Recommended by John Busser

A well-deserved winner of the Sam French OOB, Jillian Blevins manages to not only make us laugh, but teaches us something we'd all do well to remember about our own sense of self worth. Doxy and Wilkin make a great comedy team in the best sense. Wilkin's straight man (even if he physically can't be one) perfectly complements Doxy's "Devil-May-Care" foil who isn't about to let a thing like waking up in a pillory ruin her day. But I just hope she hasn't started a public trend for squeezing cheese.

Oh that is scathingly funny, especially that last line. And how well this hits home. Not MY home specifically, but I know so many people on that other side of the political fence from my own (I am a Democrat and ally), and this monologue shines a dark light on those who present to you one way, while condemning in other ways. This is smart stuff, but then, it's from Scott Sickles, a master of blistering satire.

HAHAHAHAHA!. I literally said, "Oh God!" when I reached that second last line on the first page and laughed out loud. Like another recommendation for this from fellow playwright Morey Norkin, I'm envious of the fact that I didn't think of this. Jacquie Floyd has written a winner one minute.

We're all just trying to get through our experiences sometimes, aren't we? And divorce is one of the worst. Darrin Friedman shows us this with Nancy, a woman blindsided and discarded by her ex-partner. This monologue lays it all out, the frustration, the recrimination, the regret, the shame, it's all there. In one short monologue, we learn so much about Nancy and ourselves. After all, who hasn't been rejected by someone we cared about at one point or another? A terrific monologue for any actress.

Well, this hit a little harder than I thought it would. I have recently had a bit of personal experience along these lines, so I can see how Tim would want this for John. Our need for sharing stories is so ingrained in our psyche. We tell jokes, we pass on anecdotes, we share and borrow books, movies, etc. Philip Middleton Williams creates a warm, nostalgic feel to these characters and truly makes us want to participate in that experience with them. A wonderfully evocative play.

Jonathan Rand certainly has his finger on the pulse of the typical local news broadcast with their "everything-plus-the-kitchen-sink" approach to the news. The machine gun pace of the piece definitely works in it's favor and would be a hoot to see staged with rapid-fire delivery from the actors. And with everyone's reduced attention spans, this is a PERFECT comic gem to put out there. Funny stuff.

This is a case where if you take this play, you won't leave it. Jacquie is always adept at bringing warmth and soul to her characters, and it's easy to see here. There is charm and humor in abundance (Old man Art bringing the sass) and it was nice to see the positive influence Hayley and Angie had on each other. You get the feeling a much deeper friendship has just been found. A terrific piece for all actors involved.

I loved the active nature of this monologue. We experience Caroline's epiphany as she does. She isn't just relating an event, we live it with her. And it's so well written, it ALMOST seems as if we hear Peter's responses (or non-responses) as she does. It's witty, but with a tinge of regret that it's taken her so long to come to this realization. A terrific monologue for any actress.

The truth hurts, doesn't it? And by hurt, I mean side-splitting, gut-busting laughter hurt from Scott Sickles deranged exorcism film spoof. Baby Harold was demonic (in a way, just ask Melissa) BEFORE a real demon took up residence. And now everyone gets to suffer the consequences, from the put-upon dad, the hunky priest brought in to combat the demon, and mom's bestie who gets to learn some uncomfortable truths about having children of your own. In the end though, everyone gets what they want (except the demon of course) including the audience. A beast of a winner.

If you need further proof that having children is like going off to war, look no further than this cracker of a monologue by Chris Plumridge. It exudes an almost battlefront weariness as Sophie drinks to ease her troubles, the hand, a reminder that her battles have left some scars. Plus, that great title!