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PLEASE NOTE: The Reality TV World Message Boards are filled with desperate
attention-seekers pretending to be one big happy PG/PG13-rated family. Don't
be fooled. Trying to get everyone to agree with you is like herding cats,
but intolerance for other viewpoints is NOT welcome and respect for other
posters IS required at all times. Jump in and play, and you'll soon find out
how easy it is to fit in, but save your drama for your mama. All members are
encouraged to read the
complete guidelines.
As entertainment critic Roger
Ebert once said, "If you disagree with something I write, tell me so, argue
with me, correct me--but don't tell me to shut up. That's not the American way."
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"(Putrid)Prose -- non-entry"
Molaholic 7014 desperate attention whore postings
DAW Level: "Playboy Centerfold"
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07-28-05, 01:36 PM (EST)
 
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"(Putrid)Prose -- non-entry" |
LAST EDITED ON 07-28-05 AT 01:43 PM (EST)From my non-winning (non-losing?) Bulwer-Lytton entry a couple of years ago.
I. Ramona, her henna-red hair streaming crazily in the summer, freeway-speed-borne breeze, keeping a talon-like purchase with her jet-black tipped fingers on the tight leather-cased steering wheel of her mega-testosterone-sized, ultra-powered, crimson SUV convertible while it hurdled hell-bent and out of control over the sage-covered craggy cliff-face, the emasculated and lifeless body of her employer, Rodney, stuffed into the musky, bloodstained trunk, thought back over her 28 years of life, and how the past 24 hours of that all too short of span had seen her evolve from a mild-mannered, part-time volunteer shark-and-octopus docent at the prestigious National Children’s Aquarium into a sensuous, dangerous, deadly, callous and soon-to-be rock-splattered international endangered tropical fish smuggler and ichthyologist seductress.
II. King John the Obsequious still had great reservations, recalling the myriad of occasions when he had locked horns with the Raven-haired, freshly-enobled gentleman kneeling before him and finishing his traditional Oath of Faith and Fealty, realizing that a strict code of Chivalry might not be sufficient to rein-in Sir Gwain of Balfor’s explosive temper … he was, after all, a dark and stormy Knight, who, unbeknownst to the befuddled monarch, had just breathlessly returned to the Royal Court after his nightly clandestine shtooping of the flaxen, buxom and eternally carnally inquisitive Queen Velma.
ETA -- This year's winner loser here
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