Write the most awful opening to a book you can think of

These still make me chuckle. anyone have the rest?

The deadliest force known to man is love, for it spares no one and drives even the most rational of men to madness and despair. Love's mighty grip is impersonal and ubiquitous: hearts are broken in slums and palaces alike. And what is the cause of these broken hearts? In every case, love.

Here's the archived thread.

warosu.org/lit/thread/S8470021

thanks famalam

"How come muffins dont just come in bigger sizes?" Said my soon to be ex wife, like she needed any muffin of any size anyway. The stupid bitch bounced the seat when she fell forward into it, and It reminded me of the painful vision of her bouncing on Tim's dick last month. I told her i was fine with it, but I really wasn't. I'm just afraid that if I divorce her, the stupid cunt judge will side with her and she'll get everything. The cocksucker might even demand that I cut my own dick off and hand it to her. She turns on the radio and listens to that Selena Gomez trash. I smile inside, remembering that earlier that day I had masturbated to one of her music videos. With the pleasant thought of barely legal pop music whores in my head, I drive down the street to my daughter's community college. My daughter, as opposed to Selena Gomez, is only a regular whore. She thinks I don't know, because she thinks like her fucking mother, whore number 1. Sometimes at night, I reach for my pistol, beneath the bed, and I imagine squeezing the trigger. For now I go to my daughter's community college and I ask about her day, I ask what she's studying even though I know its freshman cock. Stupid slut. I can't wait to leave her dorm, and with the fucking cow in tow I rush out of there, and drive home quick enough to relax a little before work. When work rolls around the pig bitch is asleep, in a food coma, and I'm putting on my Gorilla costume. Im the mascot for the Phoenix Suns, on home game days, on other days I'm just a costume for hire. If another spic or nigger kid comes and fucks with my zipper I will go bananas on them. I try to beat the traffic.

Crash

Every fucking time

Why is God the enemy?

We adopted a golden retriever!

The End.

Once upon a time and a very good time it was there was a moocow coming down along the road and this moocow that was coming down along the road met a nicens little boy named baby tuckoo.

In the shot of sun through the sliver of blindslats I woke from my slumber. It was hot in my room. I sat up and layer right back down. I was working witha halfchub. I slung my shit over my waistband and beat it like it owed me money. I was rock hard. What is pleasure but the rim of ecstasy? I worked on the head.

I turned to my palm.

I spat.

I worked the head.

I came.

It spat.

oh hehe i see you like sonic unleashed.

It was the best of times, it was the worst of times.

>it was the beginning of the end

and this is jackass!

Her eyes, deep with amber expectation, soft light dancing around her skin. Love is a sunset, it's bright then... fades. I don't experience pain, only severance. I want to die in her arms. She has a bigger dick. I'm in heaven.

One mean honkey-devised celly app led me to her pussy.

nice

I might be an idiot, but that actually rocks

i would read this book.

This is the most awful opening to a book you can think of.

It was a bright and clear day. Just an ordinary day for me, Rodrigo (my prisoner name is Jonathan- damn parental units!) in my typical suburban all american neighborhood. Now I guess it's best for me to tell you what I look like. I'm pretty tall for my twelve years of age (Five foot one thank you very much), have 75 pounds of pure muscle, and a full head of dirty blonde hair. I go full native style, buzzed short in the summer, long in the winter. Right now it's spring, so I look like the long lost Icelandic Beetle. By the way, Jeff was here. We were playing spies in my backyard. Jeff is a bit shorter than me, and a lot more....big boned. He's got messy brown hair and grandma glasses. So what do Jeff and Rodrigo like to do? Any zany thing I come up with! You'll see just how much of an absolute madman I can be. Just wait.

The common man is like a sheep.

I looked up smilingly from the book, my mouth curled at both corners like a bliss banana. The laughter swirled in my stomach before rolling into and out of my mouth, over my protruding bottom lip, and falling squelching into my gay lap, like a frickin' banana.

It's impossible to keep up that style of writing. You run out of steam quickly.

You could say I was different. Sure, I was a wampyre, but so was everyone at my school. No, I mean I wasn't really a wampyre; not fully anyway. I was a half-wampyre, wampyre hunter, and that spells BLOOD!

My nerves tumbled around inside my guts like a flippin' washing machine o' budderflies. It was my first day of wampyre school and that spells BLOOD.

Call me Muhammed. Muhammed679332, to be precise.

I tried googling this what is it from?

it's a meme you dip

at the end of world war 2 the world was split into two

The young spine snaped over his knee like a fresh milano, the girl's stomach soft and round shone in the moonlit yard. He started sweating and breathing hard. Preemptively, he took out his inhaler and shook it, scaring some critters in the bushes. Jeremy closed his eyes and thought he was one step closer to the final sacrifice. The body was still warm. He breathed in deep the spray in the tiny device.

Nah, you're a fucking hack. You should really never run out of association

While reading this post I was driven to the brink of suicide three times

Love. Love never changes.

Looking at the opening image, Patrick said, "That African American looks very wealthy!"

EAST

AND

W E S T

scuruffi?

East and yeast. These are the words I began to associate with downtown.

He took a long drag from his pall mall orange, "so, tell me about your family".

...

...

A Reddit thread where Redditors posted the first lines of the novels they're writing. They're all hilariously bad.

this is very amusing. Name of the book?

such a weak, backwards logic argument surely would rustle many jimmies. Even made me a bit sore at first but based on the OP I can say you did a great job.

I just pray people don't reply to this post with agreement of the obvious fallacies and contradictions that make it bad.

this is actually not bad, and can be related to many people. Why do you think this is bad writing? Have you ever loved someone who was wrong for you, or loved at all for that matter?

I guess he thought it sounded cliche'd. It does, but that doesn't mean it isn't true, and it also doesn't mean the author couldn't have worded it better.

I wrote this based off the gorilla in the picture and just random rantings.

I think you have a talent. You should write more.

Thanks. I write everyday and never seem to finish anything. It leads to most of the sadness in my life. Any ideas on how to get out of that mess?

Is Gass really that bad?

Structure story moments and then write between those points.

Hang yourself

Holy shit I hate this. But it's also realistic somehow.
Good job my man

would read

Thanks, I'll keep that advice in mind.

It was a dark, rainy night on the night I was born.

"this party isn't fast and bulbous"
this is creepily real, user.

>the fact that
isn't this a shitty phrase to use?

The Argentinians had just invaded the Falklands. But I didn't care. I was waiting for my HIV-test result.

underrated

who's there? am i?

Wow I never knew how pleb I was until I discovered that even my taste in Korn albums was bad.

I always thought scaruffi was a /mu/ tripfag not an actual Italian person. But why does he hate the Beatles so much? Aren't the Beatles a pretty good band?

You're pretty talented this was hilarious

Holy....I want more....

>I always thought scaruffi was a /mu/ tripfag not an actual Italian person.
lol

2/10

Waking up to a loud crash rarely means something good is happening. It's never "CRASH! mom made pancakes!" or "CRASH! We decided to adopt a Golden Retriever!"

So...PM me if you get published. I like your style. I want to read more.

10/10

Because The Beatles are so unbelievably overrated.

Holy.....I want more.....

9 months later, he got the depressing answer.

Scaruffi's take on The Beatles is memed into oblivion but it has some merit honestly, read the entire thing

holy fuck scaruffi is a memester

Skip, slap, slide, stop, sink: the sojourn of a lowly stone across a sparkling Summer pond. My next throw, shaky in spirit, sows unto the water a final slinking pebble. I hope that centuries ahead, when the sun shifts ever closer to the Earth, sizzling its streams and pools, these rocks stand guard against the steam and vapours of the dying landscape—one last monument to the
unassailable soul of my people. My arms shake ever violently as soldiers scale the hill. They draw their rifles. So long.

fuck you that one is great

Barbra, put that stick down!!

fuck off dude

This is an story about class struggle and hip-hop.

Holy.....I want more.....

The song played loudly on the jukebox which shouldn't have been there because the world had ended. Dragons. I personally believe that the teachings of Jesus Christ are more important than the fact of his death, and that he represents a higher principle which anyone could attain (in principle (but that's not to say in practice (basically, there are real world constraints that have to be accounted for))). When I was very young I had a dream once where I was going to a school, it was a new school and very shiny and the principal and my mom guided me there, and the principal had crutches for some reason, and then when I was there I met this boy who was playing with me, but then a giant fissure opened up in the middle of the school and started to expand, and the other boy hid in a stairwell, which was of course safe according to a duck and cover style film we'd watched sooner, but he was across the fissure and it was expanding, so I got a running start and made the jump, but I was moving so fast I hit the staircase and bounced off of it, even though I tried to roll, so I fell into the fissure, into the lava in the fissure, and burned alive, and for some reason the principal didn't need crutches anymore and was skipping happily. I remember that dream, and I think now of the dragons, who are not real dragons, but robot ghost dragons from the space between spaces. At least, that is what the government tells us.

Call me Harambe. Dicks out please.

The email said, in sad, bold letters:
You, the half-brother of the deceased, have been invited to the funeral of Morris Zeems :(

kids here probably weren't even born yet when this meme came out.

Holy..... I want more

And so, he really was, the Catcher in the Rye.

god you're embarrassing

Those dubs say you should at least make a short story out of that.