ling: (whispers) I love you.
Debra: (frantic) What?
Ling: (smiles and approaches Debra) Love first. Think later.
Debra: (laughs) What? Why are you doing this, wait, maybe it has something to do with the HEROIN you just took. (sighs) Look Ling, I won't say I didn't sort of enjoy that. It's been a long time and all that crap, but I don't want to turn into a made for TV movie lesbian. I don't want that. I'm not a lesbian, so it should be easy for me. (sighs) And, you're high.
Ling: On love. (laughs) I'm gonna wet myself.
Debra: (sits down) Yeah you do that (cries)
Ling: Don't cry Debbie cake. (laughs and falls to the floor) I'm really gonna' wet myself.
Debra: (to herself) Go fuck yourself (puts her head in her hands, crying)
Ling: Debra! GOD THIS FEELS (orgasmic sound) gooooood.
END SCENE
And that's today's lesson. Now, ask yourself and your audience how they feel about themselves. Are they happy with who they are? It seems Debra had some internal conflict with her sexuality and who she was, whereas Ling was able to be whatever she wanted to, as she was high on heroin. Did we learn something? Were the proper emotions conveyed through your acting? Ask yourself these questions and evaluate yourself. Do this and you will learn a lesson that only you can learn for yourself.
Monday, January 14, 2002
The point of this blog is to teach people through screenwriting. Each lesson consists of a short scene that you or a small group of friends may perform for the amusment and education of others. Today's lesson:
Chards of Love by Herman Civils
Brandy Thorland - girlfriend to EDGAR
Edgar Winters - boyfriend to BRANDY
Brandy: (looks face to face with Edgar) You want to get married?
Edgar: Yes, very much so. (confused) What? Is there something wrong?
Brandy: But yesterday you said...
Edgar: (interrupts) Yesterday? What about it?
Brandy: (appalled) You said you wanted to kill us both with your dad's shotgun.
Edgar: So?
Brandy: (nervous) So, forgive me if I don't think your intentions are very honorable.
Edgar: I'm shocked Brandy. (takes her hands) My intentions were nothing but honorable.
Brandy: (scared) Killing me and commiting suicide is far from honorable Edgar.
Edgar: On the contrary. Think about it; we would both be together, forever, in heaven, and perfect paradise, where angels laugh and prune hedges and little puppies lick their undercarriges all day! Think about that Brandy. Us! Together forever!
Brandy: (crying) You want to kill me?
Edgar: (laughs) No, sugar bear, I don't want to kill you today. Today, I want to marry you. Marrige, not death.
Brandy: (crying) You want to kill me!
Edgar: (chuckles) Brandy, you're taking this way too serious. I wanted us to be together forever. But since you feel that death is a little drastic, then I'm opting for marrige. At least when we are married we can discuss killing ourselves together. Don't you want that honey?
Brandy: (sobbing) I thought I did until you said you wanted to (yells) KILL ME! AHHHHHH!
Edgar: (takes her in his arms) Come here sweety
Brandy: (pushes him away) I'm sorry Edgar, but I have to go. (turns) I thought you loved me (runs away crying) EXIT BRANDY
Edgar: (pause and starts crying) But I do love you...
END SCENE
Please notify the author (Herman Civils, care of BryanCiv@aol.com of any money made with the production of this scene. Please subsitute sexes for different parts and expiriment with emotions. Ignore stage directions if nessecary. Good luck. I hope your lessn has been learned.
I have spent a good two hours setting up a web page and this blog. I know that Meg is probably the only one who will visit, and even then I'm still not sure. But, if someone comes here (probably by accident), and if they happen to see a post like "And when I came on your stomach, I was embarassed. Your hand is a better place for that stuff," then just ignore it and return to your menatanous world of meaninglessness.
This is new for me, but I hope I get some response to it. I know everyone has one of these so I guess this won't be much different. Which is fine, f*** you!
