To Rachel, the nicest, entirely THE SWEETEST
GIRL
in the world I met at the bookstore--
If you glance upon this, don't get offended!
It's an act! It's just an act!
FOR THE LOVE OF GOD,
IT'S
ONLY AN ACT!
"The Coast is Clear". . . . .
was it ever an act?!
Write
me,
Winona!
CUT TO THE
CHASE &
MOVE TO
THE TABLE
OF CONTENTS
HERE
********************
BONUS SCREENPLAY
"The Catcher in the Rye" (DEMO)
Click
here
for It!
Check out other stuff in the
Media Vault!
More Screenplays?!
********************
"The mark of an immature man is that he wants to die nobly for a cause, while the mark of a mature man is that he wants to live humbly for one"
-- J.D. Salinger quoting the psychoanalysist Wilhem Stekel in
"The Catcher in the Rye"
The meaning of a special girl, is the type of
person who brings you back to a place you inhabited back when you were 10 or 11.
Walking around the neighborhood, you spy her talking to your mother. You leap
over the fence, and peek at her over the very top with wide eyes. Your mother calls you over,
and brings you out of your freeze. There are some things she'll never
understand. . . . . But with the ice broken, you get to talking with the special
one, and you feel so warm and gooey and happy inside. The girl is chatting and
smiling, and you're blushing up to the tips of your ears. This is ecstasy only a
prepubescent boy could dream up, and a little slice of heaven. Men speak of
their "conquests", but I have a feeling that it really works the other way
around. For her, he would go on adventures and bring back gold and treasure and
tales and finally lead her by the hand back to the castle he built for her.
\********************
A Castle? Out in the God-Damned
Midwest? How about a website?
A platform with which to air my "theater of the
mind"?
In any event, back to the motherfuckin' show!
The
Song
playin' is
"Blood, Sweat,
& Murder"
by that
Original Low Quality
Scott H.
Biram
From
A Live 2005
Show
At Emo's
in TEXAS
(Listen and Read!)
A Man Taken to Small-Mindedness, Alcoholic
Blackouts--
If not Lifted up Every Once in a While out of the Poverty
of
His Life-Long Depression by fits of Groggy, Red-Faced Merriment
Presents for your
two-bit Amusement. . . . .
"Dear Winona": &
Other Stories from
Version
3.0
"The Dirty Ol' One Man Band"
Or "Deliver
the Waif
from
Hollywood Babylon
and
into my
Weatherbeaten Shack"
"A Hilarious Howl from the Red-State
Hinterland"
A Cult
"Opus"
Offered up to a Cult Actress--
Or is it a heaping
shitpile
offered up to bad taste?!
One Redneck's Effort to Straighten out
the
West Coast Head of One Very Confused Starlet 
(-- "She looks confused, doesn't she?")
--"This better be good!"
An "Unholy Passion" Raging Across the
Midwest Like an Outhouse Fire. . . . . He can't be serious? You
can't actually be reading this?! But you are!
And if you thought that
"Saks,
Lies, and Video Tape"
was the Biggest Trainwreck
you've ever
seen, then you haven't
read
about
this fan's outrageous life!
Not the Biggest Miss Ryder Fan by any means,
but the Most
Motivated to Translate his Bargain-Basement Megalomania into $$$
Or even a career or something. .
. . .
"Yeah, and if a frog had wings
it wouldn't bump its ass when it hopped!"
-- Trey Wilson from "Raising
Arizona"
"The Michael Show" is in
Progress. . . . .
Now a word from our in-house
Sponsor!
Encourage this
cesspool!
Send me
$$$!
“Dear
Winona” & Other Stories from St. Louis!
is a hillbilly
clown-house
up in the mind of
Michael “Lawless” Adams,
a
26 year-old living the
cyber "J.R." fantasy at
his father’s home like an
impoverished
field hand waiting
to strike oil like a
vinegary Ross Perot-type working the
parched
Texas landscape and waving dust out of his face with a mule-skinner hat. He
will do
just about anything
to get the
attention
of the high-falutin' entertainment industry,
short of eatin' a lizard,
and the
touchstone
of this
online gamble is
rottenly serenading the fallen actress,
Winona Ryder
for all the
world
to see like one of
those
"shock rocker"
fellers.
The gimmick
is what he would
holler out
to bring out a disgraced, reclusive
celebrity
who was
arrested for
shoplifting
back in 2001 to the widespread
laughter and scorn
of the
world.
But he’s not disgusted. . . . . .
she can move into his weatherbeaten shack any ol' time!
Or rather, he can move in with her!
As a
Mark Twain
apostle with a
crusty glare,
looking down at his pipe as he reflects, he talks about what he's seen in
this
crazy world
with an arch of the eyebrows and nary a small hint of
amusement.
Come join him as he tells tall tales around the Hollywood chow line and
holds out his
hat for a
free meal.
Just don't boot him off too hard.
(Channeling My Voice Through
The Snarling Mouth of Scott H. Biram)
elcome to the show, dear audience-- a three-ring
square dance of earthy wisdom and incidentally, short stories.
Yes, "how sweet it is" . . . . . . as in quoting the great double-chinned Jackie
Gleason from his old-time variety show flickering on the dented, rabbit-eared
television. Eyes closed, the flat of his hand going one way, his neck
facing another direction, in a token of grand conceit. The gray, ruffled curtains hanging behind him,
a bulky camera fixed on his portliness, as he waits for the crowd to settle down, a series of small
bows, holding up his hands so the raucous studio audience would at last settle themselves.
And this is my little show, like a vinegary,
buck-toothed fundamentalist Christian on public cable access t.v. exercisin' his hokey 1st
Amendment freedoms. Over here you won't find cute "Japanimation" girls shooting
up against star-streaked backgrounds, or if you're just looking for footage of
shaved Asian schoolgirl poontang you can go change the channel.
-- "BRAAAAACKKKKKK!"
I shake my head. . . . . what has become of
American manhood?
Gimme a plug of chewing tobacco and a pint of
whiskey, and a turkey leg to gnaw off of. And an oily left hand to "beat off"
with.
-- "What are you lookin' at, faggot?"
I don't much cotton to
GIRLY-BOYS
who write sensitive coming-of-age stories that don't have happy endings. Hell,
you don't get anywhere in life being a lone, shivering coyote scratchin' around
for sympathy. I get so mad
sometimes, I want to take that author of "Catcher
in the Rye" and boot his shy,
sniveling ass clear out of the blistered heartland where he doesn't belong!
What do I care that J.D.
Salinger is Winona's
favorite author?
I ain't into all that sensitive
commie shit. You might as well put on a pink dress! And what am I supposed to
make of Winona herself, the face of moody discomfiture surrounding herself with
girly-boy admirers in pink dresses? You know, those hipsters, geeks, and fags?
The only geek I know would bite the head offa chicken at the county fair! You
pay your two bits and they usher you into the tent, and there he squats in a
pit, all hairy, jumpin' up and down on his haunches and then they throw down a
chicken and that's that! I should know, because that geek's my brother! He's
flesh n' blood, a real credit to the fam'ly!
But back to Miss Ryder. . . . .
I liked her more before she
surrounded herself with a bunch of "Kansas
City faggots", before she started doing
all these HEAVY movies that fellers like you and I wouldn't understand. It works
like this in our den of iniquity: while we red-state grunts are hoisting our
beers up on the couch and hooting at the outrageous goings-on on that dented,
rabbit-eared television, the cute girl comes in and quiets we rowdy boys down.
We gulp down our beers, ashamed of ourselves, and then the movie fires up again
and the cycle repeats.
"Shit on the dick", from
one of my friends-- who won't be named. Why he can't just say "shit", or "shuckydarns",
I don't know. Surely it doesn't get better than this. . . .
. though my friend takes to bragging that his dick is
"as wide as a tree trunk"
and how he can get a whore to scream with that dick. There they go at it in the
back of a beat-up RV trailer, the vehicle rocking on its springs. Surely there should
be things that no woman should be paid to put up with, but when my
friend is done, he blurts out:
"Shit on the dick!".
There's a little
slice of heaven
on this earth
and it sure ain't here in Missouri. . . . .
********************
Click
here
for the set-list of stories!
Click here for the Media Vault
(Of Shameless Shoestring Self-Promotion)
********************
BONUS SCREENPLAY
"The Catcher in the Rye" (DEMO)
Click
here
for It!
Check out other stuff in the
Media Vault!
More Screenplays?!
********************
© 1999-2008 by Insufferable Industries