Sept. 20: The Blue Collar Edition

September, huh? Enjoy that Labor Day, then. One day of freedom from the firm and inappropriate grasp of the Man. One day without the clock ticking away those seconds to Friday like little whip cracks in your ear. How's that hot dog taste now? Like despair? Try some horseradish.

Then try a little Speakeasy. On Sept. 20, we invite our writers to take on a subject that has it coming: Work. Follow the lead of that great labor organizer Johnny Paycheck, take that job and shove it ... right down the ear-holes of our overworked audience. Sex, violence, alien life? All those things are great inspiration for writing, but unless your name is William Shatner, you don't spend 40 hours a week plus overtime doing them. So let's get together at your favorite bar and mine and do what folks do at a bar: Bitch about our jobs. You probably shouldn't invite that hottie from human resources this month, though. Just a tip.

- Tod

Phoreshadowing phootnote: School in August, Work in September ... Well, I wonder what we've got lined up in October for Halloween? Hmm. Hmmmmm. Hm. Shrug.

I know what we've got planned in November, though.

Aug. 23: The A+ Edition

Sometimes it's great to be an adult. Especially that particular week in August, when the future leaders of our country pause in their masturbations, sigh, and drag their pimply knuckles out to the bus stop to absorb whatever droplets of wisdom their teachers can squeeze from the stone of the education budget.

Yes, it's back to school time - both for them and for us. For August, the writers of Speakeasy will be challenged to tell us what they learned in school. For those of us that are still there, this should be a cinch. (Your host can barely remember it, but he's not exempt.) So sharpen up those No. 2's, Poindexter. Give us your financial aid tragedies, your tales of classroom boners - hell, this would even be the time to break out your old high school journal. A blackboard will be provided that you may show your work. Or dick drawings.

And let's not forget: This month, Speakeasy is appropriately tardy. We'll be the fourth (NOT the third) Tuesday this time, owing to a music booking at Will's. Ah, getting bullied by shouty dudes with guitars. Takes me right back to 6th period.

- Tod

July 19: The Karaoke Edition

Let's face it, y'all: Spoken word people are frustrated singers. Not many of us grew up bouncing on our bed, lip-syncing Gil Scott-Heron or Maggie Estep (not enough of us, anyway). So here we are, years later, no roadies or groupies ... but at least they're listening to the words. Right?

But let's put on our big boy pants and acknowledge the inspiration, shall we? For July, we're doing what all great musicians have done since before Elvis: Stealin'. Specifically, we're stealin' J. Bradley's gimmick and doing poems and stories about a song. See, J's working on a book where each poem is based on an Afghan Whigs song and ... what? J. Who? Get over here and get to know him, then come back. Try and keep up, people. Jeez.

Anyway, easy theme, right? Pick a song. Write a little something about what it means to you, where you were when you first heard it. Re-arrange/riff on/fuck up the lyrics. Sound like fun? Get on over to Will's Pub on July 19 at 9 p.m. to taste our musical fruits. (Cue fart noise.)

June 21: The Housebroken Edition

Your host has never been a dog person. Or a cat person, or anything, really. I'm really more of an uncle about pets - I love other people's animals, and they seem to like me, but I've lived with enough roommate's critters to know they're an awfully expensive route to affection. Beats a strip club habit though, and at least they'll sleep with you afterward.

Still, animals can tell us a lot about ourselves. They're one of the few tangible examples of unconditional love (well, dogs are) and they're how a lot of people first learn about death (my first and only gerbil once crawled into my mini-billiards table and never came out, sob). And so it is that the theme for June is Pets. This is either going to be a particularly hilarious or heartbreaking Speakeasy; probably a little of both. You know how we do.

Bonus: For the second month in a row, we've got someone I think is going to be a mighty fine feature performer. Teacher and poet Robert Walker will be joining us for an extended set, riding high off the publication of "The Bouyancy of It All," his debut collection. His rockstar credentials are enhanced by the fact that he's bringing his brother along to back up his set on drums. Not bongos, you useless hippie. Real man-size drums. But hey, he already had us at "bouyancy." Need a little more convincing? Solid interview here with Walker, including some samples of his poetry.

So it's settled, then? 9 p.m.-ish this Tuesday, June 21? Splendid. We'll see you then.

- Tod

May 17: The Playtime Edition

This just in from our researchers at Speakeasy Institute: Winning is not actually everything. Matter is composed of bajillions of tiny objects flying around, frequently bumping into bigger objects and exploding, or "losing," thereby delivering energy to the universe. Losers are filling the hungry bellies of winners in the jungles, or sinking into the earth to to be squeezed into the oil we need to more effectively operate our winning machines.

Long story short: Games are important, and that's why games are the subject of our Speakeasy for May. From Rock-paper-scissors to Call of Duty, Marco Polo to that thing we do where we pretend not to sell weapons to bad guys, everybody plays. Poets and writers are invited to sign up for the open mike and give their take on games and gamers of every rank and flavor. Level up on May 17 at Will's Pub (where else?) around 9 p.m. Free as usual.

Bonus plugs! Your harried host will be reading his short stories at the first ever edition of There Will Be Words on May 10 at Urban ReThink. And - 24 hours after this month's Speakeasy - it's the kickoff of the Orlando Fringe Festival, featuring Tod's Poetry Smackdown and a special edition of the Toast-Off on the outdoor stage. And be sure to drop by the Poetry Vending Machine, where plenty of Speakeasy regulars will be marinating in beer throughout the Festival.

April 19: The Unnatural Edition

Holy crap, do we have a lot of people to thank for this past Speakeasy. Great crowd and consistently solid readers, not least of which were our last-minute guests from Burrow Press. Special thanks to Ryan Rivas, Jana Waring and Gene Albamonte for dropping by. We'll be seeing them again, with any luck. Little taste of what you missed? Head over to Jana's blog for the full text of Gene's offering for The Divine Edition.

Bit of a long breather between Speakeasies this time, owing to an early week for March. Plenty of time for you to tackle the theme for April, then: Man vs. Nature. Thanks to Arnie Ellis and Curtis Meyer for this one, in which we turn for inspiration to that mother of all mothers ... Gaia. Like most moms, she has her hot flashes, occasionally smothers us and has an amaaaazing rack.

No, wait. That's your Mom. Anyway. Earth week or no earth week, April 19 is the day to show that bitch what's up. Writers are challenged to address the theme of conflict against the natural world. What animal would you most like to fight? What fast-food franchise would best serve the rainforest? You get the idea. And to really rub it in, you should go ahead and write your piece on a dead tree.

April 19! 9:30! Will's Pub, where else?

-Tod

The Divine Edition

Good Lord, it's been a long time between updates. And speaking of the Lord ... Speakeasy comes at you a week early this month with The Divine Edition. March 8, the monthly theme is religion. Why? Hey, the last few themes (sex, murder) have been something everybody can agree on. Let's get something in there that might start a war or two, shall we?

In the meantime (or post-time, in case I end up sleeping on this blog for another month), feel free to send in any pics from Speakeasies past, or even poems and stories if you don't mind throwing them out there. I'll post 'em up and we can all see how they look in the cold light of morning.

Keep on,
Tod