@thirdwind I laughed out loud when I read ejaculated. People looked at me funny... --- It was Friday and I was home rather than at Billy Jenkinses party and it certainly bummed my mood out the door. I hoped the party had been canceled when it had began to rain hard all of a sudden but I knew the party would happen either way and me without an invitation. Billy Jenkin was a jerk, why are all the football seniors like that. I was pretty. Much prettier than that slut Joanna. My reflection looked back at me in the glass window. The rivulets distorted my features but even then I still was pretty. Big blue eyes looked rather lonely, pretty rings in my ears accented by long brown hair. Even there I looked depressed just like my mother said. It was because I was too smart to be part of the popular girl group. They were all stupid fake blonds and were jealous that I was pretty and smart so they badmouth me to all the others boys and then I don't get invitations to the parties. I woiuld go crash the party but I don't want to. I'm too sad. I wonder if there is anything on TV? I turn it on and see just reruns of the Golden Girls everywhere...
I was already laughing from the rest of this thread, but your completely unnecessary use of "ejaculated" sent me over the edge This sent me back to those high school English writing activities where one person would start a story, and pass it around, and everyone would add something until it was finished. I sat behind a particularly boring guy, so this is essentially what I was given every time. It was truly terrible.
"Hi!" screamed John exasperatedly as he slowly crept wistfully into the nudie bar, leaving you wondering if this is just bad writing or if John has some sort of mental condition.
@thirdwind- Pretty funny! Quite over the top there to the point that I would actually enjoy reading the story, because it's comical enough to read as a well-thought-out parody of writing, versus just a bad opening like this: "Once up on a time, there lived a fish. The fish lived in the magical city of Atlantis, but he wasn't magical. That broke his sweet little heart. The fish was really jealous of the mermaids, sea monsters, and all the fish who were mean to him. Then one day, he finally had enough." Juvenile, simplistic, patronizing, boring, and bland. There ya go! XD I'd throw that book out the window in flash.
The teenaged vampire was nervous to deliver her speech. Her werewolf boyfriend was in the first row. A bead of sweat rolled down her pale face.
Marie stood at the window, looking out at the rain-soaked street that glistened like a snake emerging from its hole in a faraway land. She sighed, the gust of her breath rising voluptuously from the depths of her delicate, tormentous being. She was lonely, so cruelly lonely! On the cruel-forged pavement below people passed by, cruelly stomping their mincing way past her humble domicile, never thinking to cast their vapid eyes upward at her tear-swollen visage, never cogitating on the ruinous plight of one so undeserving of grief as she. What did they know of tribulation, those masses zooming by so deliberately, those heedless herds crowding one by one under the light-bright sunny sky? Marie reiterated her soul-filled exhalation. All of a sudden, Oh! Oh! she cried, envisioning disaster upon disaster, as her animated hands clutched and reclutched her chest as she heard a doom-bearing knock fall hollowly upon the fragile oak of her narrow chamber door.
Allow me to share the work of Leopold Stotch: Douglas had to poop. His butt was all stinky because he had to poop so badly. There was a gross woman named Rebecca who was sunbathing all naked and she was fat. Douglas walked up to her and said, "I need to poop". "Okay, Rebecca replied, "I like poop." Douglas squatted down over the fat sunbathing lady and went poop. The poop sat there on Rebecca's boobs, looking like a wiener.
This about to be the worst opening you ever seen. Fanfiction time! First two lines come from an actual Meek Mill song! MMG Undefeated Adenosine Triphosphate “Play no games with these bitches, they treat me like I’m Tony!” Meek Mill shouted, drinking from a twenty-four ounce can of Monster Energy. “I put cheese on you rats, get hit with that macaroni!” he screamed, swinging his fists wildly. “Ugh!” He knocked over a plasma-screen television. It tumbled out the window, landing in the middle of a busy highway. Sitting in a plush chair, Mac Miller lifted his head lazily. “Meek, you trippin,” he said. He took a long puff from his joint. “Gimme that!” Meek grabbed the joint, unrolled it, and swallowed its contents in a single gulp. “Real men don’t need no paper!” “The hell…” Mac trailed off as the weed took hold. “What was I saying?” “Nothing important,” Meek said, jumping on top of a table. “Put them xanthines in my Monster, now I can’t sit still / F*** with me and I throw your TV out the sill!” “Ross won’t be happy about that… ugh… money, bitches, money, never sleep…” Mac put his head down. “Bitch I’m an insomniak... zzz… zzz…” “I got a new song idea! Time to hit the studio! Maybach Music, bitch!” Meek threw up a gang sign, pulled out his Ruger, and shot at the door until he blew it off its hinges. “Shoot out the door / now Ross gone have to buy more!” The rapper sprinted out of the room, laughing maniacially. And so begins the tale of Rick Ross's protege, a man that eats cannabis leaves whole and dissolves caffeine powder in his energy drinks.
Ahh, this old beauty A shard of sunlight streaked past the curtain, illuminated the bedroom, a glow cast upon the dresser, the doyley and an arrangement of figurines that sparkled with the morning's heat. Samantha stretched tendrils across the soft goose feather pillow, stroked the cheek of the handsome sailor teddy bear.
She felt the wet squelch even before she heard it. Cat vomit, three days old, oozed from between her toes.
Anything that begins with 'The man' or 'The woman.' 'The man sat at his typewriter'. *shudder*. Also, from John Norman's GOR: 'My name is Tarl Cabot. The name is supposed to have been shortened in the fifteenth century from the Italian surname Cabato.'
The worst opening lines, of course! My turn: ~*~*~ "MAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!" The llama cried as it ran up the feild! "MAAAAA THERE IS A WOF CHEASING MEEEEEEEEHH!!!!" Mama Llama looked ast the worlf and suddenly stood up and KICKED THE WOLF TO THE MOON!!! THE ENDZ!!! ~*~*~ Yeah, I have to say, I love this thread.
I'm tempted to post a few lines from the first thing I ever wrote. It's that sort of author-ignorant-of-craft's-supreme-garbageness. Pure burn it.
It was three in the morning when I glanced at the clock and realised, shit, it's only three in the morning, so I went back to sleep and woke up again at 5, ready for breakfast before catching the bus (not really catching, more like getting on) for the fifteen and a half minute ride to the office, traffic pending, where, today I hoped, my new lodgement stamp with the augmented company logo replacing the salmon with a shark would finally arrived in it's brown paper wrapping after months of angry calls, by me, to the maker.
"She walked into my office on legs as long as one of those long-legged birds that you see in Florida - the pink ones, not the white ones - except that she was standing on both of them, not just one of them, like those birds, the pink ones, and she wasn't wearing pink, but I knew right away that she was trouble, which those birds usually aren't."
Probably because it was the winner -detective of the 2009 Bulwer-Lytton competition for bad opening lines, written by Eric Rice.