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Monologue Genie
Monologues for women and men posted bimonthly!
Monologues for women and men posted bimonthly!


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One minute monologues for audition and competition. Includes one minute versions of "I Ate the Divorce Papers", "It's Terrible Being Nice", "Yoga Fart" and more for women. Plus "The Fact Checker", "The Puppy Room", and "The Lazy Boy" for men.

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Great performance of "It's Terrible Being Nice"
(Source text:…)

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Great performance of "12 Years Wise" featured on Monologue Genie at, published in "Best Contemporary Monologues for Kids Ages 12-15"…/…/1495011771

Watch the performance from Broadway Artists Alliance Summer Session 2015:

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Studying statistics ... sort of. Procrastination in the form of a statistically inspired monologue:

"Bell Shaped Me"
I LOVE statistics and brownies. Because statistics help me eat brownies guilt free. In statistics, the average of any population is represented by a bell shaped curve. Which makes my bell shaped body average. I always thought I was overweight. Until I took statistics! Statistically, I’m of average weight. That is to say, if the bell shaped body is the average american body, then I’m of average american weight. Those pompous thin fuckers are the OUTLIERS. They’re the weird ones, I’m the NORMAL one! The bell shaped curve in statistics is called a NORMAL distribution. That makes the fat on my body normally distributed!!! The images we see in magazines are a lie! Those people are freaks! Their skinny asses are hanging on the tails of the bell curve. But those statistically marginal buttheads have the nerve to call me overweight? Truth be told, they are statistically underweight! So yeah, I love statistics and brownies. Want a bite?


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Wife Alert!

Alarms no I don't use alarms. I find waking up beside my wife alarming enough. No I love my wife, I do, I do.

It's just she cannot sleep in. So I don't need an alarm, because I have this Wife Alert in bed. If it's the crack of dawn, she's alert.
It's like a genetic family trait. Like if they analyzed her DNA they'd see she's part rooster.

And I need my sleep. I love my sleep. And on the weekends and holidays I want to sleep in but instead I have this Wife Alert blaring "Coffee, coffee, time to make the coffee."

And it's like she's jealous of sleep, like she looks at me if I sleep in, like sleep is another woman. Like "oh so you'd rather be with sleep than me." She's almost mad, like she's caught me sleeping with sleep.

So we're in couples counseling, and she's like "he's sleeping on me, just constantly. In the middle of the day, he'll sneak into the study for a quickie." A quickie, that's her word for a nap.

But c'mon a nap is not the same as sleeping. If it's under an hour it's not sleeping!


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Monologue for men ... tired men ... "Sleeping ... with Sleep"
I really appreciate what you’re doing here. I know you thought we were going to hang out but … Is that a feather top bed you got up there? Really! I hope we can make this a regular thing.
See … I used to dream of marrying Mary Anne. Now, that I got her I just dream of sleep. Oh to be unattached and just sleep, sleep, sleep … sleep until the sun pours into the window and slowly brings in the day. The last time I rose AFTER the sun did, I was single. I love my wife, I do. But I also love sleep.
Calling Mary Anne an early riser is an understatement. Before dawn breaks, she awakes. Its a genetic family trait. Like if they analyzed her DNA, it’d show she’s part rooster. We have no alarm, just her. Within seconds of consciousness Mary Anne blares “Coffee, coffee, time to make the coffee." I pat her on the head, AKA snooze button and plead “Five more minutes honey, Please just five more minutes.”
You know those super disciplined people who never cheat on their diets with like a snack or ice cream? That's Mary Anne but for sleep. She's basically on a perpetual sleep diet. She sees napping as cheating.
Sometimes I pretend I have work to do in the garage and I just lay under the car with my tools and let sweet sleep take me. Then she comes in, finds me asleep and starts to cry. Like sleep is another woman. Like she’s caught me sleeping with sleep.
She pits herself against sleep, she says “You’d rather be with sleep than me?” I make the mistake of answering: “yes!” Boom, we’re in couples counseling. She tells the therapist "he's sleeping on me, just constantly. In the middle of the day, he'll sneak into the garage for a quickie." A quickie, that's her word for a nap.
And this therapist, she sides with Mary Anne. She tells me that some men sleep to avoid working on the problems in the marriage. And I’m like, first of all, let’s not call it sleeping. If its under an hour and it's under a car its not sleeping. Second, the only problem in the marriage is I'm exhausted. And she's like "Well, why do you think that is?" And I'm like "Because I need to go to bed!" And she tells me to look deeper than that, to look within myself. So I close my eyes to try and look within myself and I start nodding off. And my wife says "See what I'm dealing with." And the therapist is like nodding, "Uh huh, uh huh."
So anyway … that’s the deal. So thanks for letting me come over to “watch the game” man. So the bedroom’s just up the stairs to the left? Awesome. Let me know who wins.

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What the classics had to say about ripping one in Yoga ...

“Fartlet, Act 3, Scene 1:
To toot or not to toot? That is the question. Whether ‘tis nobler in the studio to suffer the twists and bends of a Yoga practice, 
Or to break hot wind amongst a sea of Yogis
To let one rip, to clench no more
And by unclench, we say to free the fizzler and the thousand natural gases that flesh is heir to. 
‘Tis a consummation, devoutly to be wished."

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Juliet Wolak! Nice delivery of "I Ate the Divorce Papers." 
Awesome production values too.

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