Monday, July 26, 2010

Story #99 - Attachment, by Tiffany Johnstone

Hi everyone! I am back this week, with a new story by Tiffany Johnstone! She is a very talented writer and is working on her PhD in English. She is better than pretty much everyone else! Here you go!

If you have a story to submit, check out the submission guidelines and send it to djfschwartz at gmail dot com.


by Tiffany Johnstone

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.

When I was 18, i left the little fishing village that I grew up in and had to say goodbye to my family, my pets, and my first boyfriend. I moved to Toronto and went to an elitist college. I grew up in a humble intellectual family. But at the school, a lot of the people there were rich and had been to private schools and were very concerned with either conformists rising on the ladder of social status or aspiring toward what felt to my 18 year old self like ruthless materialistic individualism. Feeling lost, I threw myself into my work. One day, a family of squirrels built a nest in my window pane.

I decided that this was some kind of sign that I was not alone and that there was still a place for spiritual growth and community and passion in such an urban space. I fell completely in love with the squirrel family. I watched the babies grow from tiny naked possibilities to round muscular young creatures. I even watched them on the day that they decided to leave the window and even though I listened everyday for them, they never returned.

I cleaned the nest, hoping to move on from this experience of harbouring this family of animals that I had allowed myself to love. But unfortunately, the squirrels must have had fleas because then I was bitten several times. My room had to be fumigated and I had to move to the spare room that was in the lobby of the dormitory. Each morning the cleaning lady forgot that I lived there and opened the door causing me to scream in shock, once while an exam was taking place next door.

Then I broke out in hives and had to go the doctor where I promptly fainted and had to be carried past all the patients in the waiting room. Actually, when I fainted, it turns out that I astral travelled. I was consciously unconscious so to speak. All I remember is feeling as though I was completely free and safe and that waking up was like falling...or like leaving a nest.


Tuesday, July 20, 2010

Story #98 - Ate A Bottle Of Shampoo

Hello everyone! Here is your extra special Tuesday edition of LOBD! Because, um, I sort of forgot to update last night. But it is okay! Because here it is. You know, I'd be able to have a tighter schedule - and undoubtedly better entries - if I had more submissions. Check out the submission guidelines, and send some along. I hope you enjoy today's story.


Ate a Bottle of Shampoo
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 taking a shower, and I noticed that the bottle of shampoo didn't have any warnings against eating any of it. So I immediately thought that what I should do is take the bottle, open it with a knife and fork, and see what it was like to eat. So that's exactly what I did.

After I got dressed, I grabbed the bottle and put it on a plate. I got out a butter knife, but of course it wasn't strong enough to cut the bottle. So I grabbed a much better knife that I had bought from a traveling salesman a few years back. This one lived up to its promise. It cut the bottle smoothly and evenly. The shampoo itself started oozing out in a thick globule, sort of spreading around my plate. I cut a chunk of the bottle into a bite-size portion, and ate into it.

Not surprisingly, the bottle was the most flavor. It tasted like smooth plastic, not coarse like a lego toy, more of a cheap three-ring binder. The shampoo itself actually had no taste. I wasn't milky enough, like I thought it would be. It was actually kind of difficult to eat. It was a bit thick, a bit like old yogurt.

Even so, I managed to finish the whole thing. After that I felt a bit funny. I wondered, should I call poison control? And I decided: no. I would wait this out. I sat there, staring at the wall. Then I ended up calling poison control anyway. Oh, how they laughed and laughed.


Monday, July 12, 2010

Story #97 - Took Soccer Dives

Hello! I hope you enjoyed your 4th of July / Canada Day celebrations. If you have a bad decision story you would like to share, let me know! I personally did not make any decisions that were too bad, but I know that these people did. In any case, please enjoy today's story.


Took Soccer Dives
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 sitting on the train, reading a newspaper, when a man accidentally hit me on the back of the head as he was walking past. "I'm sorry," he said.

There was a split second where I wondered what I was going to do, and then my decision was made. I hurled myself onto the ground, holding my head, turning myself over, and crying. I tried to tear out some of my hair for good measure. After that I sprawled into kind of a spread eagle position, face down on the floor, hoping that I could will myself to bleed.

After a while I looked up. The man who hit me had gotten off the train minutes earlier. Everyone else was back to reading their newspapers. Not even the train security guy was looking at me. I stood up, brushed off a stray candy wrapper, and sat down. I wondered if I ought to go to the hospital.

I decided that I needed to try this in a more public place. I got off the train downtown, and headed toward a big crowd. I waited until someone bumped my shoulder, then took to the sidewalk (which actually hurt even more) and curled up into a little fetal ball, sobbing, asking somebody, anybody to help me. What was I waiting for? I wasn't hoping to punish anybody, nor did I actually wanted help. What I really wanted was a circle to form, where I would be in the center, and everybody would be looking at me. However, this never happened.

Eventually I got fed up and started hitting people on purpose, then falling down in agony. It still didn't work. Eventually I punched a cop. He didn't buy my story that he broke my hand, but he did help me out with my technique by tasering the shit out of me.

Out of all of this, if it can be said that I learned anything, it was that there are times when taking dives is appropriate and there are times when this is not appropriate.