Archive for January, 2005

The Marcus and Molly dating solution (scene 1)

Tuesday, January 25th, 2005

Molly: Hi, I’m Molly Slozhwowzki, please could you now welcome onto the stage; he’s marvellous, he’s magnificent, he’s YOUR messiah – Marcus Pimbleton.

::Molly gestures next to her with both hands; Marcus rushes on stage and stands directly in front of Molly, obscuring her (flies undone?)::

Marcus: Yes, yes. That’s right. Tonight, I, Marcus Pimbleton and her, will change YOUR lives…

Together: …for the better!

Molly: But Marcus, isn’t being young, free and single just a dream?

Marcus: You’re right to say that Molly…

::Molly gives a fake smile::

Marcus: …but wrong to think it.

::Molly swaps the fake smile for an equally fake expression of puzzled expectancy directed towards Marcus, as if to say, “Really, how so Marcus? Please tell us?”::

Marcus: I don’t want to give out the impression that being single is a crime; it’s a disease. And just what kind of sick ‘dream’ is played out over seventeen years, nine months and four days on a damp, salty mattress with nothing for sustenance but the drip-feed of sham saccharin rejections? What kind of ‘dream’ takes place, not on a bed of roses… but on a bed of noses? Turned-up noses? That’s not a dream. We’re all in a coma…

::Molly gives a concerned glance towards Marcus, like she’s thinking “Please God, don’t let him crack again like he did in Ropley Community Centre.”::

Molly: Now, we’re not doctors, but by using a combination of our drama degree and the magic ‘if’ you can simply let us do the thinking for you.

Marcus: You sure can. Molly?

::Molly tries to come across as thinking up an example that’s obviously scripted::

Molly: Um, ok. What ‘if’ I was really ugly and had no self-confidence?

::As she’s saying the above, Molly gestures towards a specific member of the audience as if she’s referring directly to them::

Molly: How would I ever get a date then Marcus?

Marcus: Well, ‘if’ you are that ugly, use the Internet to trick your prey into thinking you don’t have a face like a cracked egg. It’s a foot in the door.

Molly: But what ‘if’ I was I was hideously over weight? Unable to even get through a door, let alone leave the house and meet people?

Marcus: Hmmm, that’s a good one Molly. Well, next time you order a take-away, why not invite the person in, make them a cup of tea, and then rape them.

Molly: Yes, the key to dating is to assert yourself. If you’re too shy to ask their name, go through their wallet. And if there’s any loose change there, take it, you deserve it.

Marcus: You certainly do. Now, if you follow our simple 98-step guide to dating, take our patented dating supplements and follow our 28-hour daily workout, we guarantee you success in love. Boy Molly, I bet you wish all diseases were this easy to cure.

::Marcus lets out a fake laugh and Molly looks genuinely upset::

Marcus: Over the past few weeks, we’ve been on tour around the United Kingdom and already, we’ve cured the city of Leeds and a small village called Ropley near Winchester. So just sit back and let our top tips wash over you.

Molly: Top tip number 1: If you must dribble on a first date, it’s only polite to take a cup to catch the dribble in.

Marcus: Top tip number 2: If you sense your date is feeling frail, or a little emotionally vulnerable, it’s always a good idea to give them a comforting hug. And while you’re there, try and cop a feel as well.

::In an exaggerated fashion, Marcus moves towards Molly with what looks like the starting motions of a hug and then angles his hand towards her breast::

Molly: Top tip number 3: If you see someone you really fancy, try going red and ignoring them.

Marcus: Top tip number 4: If your date happens to have a fantastic pair of breasts, don’t demean him or her by staring at them. Try poking them instead.

::Marcus demonstrates on an uncomfortable and unreceptive Molly and, despite her persistently brushing off his hand, continues throughout tip five::

Molly: Top tip number 5: If you’re nervous before a date, don’t throw yourself off a tall building like my auntie Zena did. The chances are you’ll land on my father’s car as he pulls into the drive causing him to plough into my mother who’d only just come out to greet him. Then, attracted by the noise, Bonny, Tilly and Jessie bounded out and we’re all caught in the explosion.

::Molly is visibly upset but Marcus is oblivious and doesn’t break his stride at all::

Marcus: Top tip number 6: At the end of the evening, grab your date’s head in a vice-like grip and go in for the kill.

::Marcus demonstrates on Molly, forcing her to the ground as she finally snaps – from now on all her lines are delivered through tortured weeping::

Molly: Stop it Marcus, why do you hurt me? I can’t take it anymore. They’re all dead now don’t you understand?

::Marcus stands up as he delivers his ‘motivational’ line::

Marcus: Come on Molly, you’ve got to put it behind you. It’s all in the past.

Molly: Why won’t you let me just go to the fucking funeral Marcus?

::Marcus continues his attempt to ‘reconcile’ Molly and has strengthened his stance – arms outstretched to the audience::

Marcus: Look Molly, this is your life now; the glorious world of show business. We’re going places Molly. Look at them, they’re lapping this up. That guy’s even taking notes.

Molly: I’d never even heard of sodding Ropley before…

::Molly is inconsolable::

::Marcus looks down at Molly and the up at the audience; not sure what to do in the knowledge that his attempt at ‘consolation’ clearly hasn’t worked. He looks down at Molly again – thinking – and then back at the audience in a moment of realisation. He stoops down and applies top tip number two, copping a feel off Molly. He starts to dribble::
::Molly, too emotionally tired to fight Marcus off, accepts her fate and drags a cup towards Marcus to, at the very least, catch his dribble. Couple eventually exit stage somehow::

Jordan and Sex first Draft.

Tuesday, January 25th, 2005

Smoking
Smoking, Yaaa
Much safer than a pension,
Cos in the future non-smokers are never going to die,
Just get continuously smaller and slower.
They’ll be like ugly tarimigoties,
“Feed Me, Give Me Medicine, turn Coronation Street up really fucking loud so I can sleep through it.”

Gay

Do we have any closet homosexual in the audience?

No! I won’t do that bit, then.

Iraq

I was against the war in Iraq, it was so slow.

I mean 9/11 was great, loads of explosions, people throwing them out of windows, soot covered firemen, bloody fantastic stuff. All from about 100 different camera angles.

But Iraq was crap, It was so slow and the enemy weren’t very scary, they were just a bunch of underfeed housewives covered in explosives, no one going to believe that.

What they should have done is got the guy with the dodgy eye and hook, and used him; he was evil henchmen gold dust. Sadam Hussein could have done some Evil experiments on him so he grew to a hundred feet tall, and stomped around, destroying things. And Sadam could sit on his shoulder going ‘Crush, destroy, my pretty.’

And what happened to the weapons of mass destructions, they left them out. They should have kept them in; the whole thing does make that much sense without them.

What they should had done is had Blair as a lone wolf Storm into Sadam Secret Head Quarters, after fighting his way through a hundred Sadam Clone robots, then he rushes into the main room with a huge evil looking black and red missile, As the big red LCD timer had almost got to 45 minutes, and beads of sweat run down his forehead he make a rash choice and pulls out the correct wire and the timer stops.

But before he can relax a huge hook smashes through the roof and the ceiling caves in and there is The hook man giant and Sadam, going ‘Damm you blair you have been thorn in my side for too long, Kill him’

Then the camera pans to the side and Bush appears from the sidelines and hurls one of the improvised housewives straight into he month of the hook man giant. And his head explodes, brain goes everywhere as the body slumps to the floor, Sadam would fall and be impaled on the top of his own weapon of mass destruction, pure poetic justice.

Bush and Blair embraces in a passionate kiss as the credit role ‘look into my eyes and you see ….’ That how to do a war. Then we’d all know who to vote for.

Shaving

Pop Idol

Jordan

Jordan and peter Andrew split up. Not terrible surprising. Didn’t take a clairvoyant to predict that. I mean what could that huge breasted media whore possible have in common with Jordan.

I think this is funny, Jordan only real selling point is that she’s attractive, in a FHM kinda way. And she has a blind baby. He being punished for something, he must have been Hitler in a past life. Can’t see her, their no nutrition coming out of those Beach balls and before he’s out of the womb he’s got Gather Gates Cock in his eye.

Least he doesn’t have to read her book,

only remember them as haunting bed time stories and ‘then mummy had her breasts cut open and more silicon put into them, so that FHM would pay her to suck on a cucumber’ This poor crying malnutritioned little blind boy ‘do you what to hear the one where I make Gather Gates Tinky Winky bleed’, ‘Nine, mother, just kill me now, End my retched Existence.’