“New Girl” Playground

Would you like to see a bit more about the writing process? I wrote for an episode of “New Girl”, not professionally, rather academically.

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The first step is the treatment. You can get a glimpse into that by viewing the Word document: NEW GIRL treatment.

With the treatment out of the way, it was time to write the first act. You will notice that many things changed from treatment to script.

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You can view the PDF version of the first act right here —>  “Advice” (A “New Girl” Script)

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Like Satire? Here’s an Opportunity to Fund it!


I have turned to Kickstarter, for a crowd-funding project that would lead to the broom review of this century. I know what a broom review needs! A broom review requires a fun attitude, mixed with honesty and integrity, as well as a host of brooms ripe for testing. Help make this dream a reality. All contributors will be formally acknowledged as contributors to this in-depth look at American brooms. The most financially supportive will receive special treatment. Damn, this sounds familiar. Oh, yeah. It must be that whole living America thing! It’s like campaign contributions,  but without any personal-gain incentives.

Either way, there’s a damn good chance that this is a worthwhile cause. Who wouldn’t spend $5 to save themselves from years of multiple, “shoddy” broom purchases? I’ve done extremely light research on contribution demographics. My passable studies have led to some astounding revelations. Supposed Fact: 100% of ISIS members do not support my campaign. So, who on Earth wouldn’t spend $5 on my campaign? ISIS. Be different… fuck, is that line taken? Okay, then. Just don’t be ISIS. There. Now, let’s make some fun!

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They All Go

Sometimes, when people meet, no matter what label you apply, it is an equivocally fateful introduction. In a hospital waiting room amidst the beeps of machines and the quick discourses between doctors, an old man weeps over recent bad news. The doctor says she won’t make it through the night, however Benny knows she is going as they speak. Benny knew, when he met her, how and when and where she would die. He also knew the doctor would die of lung cancer in fifteen years, but no sense cueing him in, he thought. He’s a doctor and he knows the facts, and that closet addiction would catch up someday. And, as always, Benny was correct. The doctor’s pager lit up, he glanced, excused himself hurriedly, and scurried through the swinging doors. Benny laid his head in his hands and wept. The doctors would try to revive her, but it was 11 minutes past midnight, and Benny had been here before. But, this time there was one small variant. On this day a young boy approached and asked him a very precise question, “How old was Wendy?” (more…)

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Toe Letter

To Whom It May Concern:

Dude! Totally not paying the amount you are asking for the work on my toe. My toe is still messed up. I will gladly and gratefully reimburse you for work done to a fixed toe. For now, my toe is not a toe. It is all unnaturally straight and it doesn’t move right. That isn’t cool at all. I mean, sure it is straight now, and it was crooked when I arrived. However, I came to your offices to repair my toe, and you simply straightened it. Do you know what happens when you straighten a slinky? I’ll tell you what happens. It isn’t fun anymore. Should I pay for the work done to one of my southern digits, I require full recovery. I am requesting toe rehab. Until my toe does that thing where it scrunches up, I refuse payment. The amount you request is too high for the shoddy toe repair that I received. Fix my toe, and then I will pay you the money stuff you asked for. Good day!


Heath Louis Goetsch

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My first memory of my mother was of her hitting my father over the head with an empty bottle of Grey Goose vodka. He was yelling, “Stop it, Jackie! Think about the kids.” But she just kept hitting and hitting until he eventually collapsed onto the kitchen floor. I would later learn that she was really drunk, but at that age I didn’t know of that sort of thing, so I just thought she hated my dad.

In kindergarten, I was asked what I wanted to be when I grew up. I told the teacher that I wanted to be a bartender, so that I could see my mom more. (more…)

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Thoughts on Adulthood

In the end, we will all watch ourselves fail- over and over; and between those times we may see something in the mirror that resembles what we expected of ourselves, but our adult lives will forever be addled by our childhood expectations and the realities of the world that we live in.

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The Search Party

10 A.M.

Turkish sits in his pod. It doesn’t give him much room to move around. Everyone lives in these; or almost everyone. What’s important is that Turkish Fox was one of the somebodies looped in with everybodies, now. He wasn’t always this way. He used to have a big house. He had an exciting job, albeit an illegal one. He loved the countryside. As he sit in his high-tech “pod”, he contemplates. It’s not much larger than a prison cell, he compares. He remembers the mountains and the way animals moved about among us. He recalls watching them survive and prey, in younger years, on his grandfather’s farm. He has visions of the rolling hills and the grasses that sway as slight breezes abrupt them. All of these beautiful memories have become part of a distant past; and while Turkish would rather repose and revel in these pieces of new history, he must report to work- to sort mail. (more…)

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