I say, bleah. Brevity is the soul of wit, and this goes on and on and on
and then it goes on and on and on some more and then it goes on for a bit
after that. Long, long, long. Much funnier, sez I, is the likes of
this:
Jennifer stood there, quietly ovulating.
The Lyttle Lytton
Contest
The Bulwer-Lytton
Fiction Contest requires one to write the most horrible opening sentance
to a novel; the Lyttle Lytton Contest is the same,
only you are restricted to 25 words or less, which makes for funnier
openings, such as:
Monica had exploded, and I had a mystery, and pieces of her pancreas, on
my hands.
B. Otter
or
For centuries, man had watched the clouds; now, they were watching
him.
S. Sachs
Great stuff here. Now I just need to come up with a horrible opening line
to a novel.
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