LETTER for Aimee I

Aimee, du är den vackraste kvinnan i hela världen. Om jag inte var en homosexuell man jag vill suga allt blod direkt ur dig.

Beautiful Aimee,

I want you to know that I am in a loving relationship with a very attractive man, we have been together for many years and are deeply in love. However, I would give it all up for you. You are the most captivating woman I have ever known. You are my waterfall. You may not know this but when you are watching me on television I can see you. It's very distracting because you are so beautiful. I try to focus on my scenes but I look out and see you sitting there on your couch in those jammies, eating those gluten free brownies and staring back at me. It's more than I can take. You must be mine.

The truth is, I am honestly a vampire. I don't just play one on television. And I know that might be awkward for you, although it's my understanding that you have dated more than one soul sucking demon in the past. But Aimee, if I can work past being gay for you, surely you can overlook this one teeny insignificant detail for me?

So what if you wake up in the middle of the night and I'm nibbling off your toes? So what if you get a bloody nose and it causes me to start chewing on your face? These are the things we do for love min älskling.

So here is my plan. Once I wrap shooting on this season of True Blood I will take the first flight into Chicago where I will float up on your balcony and passionately kiss you. Then, maybe you could make me a sandwich. I like ham on rye. Then we will passionately embrace throughout the night under the stars, but if that is too much for you I'm happy to sleep on the air mattress. I think the next day we shall walk hand in hand by the lake, then perhaps take in a Cubs game? I will buy you a hot dog for lunch (I myself will dine on rickshaw driver du jour) and then we can go back to your apartment to swim in the moonlight in your rooftop pool. And watch Lost.

After that you will travel back with me to Sweden where we will marry in a traditionella svenska bröllop where you will make a beautiful bride.

Oh my beautiful red blooded darling, we will be so happy together, unless I accidentally eat you, which I PROMISE to try very hard not to do. Perhaps each day you could prick your finger and give me one drop, and in return, I promise to do handiwork with my shirt off as often as possible.

Your Lover,

Aleksander

POEM for Brigitte D.

Floating in a sea of butter
Brigitte and Paula Deen
Life could not get much better
As they eat fried, never green

In their canoe made of bacon
Under stars made of cake
Paula's heart starts to achin'
For something that's baked

"How 'bout some pie?"
Our Brigitte suggests
Says Paula, "I'll eat the whole sky,
And all of the rest."

LETTER for Jon R.

Dear Jon,

I'm sorry it's taken me so long to get this letter to you, I've been swamped reading scripts and shopping for Oscar dresses. Then suddenly I realized, it's not 1993 anymore...I don't need to do either.

What happened to me, Jon? I used to be someone. I wasn't a diva, I was easy to work with, so why did I get cast aside by the cold hands of Hollywood? Do you know that I did all my own stunts? I loved the adventure of forcing myself to levitate in "Beetlejuice" and although I did suffer a few bruises and a concussion, the thrill of flying off that mountain in "Thelma and Louise" is something I would never trade. Unlike Hollywood, who traded me in for the likes of waspier wispier girls with names like Gwyneth and Angelina. Which is why, I've made some key decisions.

I've been living in a cabin in northern Canada for the last few years. I first used it as a retreat when I realized Sandra Bullock was edging me out for all my roles (The "Speed" series should have been mine!). I lived for many years as a recluse, surviving mainly on small woodland animals I caught with my bare hands and muttering lines from "Earth Girls Are Easy" until I found my old archery set. I practiced 24 hours a day, Jon. Fat lot of good it did. Would I have been an excellent addition to the Sydney Olympics? Yes. Was I asked to go? No. The Olympics, humph, they don't need a torch they need a hillside with the word "Olympics" in signature white letters...they're no different than Hollywood. Those actors and archers will chew you up and spit you out. Oh, um, anyway, so I've been living in my cabin and after not making the Olympic team, I started developing my patented 3 step plan to return to Hollywood and take the movie industry by storm. I would love to know that I can count on the support of fans like you, Jon. Here it is.

1. I'm going to pitch a television show idea to the execs called "Geena & Irena". It will be about me, trying to make it as a single mother of two young kids by day, then at night living my alternate life as Irena...pop icon. I will play both roles. When I'm Geena I will just look like myself, but when I'm Irena I will have a blonde wig with bangs and sporty pink leather jackets. I really think this could work. The songs I sing as pop princess Irena would go on to be hit singles and I could actually perform concerts. Too add some drama, Geena would be your everyday American girl, whereas Irena would speak exclusively in Russian.

2. I will reunite the cast of "A League of Their Own" and all those lesser stars like Madonna, Rosie O'Donnell and Tom Hanks can ride off of my "Geena and Irena" fame as we create a sequel entitled, "Fatigue of the Bone" (it will be about aging and perseverance). In this climactic thriller all of the ladies who are currently receiving assistance in a nursing facility will be asked to play one last game. I will play the part of the young and ambitious nurse at the nursing home (a great granddaughter of my original character) who rallies the team together for the game of their lives while unknowingly falling in love with the new team owner, Clooney.

3. My last idea is a little radical, but I think it could work. I have been rehearsing a number of one woman shows and feel they are ready to be presented. I thought as opposed to the usual extended "This is my life" monologue I would simply do one woman versions of already respected plays, because that puts me one foot in the door, you know? Think of the billing, "Geena Davis does The Importance of Being Earnest by Oscar Wilde" "Geena Davis does Death of a Salesman by Arthur Miller" "Geena Davis as Blanche Dubois AND Stanley Kowalski in A Streetcar Named Desire by Tennessee Williams". It's gold. Oh sure I know what you are thinking, there's not much of a theatre scene in LA, that's why I would have to perform these on Broadway, to be seen. To be eased back into the public eye. This is where I need your help, I know you have access to a lot of people in the Chicago theatre scene. If I could get a reading, even at the smallest stage, just for one night...I know the NYC producers would come and pick it up after one show! Can you help me? Jon? Please? Because I'm a brilliant actress, and I deserve my fame back, and I'm currently wearing a bucket full of arrows on my back. You don't want to mess with a former celebrity with perfect aim my friend. Have you noticed an up in the number of celebrity deaths lately? The media says "overdose" but I say "bulls-eye".

I've enclosed for you a signed headshot and a bracelet I made out of beaver teeth while camping down by the old creek on a spear fishing trip last year. Please enjoy them. And please put the word out to Chicago theatres you think might be interested in producing my new hit show.

And remember, Jon, you might not think I'm there. You might not think I care. But Geena Davis is always watching you.

Best,
Geena Davis

HAIKU for Brigitte D.

Bump scratch rattle squish

Do you smell something funny?

Goodnight, Sweet raccoon

PLAY for Kristen D.

“Time For Bed, Grandpa”

Characters: Kristen Doss (A Lady)
Wrigley Doss (A Beagle)
A Mysterious Visitor

(Lights up on a living room. Kristen is watching TV. Wrigley is reading “USA TODAY” and smoking a pipe.)

KRISTEN: Do you want to go outside?

WRIGLEY: Sorry, what was that?

KRISTEN: Outside?

WRIGLEY: Ah, I thought you said, “eat pies”.

KRISTEN: Let’s go outside.

WRIGLEY: Or you know, we COULD eat pies…I wouldn’t be opposed to it. Not that I don’t absolutely love eating the exact same meal twice a day…everyday.

KRISTEN: Want a treat?

WRIGLEY: I don’t know, is it a steak?

(Kristen holds a dog treat over Wrigley’s head.)

KRISTEN: Who wants a treat?

WRIGLEY: Yeah, sure. I’ll take it. But you know, when I was young I heard stories about dogs who were fed table scraps, right there under the table. Doesn’t that sound great? Waste not want not right? Eh, who am I kidding? With this acid reflux I don’t stand a chance.

KRISTEN: Come on, Wrigs..outside.

WRIGLEY: Listen, I think I’m just going to pack it in for the night. I had a long day …

(Wrigley starts to walk offstage.)

KRISTEN: Wrigley, are you planning to eat the trash?

WRIGLEY: Sorry, didn’t hear you. Anyway, have a good night, my dear.

(There is a loud crash outside the door.)

KRISTEN: What was that?

WRIGLEY: Probably one of those damn kids from the neighborhood. I’ll go tell them to get the hell off our lawn. (Mumbling) Damn kids always playing around with their damn toys…

(Another crash)

KRISTEN: Wrigley! I’m scared!

WRIGLEY: It’s ok. You stand back, I’ll handle this!

(Wrigley tries to howl, clears his throat, tries again.)

KRISTEN: You can do it, Wrigs!

(Kristen starts to sing “Wrigley-Ooooh”)

WRIGLEY: Arf! Arf! AROOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

(From the other side of the door there is a soft whimper. Wrigley moves slowly to the door and opens it. Buddy the Pomeranian is sitting on a pile of Louis Vuitton luggage.)

BUDDY: Hi!!! I’m Buddy!!

KRISTEN: Buddy! You scared us!

BUDDY: Sorry, I had to drag my luggage up the stairs myself, it wasn’t easy! I’m so happy to be here! I’m so happy to see you! Happy! Happy! Woo! Buddy!

WRIGLEY: This is too much excitement for one night, I need to watch my Andy Rooney and hit the hay.

KRISTEN: No, we’re all going outside. Wrigley leash!

WRIGLEY: Quiche?

KRISTEN: Let’s put your leash on Wrigs!

WRIGLEY: What was that? Let’s eat some deep fried pigs?

BUDDY: I can’t wait to go outside! And then I’m so excited to come back inside!

(Buddy runs outside.)

KRISTEN: He’s cute, but you’re still my favorite, Baby.

WRIGLEY: Back ‘atcha kid.

(Kristen gives Wrigley a hug.)

WRIGLEY: Sooo..how ‘bout a pizza?

(Blackout)

LETTER for Kristen D.

Dear Kristen,

I wanted to take a moment from my morning routine (treadmill, dying my eyebrows, a healthy breakfast, practicing my “lady walk”, watching the morning news, tucking) to thank you for being such a fan over the years. Your support has meant so much to me, and while so many celebrities have millions of fair-weather fans, I enjoy having just the one…because I know you are unwavering and loyal. It may seem like “Dirty Dancing” is all about the love story between Johnny and Baby, but I know you recognize the far more subtle and nuanced drama unfolding in Lisa Houseman’s world. The 1960’s were a challenging and exciting time for young people like Baby, who wanted to change the world, and Penny, who had to make the toughest decision for herself, and Johnny, trying to be more than society thought he was capable of being. But let me tell you, times weren’t easy for a character like Lisa either. To be a young, talented tranny in such a segregated society was the most difficult challenge of all. The way Lisa embraced this challenge with coral shoes, gumption and beige iridescent lipstick was more than any “real” lady could have done at the time.
My acting career has been rocky to say the least these past two decades. I am continually called in for auditions, I put on my prettiest dresses and my best wigs only to discover that once again through some error I have been called in to read for “the father” or “the butler”. I complain to my agent and he merely looks at me with surprise and says, “Well what do you expect, John?” and I simply respond, “It’s Jane.”
I know that you are mostly a fan of my work in Dirty Dancing, for which I am still reeling over not being recognized by the Academy (put on a fake nose like Nicole Kidman and it’s in the bag, but having your adams apple removed apparently is worth nothing to those bastards) but I hope that you have also taken the time to enjoy some of my later work such as “DishDogz”, “Patients are a Virtue” and “Crime Story”.
Kristen, you are not just a fan, but a true friend. I wish I could walk hand in man-hand with you and explain just how much your loyalty means to me and everyone in the STG (Screen Trannys Guild ™ ). To quickly answer your questions: Yes, I did all my own choreography for the “Hawaiian Number”, Yes, I did actually have an off screen romance with Jerry Orbach (He had a few secrets of his own under those short-sleeved button downs), and Yes, I was able to dirty dance only briefly one time with Patrick Swayze. I had to coerce him into it with shots of Bacardi 151 and a mild horse tranquilizer, despite his difficulty standing he was still the most marvelous dance partner I’ve had to date.
I am sending you an autographed headshot, an “I Feel Pretty” coffee mug, and the complete hour and fifteen minute DVD of all my acting work in the last 23 years. I must run, it’s 5:00 and there’s an ominous shadow looming, if you know what I mean.

Still Decorating the World,
Jane Brucker
Aka “Lisa Houseman”

LIMERICK for Kristen D.

There once was a gal named Dossie

Whose hair was shiny and glossy

And when fish and chips

Would pass through her lips

Her teeth she would then need to flossie

HAIKU for Kristen D.

Let's put down the top

Then tie long scarves in our hair

And get our flow on

HAIKU for Lisa Marie C.

Sometimes you are blonde

But most times you have dark hair

Hippopotamus

HAIKU for Jodi Gottberg

Her car is silver

She forgot to feed Baxter

Meow, Man, Meow

How This Works

I am currently in the level 3 sketch comedy writing class at Second City, Chicago. It's a class I love and totally can't afford. I really want to continue my education at the Training Center because God forbid in this society, in this economy, we lose one single writer. Writers string words together and spend actual time debating whether to use a comma or elipses...decisions that change the world. Shouldn't this be rewarded with respect and cash? Yes. It should.

So here's how it works. Much like the buskers you see in the El stations who stare you down pleadingly while blowing their hearts out playing jingle bells on a saxophone in an endless loop until you give them a dollar...I'm busking online.

Step 1: Choose what you want me to write.
Step 2: Pay for it.
Step 3: Send me an email and tell me how you want it personalized.
Step 4: See your personalized writing on the blog and do a little dance.

The benefits for me are that I get to write more and I get to stay enrolled in my classes. I don't promise that any of this writing will be good, but I promise that I will appreciate it.

Here's what you can buy, or, makes a great gift!

$2 - A beautiful and moving haiku about you.
$5 - A four line ode or a limerick about you. (Donate ten dollars and get one of each!)
$15 - A letter from someone you admire, dead or alive. Historical figures, celebrities, anyone. If I don't know who it is, I will research. (AKA, look them up on Wikipedia and then wing it.)
$20 - A 300 word short story with you as the main character. You get to select 3 words to be included.
$30 - A two page scene starring you and the talking animal of your choice.
$50 - Combo Platter! Get one of everything! (You would have to be ridiculous to donate this much money, there are charities and starving people in this world for Gods sake.)

Here we go!