Thursday, February 28, 2008

Story #37 - Bad Drugs

Sorry about the delay on this one, I have been extremely busy (and forgetful, okay). But we are back for reals this time!

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Bad Drugs
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 took some bad drugs. It started out as an experiment, sort of, to be how many drugs I could take without dying. But I'm not that well off, and so I couldn't get my hands on the good stuff. So I took what I could get.

It was interesting, to say the least. My body had trouble ingesting some of them, and chose to expel it in the sorriest way. The rest, well. How do I describe it.

I went to Antarctica, and I was very surprised not to see any penguins there but rather the busts of the heads of several Vice Presidents, including Magic Johnson, our 50th. I dug a hole in the ground - surprisingly easy - and covered myself with the snow, determined to make myself a snowman. It was difficult. The snow kept falling off and turning into small children. They wanted some candy, but I had none.

It was very cold, and I was very cold. Suddenly a face appeared that had no mouth but was still asking me to leave, first politely, but then rudely. It had an axe for a hand and a hand for a foot. It's foot-hand grabbed me on the leg, like a cat would if a cat had fingers instead of paws. It kept on doing this.

Then at the end I was a few states over and colder than I had ever been.

I refuse to go to the hospital for this. I refuse.

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Thursday, February 7, 2008

Story #36 - Waffle Iron

Folks, sorry it's been so long since my last story, but I hope you enjoyed the hiatus. I am busy this year but I'm going to stick to posting one story a week, every Thursday, for your enjoyment.

Of course, you could make it easier by writing something yourself and sending it to me.

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Waffle Iron
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.

It was right in front of me, and I could not help it. I turned it on and waited a few minutes. While I waited I fixed myself a strong drink of whiskey and soda water.

Then it was nice and hot. I opened it. I put my hand in the middle. I closed it.

It's like how you go to reach a kettle or something, and it's hot, so your hand instinctively moves away. Only now, it can't.

When I finally took it off - charred, seared - I saw the square marks covering it all over, having left their print.

And it was awesome.

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