Originally titled Dick Diaries, JUNK began as a comedic social commentary on masculinity. Over time, it evolved into something far more complex—a funny, honest, and deeply human exploration of what it means to be a man in today’s world.
Through a diverse collection of monologues, JUNK gives voice to traditional and non-traditional men. Rather than offering answers, it asks better questions. It challenges the outdated mythology of American masculinity while celebrating the humor, vulnerability, contradictions, and resilience that make us human.
The idea was born more than thirty years ago during a dinner conversation. Someone remarked, “Men have been exploiting women for centuries.” My immediate response was, “Fuck that. Let’s exploit men!” It was a joke—but it sparked a lifelong creative journey.
The first incarnation was All About Dick, an exploration of masculinity through photography, painting, sculpture, and eventually adult coloring books. As the project gained a following on social media, it evolved into Dick Diaries, where I began writing short stories inspired by conversations, observations, interviews, and submissions from men willing to share their lives with remarkable honesty.
As I listened, the stories became richer. Humor gave way to vulnerability. Certainty gave way to contradiction. Short pieces became character studies, and those character studies became monologues. Each character in JUNK is fictional, but every one is rooted in authentic experiences, emotions, and truths gathered over decades of listening.
The first staged reading took place in 2015, followed by additional readings, workshops, and extensive revisions. A Zoom performance during the COVID pandemic led to another major rewrite, and in 2024 the work emerged as JUNK.
Subsequent staged readings throughout 2025 and 2026 confirmed something I hadn’t anticipated: no two actors perform the same character in the same way. The monologues are intentionally written to give performers the freedom to bring their own humor, vulnerability, and perspective to each role.
The conversations after the performances have become as meaningful as the performances themselves. Men often speak openly about experiences they’ve rarely shared. Women frequently recognize their own relationships, frustrations, and hopes in these stories. Audiences may not agree with every character, but they often recognize themselves in them.
At its heart, JUNK isn’t about defining masculinity.
It’s about questioning the stories we’ve inherited, examining the masks we wear, and creating space for more honest conversations about identity, love, purpose, belonging, and what it means to live authentically.
In a culture increasingly divided by certainty, JUNK invites audiences to do something different:
Listen.
Laugh.
Question.
Connect.
Because meaningful change rarely begins with agreement.
It begins with curiosity.
One of my favorite lines in the play captures that spirit perfectly:
“I love women. I love men. I love… love. And I hate that makes me the weird one.”