Writing A Chuck Lorre Comedy In A Few Easy Steps

For all those aspiring screenwriters out there who can't seem to catch a break and get their great ideas in the big and/or small screen here are a few simple steps to follow that has made Chuck Lorre a huge success in todays ADHD world of channel flipping. So my fellow screenplay writers, throw down your Starbucks coffees and turn your MacBook to 'full steam ahead' (that's a Mac term, right?) and lets get writing

1. Setting

First of all you need to set your series in a place that is easy for people to relate to. For example at home, a la Two and a Half Men, Dharma and Greg, big Bang Theory (actually I think all Chuck Lorre series are set primarily in the homplace so this one is a no brainer, just set your series in the home of your characters).

I hear what you're saying fellow writers, "That's been done a hundred times over, I can't copy that", or "What about setting it in a pawn shop, that's cool and artsy like me" or "Mine's set in an antiquery which is even more artsy than a pawn shop" and even "Mine's set in a metaphysical world where everybody is no one and nobody is everyone else". So put away your quirky settings and set the series at home, be that house or flat

2. Characters

When creating your characters don't make them too complicated, best to not even give them a three dimensial personality. Make the character so shallow that in turning to the side they would disappear and never return. People like simple and easy, too complicated and they're flipping over to Jersey Shore where everyone is so shallowyou could barely fill a thimble with their personalities.

Take Chuck Lorre's example: Two and A Half Men; Charlie- Sex crazed booze hound, Alan- Sex crazed weirdo. Neither of these characters had personalities evolved past their constant sex talk. Here's how one episode usually goes

Charlie: I just had so much sex
Alan: And I had no sex
Audience: Ha ha, one guy had sex and the other didn't, classic Two and a Half Men!

Then just take this and repeat in slightly different ways for 24 episodes and shazam you got yourself a tv series

3.Plot Devices

Keep your plots simple, do not delve too much into plot detail, this is a must! If you don't want your audience flipping over to Jersey Shore again, where the plot usually involves either sex or fighting, then you keep the plot to an absolute minimum. You don't want several subtle subplots confusing your audience.

Take Chuck Lorre's Big Bang Theory for example: This series involved two geeky guys living across from a hot popular girl (nothing complicated so far). An episode usually involved someting like this:

Geek #1: Hey, do you want to come with us to (insert geek activity here)
Hot Girl: I don't know what that means, is it something to do with shoes/fashion/drinking? (any one of the three is fine)
Audience: Ha ha, they don't understand each other because one is a geek and the other is popular, it's like they're speaking a different language, classic Big Bang theory!

And, as before, repeat this process in various, only slightly different ways, for 24 episodes and you got yourself an amazing tv series


So there you go, three easy steps in creating your very own tv series. Tune in next time when I take these helpful tips and write the pilot episode to my very own Chuck Lorre tv series

Nicolas Cage: Greatest Actor Ever?

In answer to that initial question: Yes, yes he is the greatest actor of all time, of all time. I said of all time twice there because he may be the greatest actor in two parallel worlds. That's right Nicolas Cage exists just as he is in an alternate universe where he is exactly the same and insanely insane. Nicolas Cage is the man we hate to love, while we'll never admit to liking his movies to our friends while chillin' in the local cafe and writing our various novels/screenplays, etc, etc, while in reality in our heart of hearts we all love a bitta Nic Cage in our lives

I hear what you're saying peeps of the internet; "How is this possible?" "No he's not" and the ever classic "This isn't the porn link I clicked on!"

Well, just hear me out or go back to the link and click it again, it's probably just broken.

Firstly Nicolas Cage is the nephew of Francis Ford Coppola, the director of the Godfather franchise, and could have skated by on that name, ie, Nicolas Coppola, but instead he changed his name to forge his way into our hearts and into the history books!

Nicolas Cage has starred in 68 movies! You heard right, that's 68 goshdarn movies. The man is only 47 for crying out loud (which I do, often and repeatedly cos I'm desperately lonely. Women of the internet please mail me on you phone numbers and maybe we could get together. I know a nice little place down the street where we could get dinner, maybe see a movie after, who knows I might even bring you to the illegal endangered animal fighting ring I sometimes frequent with my chums. But I'm going off on a tangent here and Nicolas Cage doesn't believe in tangents, nor does he believe that fish can breathe underwater, don't ask me why but apparently that's the case, something about snorkels and underwater cities, don't ask him about it, it sounds interesting but he just goes on and on and on about it). For a man who started acting in the 80's that's pretty much two and a half movies a year.

And then there's the actualy movies he's starred in. You say he hasn't been in good movies but in reality he has, like loads of good movies, for example, National Treasure, Face/Off, Con Air, Raising Arizona to name but a few. I would name all 68 of his movies but this is not a list about his movies only a list of why he is so great and amazing and perfect and handsome. Do you really think any of these movies would have been better without Nic Cage, no, they would have been truly awful and I mean awful. You take the lead character out of a movie and all you have is a load of supporting actors trying to fill the void left behind by Nic Cage, the man is irreplacable.

The sheer breadth of his acting career, have you ever seen an ctor star in so many varied genres of movies. This is a man not bound by the strictures of normal script choosing. He does not go by quality of script nor calibre of director not even does he go for the good supporting cast. No, Nic Cage makes all his decisions based on the wheel from Twister, but instead of various colours he just has the genres of various movies sellotaped on. He's got a pile of scripts in front of him he just gives that wheel a spin and BAM! you got yourself Season of The Witch SHAZAM! Gone in 60 Seconds POW! Captain Corelli's Mandelin KABOOM Ghost Rider

Have you seen the man in a moustache? this one doesn't even need explaining. Just behold and revel in the glory that is a demi-god

Not only that but have you ever been sitting at home or in the cinema watching a movie and just said to yourself, "Do you know who would be better in that role?" Answer: "Nicolas Cage". The answer is always Nicolas Cage (even 2+2= Nicolas Cage but that's Cagenomics, a new and total global market saving version of economics that I invented. There's not many rules to be bound to, you pretty much accept every job or offer of any sort and then spend you're money like it's going to self destruct in 20 minutes) Come with me on a magic boat ride down River Nicolas as I tell you how some movies could have been Cageified; Twilight- Nicolas Cage as Edward, Titanic- Cage as Rose, Avatar- All the blue guys resemble Nic Cage. So next time you're watching a shitty movie just imagine what it would be like with Nic Cage as the star

I just hope that when Nic Cage dies, if ever, and ascends to his rightful place atop Mount Olympus that there will be someone else to take his place

And if none of those reasons can convinve you then check this, the man might even be immortal.

Conspiracy? I Think So!

So, I assume we've all heard that Donald Trump has stated his intention to run in the next presidential election and has started his smear campaign already, questioning Obama's Americaninity!

But what you didn't know was the awful truth behind it all!

First off though we must look at the facts!

1. Barack Obama and Donald Trump both have names consisting of 11 letters each
2. The anagram of Donald Trump: Land Dump Rot. 
3. If we take the letters of Trumps name and Obamas we get 'A Marmot Pub'
4. Taking each letter from Trumps name and making it an acronym we get: D.emocrats O.k N.ow A.nd L.iking D.emocrats T.ops. R.ight U.nder M.y P.ropaganda!

I know you're looking at all this and wondering what I'm getting at. Well first of all the eleven letters is a clear reference to 9/11!!

And the anagram of his name; Land Dump Rot. What did America do in 1969, they landed on the moon to dump rotten waste!

Mixing the names and getting the anagram 'A Marmot Pub', is an obvious reference to the long standing fact that the Democrats have always wanted to open a pub dedicated to Marmots, if you don't know it's a type of squirrel.

The acronym of Trumps name is a blatant fuck you to the Republican party, that liking Democrats is ok now and that he's doing it even under all the propoganda he's spouting about Obama, which is in fact only strengthening Obama's ride to the re-election

And so, I, putting all these facts together have come up with a revelation that will shock the very world and bring it to it's knees:

"That the moon landing in 1969 was faked so sas to cover up the secret dumping of rotten waste in space by the American governemt at the time, 9/11 was a distraction invented to distract conspiracy theorists from this fact and exposing the plan by giving them something new to theorize about. This dumping of rotten waste in space was a way for the Democrats to save enough money to spearhead their ultimate goal of opening a pub dedicated to the creature they most revere in all of the world 'The Marmot'."


And who was behind it all? Well isn't it obvious? It was the most cunning, cleverest, ingenious mastermind of them all.... Flava Flav

You diabolical genius! Damn you and your Marmot themed pub to hell!

Down The Pub

"You're nuts" he declared, slamming a hammy fist down on the oaken counter-top, the sudden outburst drawing enquiring glances form other patrons of the bar. He sheepishly looked around, his ruddy face taking on a deeper shade of red. Turning back to me, he lowered his voice "You're crazy, there is now way he was the best. To begin with he was too greedy and was not a team player"

I leaned forward on the bar stool, pointing a finger at him, dirt from the days work still lingering under the nail, "And what would you know, ya dope? The last time you togged out for anything was to be the anchor at the local sports day tug-a-war, and we all know the reason why they even asked ya for that!" I said punctuating my point with a jab to his protruding stomach

He coughed and sputtered for a moment before regaining his composure and slapped my hand out of the way, "You think you know it all, Mr. High and Mighty"

"Well I did kit out for my county after all" I said, drawing myself up on the stool and looking down on my companion

"That was one time and the only reason that happened was because of a clerical error, ya eejit!"

I grunted and turned back to lean on the counter, looking in the mirror I saw the door open and admit a fine looking young brunette and her friend. I watched as she placed a hand in front of her mouth and laughed as they took their seat in the corner of the bar. Nudging the big man in the ribs and nodding behind me, I continued my vigilence of the local talent. He turned around awkwardly in his place to blatantly look at her as I raised my eyes heavenward

Turning back, he gave me a lecherous smile. "She's a fine bit"

"As if she'd ever be interested in a lump like you!"

He thumped me on the arm, "Feck ya, I'm handsome!"

"You're about as handsome as  a slapped pig"

"And you're...."

His insult was interrupted by the sound of two glasses clinking down on the counter. We both swung around to see Jimmy, the owner, standing there with two glasses of amber godness.

"On the house boys, ye did a fine job ploughing me field this morning"

Without uttering a word we snatched up our glasses and took a deep swig, as Jimmy turned away

As we finished off the drinks Jimmy turned back to us, "And for the record, Michael Donnellan was the best footballer this country's ever seen...."

Scene 5 From Screenplay of the Century 'Hot Fever'

This is the fifth scene from my movie about revenge

Scene 5

Int: Prison cell – Day – Kurt Russell is groggily awakening from his brutal beating that has left him with two black eyes and cuts and scrapes all over his face. He groans and sits up, looking around to see where he is

Kurt Russell

Ah fuck, I’m in a goddamn prison cell again, this is not good

Guy

Sure is not my lovely boy

Kurt Russell

Who are you and don’t call me ‘lovely boy’ again?

Guy

Oh I’m just an admirer of that pretty face of yours, my velvet faced pretty

Kurt Russell

Oh my fuck, they put me in with a fucking weirdo

Kurt stands up and walks over to the bars of the prison and starts shouting

Kurt Russell

Hey let me the fuck out, I didn’t do anything wrong, I’m a victim of police entrapment

Guy

Police entrapment? What do you mean, my silken love doodle

Kurt Russell

Well you see the police pretended to be fome firemen and tricked me into pulling over out of their way, and then they had the cheek to tell me I had crashed into a hot dog stand and that that I had been sitting in my car for an hour without realising! They fucking tricked me and lied to me

Guy

Oh my, that sounds awful. I got tricked too you know. I thought it was legal to flash in public but apparently it’s not

The guy walks up beid eKurt and slips an arm around his waist, Kurt shrugs it off irritably and turns to th guy

Kurt Russell

Look you fucking weirdo, I want nothing to do with your perversion so just leave me alone or I’ll roundhouse kick you into the middle of next week, where I’ll be waiting to roundhouse kick you back to this moment. You got that?

Guy

Oh sure, you just talk dirty to me and I’ll listen, mmm, you are a very pretty young man aren’t you.

Kurt Russell

You sir are deranged

Guy

That’s it, more stuff like that, you make me so hot

A police man approaches the cell and opens the door

Cop

Russell, Kurt. You’re free to go. Now get the hell outta here

Guy

Oh no, don’t say that, keep him locked up a while longer. Say you will, please!

Kurt Russell

Get me the fuck out of here

Guy

Look me up when I get out my chiselled Adonis

Kurt Russell flips him off and walks out of the cell

Kurt Russell

So who let me out Bro?

Cop

I ain’t your bro and it was some broad, said she was your lawyer

Kurt Russell

A lawyer? I’m Kurt Roundhouse Kickin Russell, I don’t need fuckin pansy ass shit like a lawyer

Cop

Whatever, she’s quite a looker though!

The two walk out into the atrium of the police station to see a beautiful woman standing there, staring at Kurt Russell as he walks out.

Lawyer

Mr Russell I assume

Kurt Russell

Yeah, who’s asking?

Lawyer

My name is Miss Busey, I was Mr Browne’s lawyer and I was the one who bailed you out of prison

Kurt Russell

That sounds weird. Why would you do something weird like that

Miss Busey

Because Mr Browne stip…

Kurt gives her a smug smile

Kurt Russell

It’s cos you love the K-Dog ain’t it. Big Poppa Bukowski got your motor runnin’ eh?

Mr Busey

Mr Russell, I can assure you my interest has nothing to do with sex. I only did this because you were missing for the reading of the will and Mr Browne stipulated in his will that you were to bailed out if, and I quote, “If Kurt does something stupid after I die and gets himself locked up then some of my money should be used to bail the stupid son of a bitch out of prison”

Kurt still not listening to her and is now flexing his guns

Kurt Russell

So when are we gonna knock boots then? Do the nasty tango? Bump uglies? More sexual reference! Boom! Kurt Russell is into you!

Miss Busey

Mr Russell all I am going to do is drive you hoe and then that will be the end of our dealings

Kurt Russell

Sure thing doll face, whatever you say. We should stop at a pharmacy first to pick up some johnnies!

Miss Busey rolls her eyes and makes an irritated noise

Miss Busey

Come on Mr Russell, the sooner I get you home the sooner I can

Kurt Russell

Get into my bed! Boom, Kurt Russell is on fire!

Miss Busey

Sigh!!!!

Kurt Russell

Alright let’s go, I gots a boner that just won’t quit like that ass of oyurs

Monkey Shocked By Movie Endings

Do not read this if you don't want your movie spoiled by the ending!

 Sixth Sense

 The Crying Game

 Citizen Kane

 The Usual Suspects

 Planet of The Apes

A Beautiful Mind

The Truth Behind The Bin Laden Killing!

Do you, like me, find that there was something fishy behind the death of Osama Bin Laden? Do you feel like it was a bit too easy for them to have found him after eluding them for almost ten years? Well here's the truth about who actually led to Bin Laden's death

The Lizard People!!


That's right it was, once again, those pesky Lizard People, I told you about them but would you listen, no!

They're everywhere and once again they have orchestrated the death of someone who was too radical for them to have around the place messing with their plans of mass human enslavement!

Why, I hear you asking, would they want to have him killed now when they could have done it years ago! Well, don't ask me because I'm not a Lizard Person and I have no idea how they think but here are some theories I have come up with:

1. Bin Laden was in fact a Lizard Person collaborator himself and betrayed them over something, which led to his death
2. Bin Laden found their secret HQ somewhere in Pakistan and they just had to kill him over that knowledge
3. The Lizard People are just nuts and wanted to kill someone infamous
4. Obama's re-election is coming up and he's a Lizard Person collaborator and the death of Bin Laden greatly increased his chances of being re-elected
5. Bin Laden was a Lizard Person who went renegade and tried to help the humans start a revolution! 
6. He had a stupid looking beard

Now, I know what everyone is thinking, that it's too easy to just blame the Lizard people, that this just sounds like a crazy plot for a Hollywood movie, where's your goddamn proof? Well, I have received images from a secret source over in Pakistan who sent them to me yesterday and, well, let's just say that they make for some very interesting looking indeed. The following images prove that the Lizard People were in fact implicit in the killing of Osama Bin Laden

 

Here we can see a lizard person sneaking up on Bin Laden as he does his morning talk show routine! He didn't actually have a talk show but he was obsessed with Loose Women and wanted to be on their show one day and he practised every day for it

 

And here we can see a Lizard Person's hand finishing the job, choking the life out of Bin Laden. He did quite a number on his face, didn't he? Must have been quite the angry about whatever it was Bin Laden did to them

I apologize for the lack of a quality photo but my inside source only had a disposable camera on him at the time but as you can see this is incontrovertible proof of The Lizard People's hand in all this! Just make sure to keep an eye out for Lizard People in your life or you never know what will happen next. Can you trust anyone? What about that guy looking at you as you read this? What about your friends? Your own siblings? Your parents? Can you really trust anyone not to be a lizard person or a lizard person collaborator? I certainly don't! That's why I plan on becoming a hermit! In fact I don't trust anyone reading this right now! How do I know you're not in league with them! Goddammit, everyone is against me!

The Bearded Wonder

The Outraged Hipster and Sexist Dick Memes

Who's The Sidekick?

An argument about who the sidekick is and something else involving sore feet and heartburn!

A Chat Between Friends

A chat between two friends as they meet in front of the liberry on college campus!

The Most Eloquent Put Downs Ever

This man is so eloquent in his put-downs that you may not even know that he has made you look a fool until you take a look in the dictionary

Double Standards? What Double Standards?

The double standards of this woman is enough to drive any man to having a hissy fit!!!

When A Sociopath Comes A-Callin: Part 3

The third installment from my book about a night on the town with a certifiable sociopath

 Chapter 4 - The Philosophies of A Hateful Man

As Hugh dragged me along the streets I kept giggling away at the spork in his hand as it performed the hula for me. After ten to fifteen minutes of this Hugh slapped me across the face and stared angrily at me

"Have you been listening to anything I've been saying you dick?"

"Um something about wearing ponchos on a night out?"

"Well, yes but also about my philosophies on life"

"What philosophies? I thought you were like some sort of agent of chaos, just went through life living like a dickhead!"

"Hey! Fuck you, I am not a dickhead!"

He waved the spork around in the air threateningly and tried to stab me a little. I laughed and he stabbed me harder until the plastic just snapped in two. He swore loudly and kicked out at a litter bin

"My philosophies on life will make sure you get through tonight unharmed"

"Unharmed, what the fuck are we going to do tonight?"

"Never mind that and just listen up. Firstly...."

We were interrupted by what I had assumed to be a filthy hobo but it seemed Hugh knew this guy

"Hey Hugh man, what's up?" The filthy hippy asked, his long ponytail threatening to out him as the most feminine guy around, his only saving grace was the majestic beard covering his face. I pondered it as it waved around in the air making nice shapes as Hugh glared angrily at the newcomer

"What the fuck do you want Forecan?" he demanded, angrily shaking the broken spork under his nose, I watched on eagerly as the beard tried to battle the wriggling spork

"Well I was ju.... oof"

Before he could finish Hugh had punched him squarely in the nuts. The hobo, Forecan, collapsed in a heap on the ground, writihing around on the leaf strewn pavement making the odd grunt and wheeze of pain

"Come on, lets get out of here"

Hugh tugged at my arm and I followed after him. As we walked away from the writhing mass that was the hippy we were followed by a shout of 'I will have my revenge, I swear on great Plato's grave I shall have my revenge on you Hughie and your idiotic friend as well!!"

"Is he serious" I asked, I had always been a little bit afraid of hippies ever since I seen that documentary on Woodstock

"Of course not, that guy is a fuckin pansy. I don't fear anyone or anything for I am the great Julius Caesar! Defender of Rome and Champion of it's peoples"

"What the fuck are you on about Hugh!"

"Shut the fuck up and listen!"

He tugged me down an alleyway muttering something about a shortcut under his breath but as far as I could see we were verging on a dead end, a pile of bin bags scattered along the walls

"Now for my philosophies, firstly; never trust anyone! Especially not me cos I am an awful dick!"

"But you said five minutes ago that you weren't!"

"Come on man and open your eyes, did I or did I not spike your drink with a fuck load of ecstasy?"

"But you said I took it!"

"And you believed me because you're a trusting sap!"

"Ah for fucks sake Hugh, I want to go home"

"No, now listen up, number two; don't look anyone in the eyes except me"

"Alright.... I guess, that one seems helpful"

I looked into his eyes and what I saw there will haunt me for the rest of my life, I could see the madness swirling about in a writhing heap fighting against what little sanity this crazed maniac had left, I could almost see the pupils changing shape at random, one bigger than the other. He smiled and I could see the raging whirlpool of insanity gain momentum behind those dreadful eyes, if one were to look into the eyes of Dracula I imagine this is what they would see, utter and irrevocable madness. I shuddered and looked away

"Ooops, sorry I should have said, never my eyes, my eyes are not for mortal souls to gaze upon!"

We arrived at the end of the alley, a red brick wall rearing up over our heads. Hugh looked puzzled for a moment before with a grunt he just turned us about and headed back out to the exit of the alley

"Number three; never, ever talk to anyone but me! Got that!"

He twisted my arm painfully to strengthen his point, I grunted my assent as the pain reached the point just before I knew a bone would snap, he let go and I rubbed my aching arm tenderly

"And finally numero fouro! Never take anything offered to you unless it's from me, someone might have spiked it"

"Like you did to m...."

I grunted as he punched me in the gut. He dragged me on out of the alley as if the whole episode had never happened.

We stopped as he blinked and looked up and down the street, the hippy had managed to get up and leave I noticed and wondered what kind of revenge he would have planned

"Now where were we going?" Hugh seemed to ask himself

I groaned as I realised he was dragging me randomly through the streets of town and babbling madly into my ear.

"Christ Hugh, do you know what the fuck you're even doing?"

"Of course I do, but what to wear, what to wear?"

It seemed he wasn't even listening to me and was having a conversation with himself. I tried to sidle away and get home. I had managed to get out of his line of sight and was just turning to leg it down the street away from him when he grabbed me from behind with a surprisingly strong arm

"Come on, I know just the place we can go. Although she might not be too happy to see me"

"Where are we going? Who's 'she'?"

"Don't worry your pretty little head about a thing, we're about to embark on the greatest night of my life!"

"Your life?!?!? What about mine" I asked incredulously

"Either you will have a mediocre night or the most horrifying ever. You might actually enjoy yourself if you manage to abide by my philosophies"

"Jesus H. man, those weren't even philosophies! They were just some ambiguous rules!"

"Whatevs bro! Now are you comin or are you comin!"

It seemed I didn't have a choice in the matter as he dragged me forcefully down the street to a night I would regret the rest of my life.....

The Many Brows of Dave Chapman

My good pal Dave Chapman has invisible brows. See below;

The original!!!

Like normal folk getting their hair cut in the style of their favourite celebrity I have given Dave a makeover so what he'd look like with celebrity eyebrows. The following is what happened

The Jack Black

The Jack Nicholson

The Nicolas Cage

The Ray Romano

The Angelina Jolie

Please vote on which set of brows he looks best in! 

Also please make suggestions as to other celebrity eyebrows you'd like to see him wearing

Scene 4 From My Screenplay 'Hot Fever'

Scene 4 from my political thriller about espionage and political corruption!

Scene 4

Int: Inside of Car – Night – Kurt Russell is drving with one hand while downing bottles of bud with the other, his cheeks are clearly tearstained and his eyes are red.

Kurt Russell:

NIALL!!! NIALL!!!

A series of flashbacks occur of good times between Kurt and Niall

Kurt starts to smile a little until the last flashback occurs which is Nialls death again

Kurt downs another beer and is now vering all over the road. Lights flash in the backround and a siren blares.

Kurt Russell

Fuckin balls man, it’s the fire brigade, better pull in out of their way

Pulls over to the side of the road. Camera pans out and we see that he’s been crashed for some time into a hot dog stand.

Cops arrive by the window and knock and make roll down window motion which Kurt duly obliges.

Kurt Russell

Wait a minute, you aren’t the fire brigade, you’re the police!

Officer 1

Yes we are sir! How much have you had to drink sir

Kurt Russell

I could sue you guys for pretending to be fire brigade, I could have kept driving on and not paid any heed to you guys

Officer 2

Sir, do you know where you are right now

Kurt Russell

Sure do, I’m on Highway 66, making the trip in honour of my good buddy Niall Browne.

Officer 2

Sir, you’re crashed into a hot dog stand on the pavement of the [street] in New York

Kurt Russell

You lie, you lie to me, just like everyone else lies to me

Officer 1

Sir, I can assure you we’re not…

Kurt Russell:

Shut your damn lying mouth, you liar. You’re a smelly liar face

Officer 1 takes out his baton and opens the door of the car, dragging Kurt out of the car

Officer 1

Nobody but nobody calls me a smelly liar face, let’s get him Lou.

Officer 2

Sure thing Lou

Officer 1

Lou is your name, my name is Grant

Officer 2

Ah yeah I forgot. Well, enough about names let’s beat the shit outta this guy Lou

Grant rolls his eyes heavenward and mutters ‘idiot’ under his breath before laying into a drunken Kurt Russell viciously with a baton, the scene fades away as Kurt passes out into unconsciousness.

When A Sociopath Comes A-Callin: Part Deux

Hugh had dragged me outside and I blinked, a little startled. When had the world become this bright and amazing. I broke free of his grip and wandered over to a tree and gently rubbed my face against it's velveteen surface

"Hello Mr Tree" I cooed softly "Where have you been for my whole life?"

I was grabbed roughly from behind and spun around on the spot to see Hugh glaring at me

"Jesus! Bro, you cannot hold your drugs, can you?"

"Sure I can Chewie! But come on, Leia won't save herself"

With that I ran up the street and hopped into the Millennium Falcon prepared to fly into space to save the Princess. I sat there for a good ten minutes, exploring the cosmos, before I heard some giggling from behind me. I spun around abruptly and slid off the hood of the Merc I was sitting on. I groaned and sat up to see Hugh with two attractive women, all ready for hitting the town from the looks of the short skirts, high heels and freshly painted faces. I grinned stupidly up at them

"So which one of you ladies want to bang my boy here?" Hugh said casually

I struggled to my feet and attempted to speak but only managed a garbled 'blurgh'

Hugh slapped one of the girls on the ass and leant in real close to me, the  smell from his poncho hinting at a recent self urination

"Bro don't worry about it, I got this one but you owe me one!"

"What do you mean 'got this'?"

Hugh laughed and held up a couple of notes in his hand

"As in I'll pay for the hookers this time but you owe me big time buddy!"

It took a few seconds to process what he had just said but I straightened and up 

"Hugh, I am not paying for sex"

"Of course you're not man..... I'm paying for it. No worries"

I turned away from Hugh and back to what were clearly, now that I looked properly, a couple of prostitutes

"Ladies I'm sorry but I'm not going to be needing your services tonight and neither is my friend"

I was quite proud that I had managed to say all of that seeing as my jaw was grinding away like crazy, I was starting to worry I'd grind my teeth away to dust

I started to walk up the street, constantly rubbing my hands on my jeans trying to dry the sweat off them. I could hear Hugh behind me saying goodbye to the ladies

"Don't worry ladies, we'll be back later!"

His footsteps quickened to catch up with me.

"Alright you faggot, how are we going to get laid tonight? We're both high as kites and you're rubbing holes in your jeans!"

"Firstly, I am not a faggot an...."

"Queer! A fruit! A homosexual! Call it what you will"

"Leave me alone will you, I need to think"

"Come on, I got the perfect place we can go to"

I stopped, looking down at my feet. Staring perplexedly

"Dude, did my feet fall off somewhere?"

"What? No!"

"Then where are my feet, I've lost my fucking feet man."

Hugh stepped in front of me, a wide grin on his face

"Dude I know just where you're feet are."

"You do?"

"Yeah come on, follow me"

He started to glide up along the street, like a hover human of some sort. I stared after him for a few minutes before calling out

"Dude, how can I go anywhere with no feet?"

He glided back to me and hovered on the spot beside me

"What the fuck are you talking about?"

"I mean, how can I walk anywhere with no feet!!"

I cried out as he slapped me hard across the face

"Wake the fuck up man and lets go"

"Well can you at least teach me the gliding thing you're doing?"

"Oh for fucks sake, you shouldn't have taken so much e man"

"But I didn't take any, you spiked my drink with it!"

"Did I?"

"Didn't you?"

"No, of course not, would I do that to you?"

"Well I suppose not!"

"Of course not, now lets go, we're gonna be late!"

I took a tentative step and then another, once I found I could walk without toppling over I followed easily along behind Hugh, waiting impatiently to get my feet back

"So, where are we going Hugh?"

He just tapped the side of his nose and laughed, I couldn't tell if it was the drugs or not but that laugh sounded a touch on the evil side.

"Come on man, you're freaking me out here, just tell me for Chrissake"

He stepped in real close to me and threw his arm round my shoulders, his voice dropping to a whisper

"If I tell you, then it'll ruin the surprise and you don't want me to ruin your surprise, do you?"

He said the last bit in a hushed whisper as he withdrew what looked like a plastic spork from the inside of his poncho. This guy was probably laden down with plastic cutlery and God only knows what the guy was able to do with it.

I couldn't take my eyes off the spork, partly because of the thinly veiled threat but mostly because the thing was dancing around in his hand. I was giggling softly as he led me up the street and into the less well off part of the town...

When A Sociopath Comes A-Callin: Part 1

So there I was, just chillin' in my apartment, wearing my favourite jeans, Def Leppard t-shirt and flannel shirt, ready to just watch the Nascar 500 when I heard a knock on the door. With a loud weary sigh I got up off my foldaway lawn chair and answered the door. Standing there with a grin on his face was none other than my old pal Hugh B. Hateful. I quickly tried to slam the door in his face before he saw me but he managed to get a steel toe capped boot in the way, why he was wearing steel toe-capped boots I'll never know but then again I rarely know what that guy does these days.

"Ray! I know you're in there, I saw you opening the door, you fucking dick!" I could see the top of his curly head poking round the corner of the door as I tried to shove it closed

"Mister Ray is not home" I called out in my best foreign accent, which usually always ended up an Australian accent "I am only simple cleaning lady from Romania, please to not disturb"

Even I didn't think he'd fall for that one but stranger things have happened. Despite my best efforts though he managed to get his head in through the space and fix me with that unblinking he gets sometimes when he's trying to be cool

"Hah, good joke man, come on let me in"

I sighed loudly and long, to make sure he was, as always, an unwelcome visitor. I reluctantly let go of the door and let him in. As he entered I noticed he was in his customarily odd garb. Today, it seemed, he was in a lazy mood as I'm pretty sure he was still in his pyjamas with a manky old poncho thrown on over them, all this brought together with the steel toe-capped boots.

"So whatcha doin' dude?"

"Nothin really, just boring stuff" I lied trying to distract him

"Ah cool, I'll join you then"


"That's no problem, I'm fine on my own really!"

"Nah, dude, bros gotta hang out some time"

"Ugh, fine whatever. You wanna beer or something?"

"Sho nuff!"

"Why are you still talking like that?"

"Because it's righteous, duuude!"

"And now you're just getting different stereotypes mixed up! Forget it, just grab a lawn chair and make yourself at home"

I made my way through to the kitchen and grabbed two bottles of bud from the fridge. I contemplated going back in there and knocking Hugh over the head with the bottle and leaving him outside somewhere, knowing him he'd probably think he'd passed out and just woken up there. I decided against it though, it's hard dealing with someone who can't read social situations properly.

I walked back into my living room, which is basically just a in the middle of the floor with two lawn chairs facing it. The reception was awful but I didn't know any better. Hugh had already taken his place in one of the lawn chairs so I handed him his beer and sat down.

"Dude, some boring car racing was on so I switched over to our favourite soap! No need to thank me, it's what I do!"

I sighed wearily and relaxed to start watching the 'soap', which was actually a documentary on the Nazis. This guy was nuttier than squirrel shit but I wasn't going to rock the boat. I saw the guy pull one of those plastic knives on a cashier once because she gave him the CORRECT change.

After a few minutes of silence and him staring me out of it while I pretended not to notice I was getting uncomfortable so I decided to go to the bathroom

"Dude I gotta go to the watering hole, back in a minute!"

"Cool, I'll come with you"

Christ, this guy could not read social situations at all

"Em... no that's alright, I can go by myself for now"

"Well, whatever. Don't be too long"

He said it so innocently but it sounded so much like a threat that I hurried off to the bathroom. Once there I just pulled down the toilet seat and sat there fervently that when I came back he'd be gone. I must've waited ten minutes or so before venturing back out only to see him still sitting there and staring right at me.

"That was long, he said simply"

"Well, yeah it was a number two after all"

I retook my seat and drained the last of my beer in one as we sat watching the 'soap'. He continued to laugh at.... something, I have no idea what because this was one hell of a depressing documentary.

After half an hour or so I started to feel a little light-headed and strange. Hugh looked over to me and smiled

"How's that e going down, starting to feel anything yet?"

"Wait! What?"

"Dude I put e in your drink when you went to the bathroom"

"Why... why would you do something like that?"

"Because I saw you spiking my drink with e, so I got you back bro. April fools! Ha ha ha ha ha"

"But I never spiked your drink with anything"

I was starting to feel weird now, like my jaw was unhinged from my head and the colours from the tv were starting to dance in front of me

"Well, if you never spiked my drink with anything, then why am I high as a kite right now"

"I don't know.... maybe you took the drugs yourself"

"Hah, yeah right! I've never taken drugs in my life!"

"Then where'd you get the drugs to put in my drink!"

I found I was standing up now and just rubbing myself all over, who knew flannel felt so good?

"Search me" he giggle hysterically


He stood up and grabbed me by the arm dragging me along

"Come on man, we ain't wasting this buzz sitting round here. For fucks sake, I must have put six or seven tabs in your drink"

I knew I should have been  panicking a little as he dragged me out of my apartment and out of my building but the way those colours looked right now I didn't particularly care....

Inspirational Quote of The Week

The new weekly segment on my blog featuring a new and uplifting inspirational quote for the week. This weeks:

"The power of love is the love of power"

                                                                                    - The Man From Mars

Chapter 3 of 'The Silly Boys - Une Livre Extraordinaire'

The third chapter to my debut book and in my opinion the best third chapter of a book I've ever written

Chapter 3 - Clingy Gangles

We watched as Clingy Gangles crested the hill and made his way over to us
"Fuckin' Gangles" Georgie muttered under his breath, kicking a large stone which was followed by a loud yelp and Georgie hopping around on one foot cursing his bad luck
"Oh shut the fuck up Georgie, you know as much as we do that we all love Clingy Gangles" I said running a hand through my hair, fixing it a little "I mean he is the most talented member of your band after all"
""What the fuck are you talking about Jose" Barry spat in my direction "If anything, I'm the best member of that band. Why, without me, those guys would be like a captainless ship drifting around the ocean, directionless and ...."
Barry was quietened with a swift kick from a now recovered Georgie
"I'm the best member of The Bookleys and that's that" He declared, cartwheeling his arms in the air for whatever reason he had, we had stopped asking him for reasons after he walked around the town in a crouch all day citing CIA agents following him as the reason, we decided from then on that we wouldn't ask him questions about his actions unless it affected us directly
"Whatever, I just hope he that twenty quid I lent him last week, he said he'd pay me back when he got the dole this week" Barry said dodging one of Georgie's flailing arms
"You lent him a twenty! When I asked you for a few euro the other day you laughed in my face and continued fanning yourself with some fivers. You son of a bitch" Georgie exclaimed
He had stopped cartwheeling his arms now and was pretending to karate chop one of the trees, making loud grunts and exclamations every time he pretended to land a hit. We didn't even need to ask him about that one, he had taken one class of karate three weeks ago and now assumed that he was a karate master
"Will you cut that out Georgie, Clingy is almost here" I said
"I need to train my delts and tris every day" He declared loudly, refusing to look over at us "My sensei said to do it every day"
"Your sensei?" Barry laughed "I'm pretty sure that guy was the homeless guy who used to hang out in front of my house, I think he managed to get cleaned up and conned a guy out of a hundred quid for a karate lesson.... oh wait, that was you"
"No it wasn't, my sensei was trained by a tiger in the mystical arts of karate deep in the Amazon jungle"
He had no started kicking the tree, his leg barely rising high enough to reach his waist
"Do you even listen to what you say sometimes Georgie! I mean seriously, a lot of what you say is retarded and the rest of it is moronic"
"Seriously dude, you sound almost as stupid as Crudley"
Georgie stopped suddenly and ran over to pin Barry against the tree
"Take that back or I'll use the secret death touch on you that sensei Miyagi taught mein training!"
"Sensei Miyagi!" I was almost crying wiht laughter "As in Mr. Miyagi from The KArate Kid movie. Georgie, you sir have been well and truly duped"
Georgie let go of Barry and stalked over to sit down by himself in a bit of a sulk, his bottom lip trembling on the verge of another crying jag
He seemed to be sulking a lot more of late and I thought I should really aski him about that, instead I just tossed a stone at him and laughed as it hit him squarely on the forehead.
I looked over to see Clingy had finally arrived over to us, a tall gangly ginger fop, bedecked in a nice new waistcoat over a disgustingly dirty t-shirt and trousers that were basically falling off, that man, I was pretty sure, was wearing his clothes until they eventually fell off and he had to buy a new pair of whatever just fell off and from the looks of him it was his teeth next. I barked a laugh and looked over at Barry to share the joke but Barry only had eyes for Gangles, and not the good eyes either, the 'I'm going to murder that guy if he doesn't pay me back my money' kinda eyes. Before I could even say hello Barry was haranguing him over the money
"Gangles! Have you got the money I lent you last week!"
"Sorry Barry, a wakka lakka lakka! I had to give it all to me mum, she beat me at cards last night, a wakka lakka" he said in a British accent
"Wha'? Wha'? If you gave it all to your mum then how did you get that fancy new waistcoat?"
"This? I bought this just after I got the dole, a wakka lakka lakka!"
I could see the vein throbbing in Barry's forehead
"How much was it?"
"About twenty quid I suppose, a wakka lakka lakka"
I could see Barry was going into an apocalyptic rage, his face going red and the hackles on the back of his neck rising. I always meant to ask him how he managed to get hackles like that but never got round to it
I guess it was up to me to diffuse the situation
"I'm sure...."
Before I could say much more though Gangles got hit in the head by a small stone which was followed by a shout of
"You suck Gangles" from Georgies direction and a bark of a laugh
I turned to look over at Georgie, only to see him with a handful of stones ready to throw at Gangles
"Come on now Georgie, lets be civil here"
"Fuck you Jose, you stupid son of a bitch"
With that he tossed the handful of stones in our direction, luckily for us though, that guy had a terribly weak arm and most of the stones dropped short.
"Look guys, I came to find you so I could tell you about the new song I just wrote for the band, a wakka lakka lakka lakka lakka...."
We waited patiently as his 'wakka lakka's' subsided. Chatting amongst ourselves about the current state of the economy and how it could be saved. Eventually they subsided and we could finally find out about Gangles song
"It's called 'Post Lovin' Woman' and it's the greatest song ever"
"I bet it is. Come on then let's hear it" I said, looking forward to hearing the song from, in my opinion the most talented person from around these parts
Georgie snorted derisively to my side and muttered that I 'should stop being so gay for Gangles'
Barry didn't say anything as he was having some sort of rage fit to the side, sounds spluttering out from his mouth as he tried to regain control of his spasming body.
"Well lets hear it then" Georgie said
"Alright then" Gangles proceeded to warm his voice up with some notes on the scale except replacing the notes with 'a wakka lakka's'
Just as he was about to unleash, what I assumed would be musics next greatest hit, Barry recovered from his rage fit and launched himself at Gangles, wrestling him to the ground. After a few minutes Barry extricated himself from a tangled mass of Gangles lanky arms and legs grasping his prize, Gangle's waistcoat.
"If you're not going to pay me back my money then I'm just going to take this as payment instead"
He struggled to put the waistcoat on over his jacket, refusing, as a true Silly Boy to break rule numero uno, to take it off first. When he finally had it on, Georgie and I were in stitches while Gangles just looked on forlornly, accepting defeat
"Barry.." I managed to choke out between laughs "You look ridiculous bro, take the fucking thing off before people see you"
"Never, I'm a Silly Boy and Silly Boys do silly things" And with that he proceeded to strut about like a peacock, showing off his brand new waistcoat to us and I have to admit he pulled it off, he pulled it off with aplomb!
After a rapturous round of applause from Georgie and myself and, surprisingly enough considering the circumstances, Gangles himself, Barry retook his place looking quite smug and content with himself, preening a little after the all round good reaction to his new waistcoat
"Very good Barry, can I get my waistcoat back now please? A Wakka lakka lakka"
"Wha? Wha? You want MY waistcoat?"
"Well I did buy it, a wakka!"
"Get the hell out of here Gangles before I beat the crap out of you!"
"Oooooh noooo, a wakka lakka lakka!"
Gangles sprinted off into the distance with a loud and forlorn 'It were not bloody lovely'
"There goes the next John Lennon" I whispered to myself
"I'm the next John Lennon" Georgie screamed into my ear
"Fuck you Georgie, you're full of shit"

Scene 3 From My Screenplay 'Hot Fever'

This is scene three from my throwback to the 80's movie about one man's determination to get revenge for his murdered friend

Scene 3

Ext: A graveyard – Day. A group of mourners stand around a coffin being lowered into the ground while a priest says prayers. Camera pans out to Kurt Russell standing slightly back from everyone else by a tree, leaning against it with a beer in one hand. He’s obviously drunk and is muttering feverishly under his breath

Kurt Russell:

I’m… I’m gonna… gonna kill that son of *hic* son of a

He tosses the bottle angrily on the ground and gets violently sick beside the tree, his loud retching sounds interfering with the people’s mourning they al look towards him. He stands up wiping off his mouth, rubbing the sick into a beer stained jacket.

He stumbles over to the coffin and throws himself down on it, sobbing like a bitch

Kurt Russell:

NIALL!!! NIALL!!!

Mourner 1:

Who is this dick?

Mourner 2:

I don’t know. Look at me, look at this nice suit! Do I look like I know a drunk homeless guy?

Mourner 1:

I guess not, that is a nice suit by the way. Where’d you get it?

Mourner 2:

I got it in this nice little suit shop down on the corner of....

Kurt Russell gets up off the coffin and glares at the two guys

Kurt Russell:

Hey dick faces, this is a goddamn funeral, have some respect. Talking about suits while the greatest guy to have walked this earth goes six feet under. I ought to fuckin’ roundhouse youse guys right here and now

With a visible effort he tries to spin and kick mourner 1 who just steps back out of the way.

Mourner 1:

Come on now guy, we don't want any of that here. Noel certainly wouldn't have wanted it

Kurt Russell screms at the guy and rushes towards him

Kurt Russell:

His name was Niall! NIALL you goddamned son of a bitch

Kurt after two steps trips over some dirt and lays sprawled out on the ground

Mourner 2:

Noel, Niall! Who really cares. I only just came here so I could show off this nice suit I got

Mourner 3:

You too? I thought I was the only one who didn't really care about this Neil guy. I just thought that this would be a nice chance to wear my new three piece suit I just bought. I don't really have any friend so I thought I'd show it off at a random funeral

Mourner 2:

You don't have any friends? I don't have any friends! Why do you think I'm here? To show....

Mourner 1:

Off yor suit! Wow, it's like we're all only here because we wanted to show off something or other

A fourth person joins the group, a handsome woman who's fingering a beautiful diamond necklace

Mourner 4:

I too am a desperately lonely person. I just bought this necklace as a gift for myself (sighs) and needed tos how it off somewhere and I thought where better to find some desperately lonely people to show it off to then at a funeral of some woman I didn't know

Mourner 2:

Oh! It's actually a woman in there? Well nevermind, that is a beautiful necklace

At this point Kurt Russell has managed to get himself onto his feet and glares at everyone around him

Kurt Russell (shouting):

I’ll get you! I’ll get all of you! Just you see!

He makes his way to his car. He takes a quick piss against the door and gets in. He manages to start it up and drive away, the car veering erratically along the road. Mourners go back to extolling virtues of Mourner 2’s lovely suit and mourner 4's beautiful necklace

Mourner 2:

If only we weren't so desperately lonely. Will one of you guys be my friend?

Mourner 3:

Be friends with a lonely loser like you, bah!

Mourner 4:

You must be kidding!