Tuesday, July 11, 2006


It's supposed to be bad. Extremely bad. Terrifically bad. The Bulwer-Lytton Fiction Contest demands it.

The annual contest for the worst opening sentence in an imaginary novel goes to Jim Guigli of Carmichael, Calif., who uncorks this puppy:
Detective Bart Lasiter was in his office studying the light from his one small window falling on his super burrito when the door swung open to reveal a woman whose body said you've had your last burrito for a while, whose face said angels did exist, and whose eyes said she could make you dig your own grave and lick the shovel clean.
So bad it makes us shiver. On a dark and stormy night, of course.


Anonymous said...

Should that not be:



Fat Jack said...

Okay, I have to know. How do you find this stuff?

MrsThurstonHowell said...

It was a dark and stormy night. All of the bloggers were seated around the campfire, when suddenly someone said, "Let's have a story!" And this is the story that was told. "It was a dark and stormy night..."

My prize is in the mail I'm told.

Granny Geek said...

O, M, G. I've been following this contest off nad on for several years and this is the BEST entry ever!

John Stone said...

How 'bout this one:

As she sashayed out of the police station, her high heels clicking a staccato rhythm on the hard tile floor, like a one-armed castanet player in a very bad mariachi band, her ample bosom held in check only by a diaphanous blouse, and bouncing at each step like a 1959 tricked out Low-rider Chevy with very good hydraulics---she smiled to herself as she thought of the titillating interrogation from Detective Tipple about the Twin Peaks Melon Heist.

Wayne Spivey, Major, USAF Retired
Huntsville, Texas

Of course from an AF guy. It comes from fu****g around with airplanes too much.