Reality Bites Monologues

A documentary filmmaker and her fellow Generation X graduates face life after college, looking for work and love in Houston.

Honey, all you have to be by the time you're 23 is yourself.

I do. And we all love her. I love her. She breaks my heart again and again, but I love her.

There's no point to any of this. It's all just a... a random lottery of meaningless tragedy and a series of near escapes. So I take pleasure in the details. You know... a Quarter-Pounder with cheese, those are good, the sky about ten minutes before it starts to rain, the moment where your laughter become a cackle... and I, I sit back and I smoke my Camel Straights and I ride my own melt.

At the beep, please leave your name, number, and a brief justification for the ontological necessity of modern man's existential dilemma, and we'll get back to you

It's when the actual meaning is the complete opposite from the literal meaning.

There's no secret handshake. There's an IQ prerequisite, but there's no secret handshake.

Hello, you've reached the winter of our discontent.

I am not under any orders to make the world a better place.

Well, 'cause Mr. Brady died of AIDS. Things don't turn out like that.

You can't navigate me. I may do mean things, and I may hurt you, and I may run away without your permission, and you may hate me forever, and I know that scares the living shit outta you 'cause you know I'm the only real thing you got.

I've wanted you like this for all these years.

Well fuck me for being nice!

He's the reason Cliffs Notes were invented.

I'm picking up some very strange vibes. They're of the I-just-got-laid variety.

Did he dazzle you with his extensive knowledge of mineral water, or was it his in-depth analysis of, uh, uh, Marky Mark that finally reeled you in?

I'm bursting with fruit flavor.

I was told there'd be no math on this exam.

This girl is cuckoo for Cocoa Puffs.