Monday, January 24, 2011

Dainty Cadaver Mad Libs-Style Blog Thing: Matt Freeman

Matt Freeman has put onstage a man in a lobster suit in deep dialogue with a rabbi, and for that I am forever grateful. He’s also written a number of other significantly interesting and interestingly significant plays (including Glee Club, which premiered at The Brick’s Antidepressant Festival), and he’s a noted, notable and notorious blogger. As the right arm of the playwriting Voltron that is Team B, he aids the Dainty Cadaver in its mission to crush all other exquisite-corpse-style playwriting projects that threaten the sanctity of our forest planet.


If I could rewrite the ending to any movie it would be Steven Speilberg’s A.I because the Ben Kingsley voiceover made me want to throw shit at the screen.

No one’s gonna stop me from dancing in my underwear when I’m alone.

When I first read the Dainty Cadaver scene that came before mine, my initial reaction was I look forward to punching the author in the face. Then, I thought, “Wow, that’s probably an overreaction.” Finally, I wrote something anyway.

The song I listened to most/had in my head while writing my scene was “Seasons of Love,” and I hate that song.

As Abraham Lincoln said, “The world will little note, nor long remember what we say here, but it can never forget the churlish amoeba.”

Before I had Piper McKenzie in my life, I was a hollow shell of a human being. Now I’m more hollow than ever.

The superpower I would least want to have would probably be the ability to go blind.

Out, out, brief candle! / Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player, / That suckles / brandy / titties. It is a tale / Told by an idiot, full of cloverleaf mudpies / Signifying the beginning of the war.

The first play I ever wrote was for a fifth grade class. After that I didn’t quit, for some reason.

If I were to finish this sentence it would be an excellent sentence.

Writing for the Dainty Cadaver in this manner worked against my usual process by forcing me to share, which is the opposite of the reason I write.

If I didn’t write plays or do things like Dainty Cadavers I’d probably be rich.

[Expletive] and [Unprintable] and [Censored]: that’s what little girls are made of.

I think the Internet does not affect the ways we make theater in that it is still just a bunch of words and pictures and c’mon, let’s be real.

The jumble of random nouns, verbs, adjectives and adverbs I would use to describe my Dainty Cadaver experience includes the following: a chaotic, weirdly sad, compromise.

When walking down the lane, Charles Ludlum picked up a bucket of buckshot along the way. It overflowed, and Charles had to use it.

In the beginning God created nothing.

I couldn’t live without beer, but the part of it I could live without is farting.

Have you ever noticed that rabbits are always like Let’s kick it,” while Bears are always like “What gives, Rabbit?What’s the deal?

Snabfllp nibminimmbinmtt falalaboocheray toddlesmick Slartibartfast abbib simblantfermay pobbadooblemirph.

No comments:

Post a Comment