This Wasted Monologue is a collection of monologues written by the infamous blogger, Blue Skelton. All the Monologues on this blog are free for use as long as you cite Blue Skelton as the author. Regardless I hope you enjoy the rantings and ravings of This Wasted Monologue.
I have a confession to make: “I think that Chelsea Clinton is totally hot.” When the entire world called her dog-face and various other derogatory names, I thought to myself: I am in love with this girl.
Yes, I am in love with Chelsea Clinton. She has curly red hair, an innocent smile, and lips like a black girl (I mean blowfish). Monica had those same luscious lips. I have confided this secret to only a few close friends and they were disgusted. They told me that she would grow up to look just like her mom.To which I responded:
“What is wrong with that?”
They nearly puked.And while I don’t think that Hilary is nearly as hot as her daughter, I would certainly not throw her out of bed.In fact, I would not mind having both of them in bed with me.
Hilary could be my dominatrix and I could have a 3-Way with her and Anne Coulter.
Here is a David Sedaris Monologue that David Sedaris on Letterman.In this Essay, David reads his essay about the Stadium Pal.David is one of my favorite authors and I thoroughly enjoyed getting Naked with him.No, I am still not Gay.David is Gay and I am fine with that.But I am not and he is fine with that.
If I die, it’s not your fault.You might have given me the poison but I chose to ingest it.I am not a victim and you are not a villain.
If I die, hide my porn. I don’t want my mom to see.She has seen enough raising a wasted son.I am a waste of living tissue.I should be foreclosed upon and put to better use.
If I die, don’t take off my name tag and don’t attempt to hide the body.I don’t want your parents to lose a child.
If I just look like I am going to die, slit my wrist and suck out the poison. Don’t forget to spit. This is not the time to swallow.
There is no comfort in the darkness between sleep and death and I am trapped in between two worlds.If I die, execute Plan B.Don’t let me become a zombie.If I die, bury me with my Playboys and my Catcher in the Rye
Outside they are building my cell: a patchwork of aluminum, amalgamated steel and plywood. It is much nicer than the piss-stained cardboard box that I previously inhabited until my sister and husband were kind enough to take me in.
Now they are building me a doghouse in the backyard.They call it a shed but I call it a Trenchtown Hilton.It reminds me of when I used to live in that Alagado down in SA, smoking pot, drinking rum and reading Hunter S.and Ginzberg all day.
Yes, I have lived a wasted life but I cannot say that I have not enjoyed myself.Since the Alagado, I seem to have misplaced my Che Guevara shirt and I have entered the capitalist world of super-blogging.
“Imperialists… Aren’t we all?”
Now, I am living a minimum wage version of the Steve Pavlina Dream.And I know one thing and that is that I never want to work as a Clerk again, ever.
And so I will be happy in my Trench Town Hilton.Little does my jackass of a brother-law-know, I spliced a piece of his internet into the shed.Now I have the only shed in Kansas with high speed internet access.
So, if you will excuse me, I have some cough…blogging…cough to do.I just hope that the flesh-eating zombies don’t come by and try to recruit me into their undead-socialist movement.I burned my Che shirt long ago and this Bruce Lee shirt is all that I have left…
Sometimes, I wish that I that I was a zombie.I have decided that zombies are much better creatures than humans.Sure, they kill and Eat Brains but that is just their primal instinct.They can’t be blamed for engaging in brutality.Zombies are more civilized, united in purpose whereas Man should know better…
Call me a peace-loving hippie but I don’t see why so many people need to die and suffer in this world.God gave man the power to both create and destroy. We have it in our power to solve all the world’s problems.Unfortunately for man, Lucifer stabbed us all in the back and gave us Greed instead. We are stupid monkeys and we are easily deceived.
Sometimes I feel like I am Shaun of the Dead just moving from one dead-end to another.I make my money blogging sure, but it’s not much more than I would make from any other dead-end job.Plus, I know that I am two shakes away from returning to the world of undead, a retail clerk scanning objects one after the other until his head snaps or he dies from lack of health insurance.
I am tired at looking at a decaying world through poisoned eyes.It is my fault that I cannot focus on my reality and so the demon’s that haunted my father and haunt my dreams have taken control of this world.
The corporations are taking over the world because I read Friday…
As I Lay Dying… I write These Wasted Monologues. And as I lay here reflecting on my wasted life and look upon a world where humans behave worse than the undead, I wait for the end of time and dream about the only thing that ever made my life worthwhile, my great love. My time with her was the only time in my life that wasn’t wasted.
And I can only hope that after I have bled to death in some backwoods alley that my evil dream will end and the world will become the paradise it was before I tasted the forbidden fruits. Back when the world was bang-a-rang.
Authors Note:Don’t read too much into this post.I bought the 28 Days Later Soundtrack the other day because I love the song that’s playing “Inside the House”. And so I wanted to write a little tribute to go a long with the song and the theme. A lot of things in the world make me sad and now that I am facing the possibility of a terminal illness, I have trouble seeing the need for such brutality.
28 Days Laterwas the first Zombie Flickthat I ever watched that was also a morality play.The whole point of the movie is that Man is worse than the Zombies because they create evil things and choose to behave in the cruel fashion that they do whereas the zombies just do it because man infected them with a virus that makes them kill.
I am still the same happy and stable (albeit possibly dying) blogger that you know.I am too old to have the deep emotional troubles that arise not from insanity but from hormones and gluten allergies. And so, I will leave you with a happy song from the same movie that inspired the darkness found inside this post. I don’t see how anyone could feel bad after listening to this…
Scene: A response to “It Was a Normal Day” by Schelle Westbrook.If you take the time to read her story, you will know that this monologue is a parody tribute.
No one wants to hear about your normal day.We want to hear about your epic and Shakespearian power struggle against Mutant Ninjas. We want to hear about dead hookers and holistic hooligans. It’s just like the Joker said in Full Metal Jacket:
“A day without blood is like a day without sunshine.”
What people really want to hear is the tragic meanderings of a wasted life. They want to hear that you fucked a dead unicorn, slaughtered a village of pygmies or pole-danced at a Goth Concert. They want to pity you as they inject self-righteous loathing into their veins at your expense.They snort laughter into their nose as if your follies were powder for their own amusement.
I have lived a life of wasted days. I am a class clown, a buffoon, a poor pathetic demon to be kicked around for the world’s amusement.In this wasted life, I wonder what a normal day must look like.I can only see the world through dying eyes.I can only struggle to catch a glimpse of strange and wondrous things."
Marc Renton once said to choose life … But I chose something else.
Authors Note: Once again, this is a tribute to Schelle’s excellent work. If you didn’t read the work she titled a story It Was a Normal Day but her day was anything but.This monologue was play off of that theme.
At first, I wanted to comment that you should never begin a story with It Was a Normal Day but then I realized that the story was about a day that was anything but ordinary.I just hope that the story wasn’t true.
Scene: A long time ago in a Galaxy far far Away…. Darth Skelton goes over to the Dark Side of the force and slices his way through the Galaxy to kill the creature who stole his childhood.
Darth Skelton: I have become death, an unstoppable plague ravaging my way through the Galaxy. Since you saw me last, I have gone on what Quentin Tarantino would call a roaring rampage of revenge. I have sliced my way through: storm troopers, battle-droids, and Euro-Trash Jedi to get this far, and now there is just one creature left.That’s where I am flying to right now.And when I reach my destination… I am going to kill Jar Jar Binks.
Ah, we are approaching the planet of Naboo.Good, good…soon my transition to the Dark Side will be complete and I will destroy this planet of mongoloid Rastafarians. R-5, Land near the swamps and fetch me my waterproof light saber. When I get back we will take the ‘I Hate Gungans’ sticker off the back of the Sith Fighter.There won’t be any Gungans left to hate after today.
[sad beeping noises]
“Shut up R-5.”
I hate swimming almost as much as I hate Gungan’s.I should have just destroyed GungaCity through global bombardment but this is personal.Jar Jar Binks is personally responsible for taking my childhood and ruining the Star Wars franchise.No, I want this to be up close and personal. The problem is finding the clumsy-little fucker.All these damn Gungan’s look alike to me. Ah, there he is eating the Bantha pudu.
“Hello Jar Jar, my name is Darth Skelton.You killed my childhood. Prepare to die.”
“What do I want you ask? Just what I have always wanted, to watch you die.”
“Yah, that’s right. Yousa fucked up!”
[Light Saber Sound]
Author’s note:My fiction teacher and mentor told me that we are only allowed to use one exclamation point for our entire lifetime. So I guess I just used mine.Below is a hilarious Star Wars video that is probably different than anything you have seen before. I love it.And below that there is information on the DarkChurch of the Sith.
with him.
and 
