Thursday, August 30, 2007

Story #18 - Swearing Contest

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Swearing Contest
by Dan Schwartz

I wanted to live in the land of bad decisions. In order to live in the land of bad decisions, you have to make some bad decisions.

"Shit," I said to myself, "fuck." I decided that those words were all that I would say. I went to my neighbor and I said "fuck!" She just turned away. At work I said shit and fuck to my bosses and my co-workers. They were not impressed.

"I can say fuck more times than you can," said my boss.

"Like fuck you can," I said.

So we both stood up. Someone got a stop watch out. "Ready?" they said. "Go!"

"Fuck!" I said. "Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck!" And so on and so on. I was getting creative with it, making up crazy rhythms, slapping my knee to keep time. At the end of thirty seconds I had said fuck 125 times.

"Not bad," said my boss. "Not too bad, anyway."

"All right, go!" they said to my boss, and he took off. It was like watching the space shuttle launching, but not on TV, like you are right next to it and your ears will never work again. The thing is, although he was saying "fuck" so fast, you could clearly make out every word, every syllable.

When time was called, he had said fuck 986 times.

"Shit," I said.

"By the way, you're fired," he said.

So now I don't have a job per se, and he and I got sued for harassment, which is bullshit and I will fight it. But I'm concerned about what will happen when I apply for a new job, and I give them my boss' number as a reference.

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Thursday, August 23, 2007

Story #17 - Foreign Lands

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Foreign Lands
by Dan Schwartz

I wanted to live in the land of bad decisions. In order to live in the land of bad decisions, you have to make some bad decisions.

I went off to foreign lands for a vacation, mostly around Europe. Every new country is a new opportunity to make a bad decision. You don't know anybody there, and sometimes you don't even know the language. What are they going to do, deport you? And even if they do, you were going back home anyway.

I was arrested after a soccer riot in Spain. They found many, many drugs on me. I am not ashamed.

In France I attempted to beat a man up, but this proved to be difficult. I didn't go to a hospital. I take pride in that.

I tried to have an affair in Luxembourg, but the language barrier kept getting in the way. I don't even know what they speak in Luxembourg.

In Switzerland I ate as much chocolate as I could, as fast as I could. I had to go to the hospital for that one.

Finally in England I wore a shirt that said "AMERICA" in big letters and had a big flag on it and went into the seediest bars I could find. I don't really want to talk about it right now.

I returned home satisfied that Europe was okay and the land of bad decisions is indeed an international place. It has no borders. It is inside all of us.

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Thursday, August 16, 2007

Story #16 - Unkind To A Dog

Here is this week's story. I like this one. Please enjoy.

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Unkind to a Dog
by Dan Schwartz

I wanted to live in the land of bad decisions. In order to live in the land of bad decisions, you have to make some bad decisions.

I was unkind to a dog. When it wanted food I would not give it much. I would be cross and moody whenever we went for walks. I refused to pick up after it. If it barked at me I would just tell it to shut up. I hate leashes. I don't like other dog owners, either. Basically, the dog and I didn't get along.

The dog is passive-aggressive. When it wants something it will act like it doesn't. He'll go to the door and just wait there and look at me. He has this unblinking stare that dogs shouldn't have. He can stop his tail from moving at all. It's uncanny.

I realized that we weren't getting on together, so I decided I had to get rid of him. I also decided I should do it illegally. I went to an alley somewhere in town, put it there, and then left. It was no good because he followed me home. I should have run faster.

I was thinking of putting him in the car and driving out to a field and letting him go there, but whenever I put him in the car he gets sick. I didn't want to clean up dog vomit as a parting gift.

So one night I waited until it was dark, crept up to him, grabbed him and put him outside. He was upset. I figured the best way to make him unwelcome is never to let him in again. Of course this comes with problems, such as I have to be extra careful when I go outside lest he should get in sometime. I am also worried that he could be digging.

I think my best option at this point is to get some dog food and put it in a far away location so that he will be attracted to it. If I get enough food he probably will not need to return. I have enough going on in my life that I don't need a dog to give me trouble.

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Thursday, August 9, 2007

Story #15 - Chicken Fight

Here is a story that does not have anything to do with food.

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Chicken Fight
by Dan Schwartz

I wanted to live in the land of bad decisions. In order to live in the land of bad decisions, you have to make some bad decisions.

I was drunk and I found myself in the middle of a farm. I thought I knew what I was doing. There were some free-range chickens just in the field, walking around. I had never seen a chicken before that wasn't breaded or grilled. These were real and in front of me.

I wanted to make them fight each other. First I tried running around them to get them into a circle, but I realized that wouldn't work. A fight would have to spring naturally from a conflict. I saw a chicken by itself, looking tough. I walked over to it, got real close and said, "That chicken over there? Says you're an idiot."

It pecked me in the face. It must have known that the chicken I was talking about was actually okay.

So I walked over to another chicken and grabbed it, and held it up. It started making chicken noises. I threw it at a pile of chickens.

And sure enough, these chickens started brawling. Oh, it was everywhere. These chickens were rough with each other, they did not hold anything back. A lot of chickens were stumbling out with broken limbs. Feathers were lost.

After a while I started to run away. I think they must have recognized that I had caused this, because I thought I saw them coming after me. I managed to escape safely, though.

Now whenever I go to KFC I wonder if those chickens still have the fighting spirit within them. If I could find the farm again, I'd want to go back. Of course they might have good memories, though. That's the problem with some of the things I do - once you do something, you're not welcome back there ever again.

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Thursday, August 2, 2007

Story #14 - Expired Food

Here is a new story for you on this nice Thursday.

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Expired Food
by Dan Schwartz

I was looking in my refrigerator when I noticed that a lot of the food had tiny dates printed on them, and a lot of the dates corresponded to a few months ago. The milk felt solid. I opened it up and poured myself a glass and drank it. I spat it out immediately. Then I thought, if I'm going to do this, then I have to do this right.

I ate some stale cereal. I found some raw meat, and at first I thought I was going to cook it, but then I couldn't decide. I saved it for later.

There was some brown salsa, I think it might have been guacamole once.

Some cheese I could not even cut with a knife. I had no choice but to eat it whole.

Coming back to the meat, the ground beef, I decided that raw was the only way to go. I've already made this many bad decisions, why not make another one?

I should point out here that none of this tasted very good.

Anyway. I finished it all off with a glass of water and took a walk. I didn't get very far, and decided that perhaps a hospital is needed. Still, though, I finally can say that I've done it, because I never thought that I would get the chance to.

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