Bad Novel Project, part one
Created | Updated Dec 31, 2008
Since a book is really just a series of pages with writing on them, and a novel is a series of pages with lies on them,
it follows that anyone with a fictional bint can fill a series of pages with lies with very little effort. There are people, however, who believe that they cannot write. They never go to the effort of trying. The published authors of novels are often people who cannot write but will not be convinced of that fact. Here is proof that I cannot write but have not been stopped yet.
Kind to him out of curiosity, people took his daughter to be a saint beyond reach of normal conversation.
While the cat clung to the screen door, Neal Armstrong stepped onto the moon.
Three flavours at once were more than enough for Gatherer Mather, and her brothers, Hunter, Tanner and Schnorer.
There were no enemies there, just friends who couldn't stand each other anymore.
Time stood still while her colon rushed ahead.
Sex bothered her because it was difficult to be anal retentive, orgasmic and a Reform Christian Druid at the same time.
The corn flakes were stale and the milk was too soon from the cow.
The drummer was stone deaf, but he had a good feel. He would begin and they would follow.
With a characteristic noise, the squirrel hit the windshield of the jetliner at 40,000 feet.
He cried because there were no ardwolves in the animal cracker box.
If the brakes held out, the car might remain on the bridge until it was nearly vertical.
She thought of a reply but decided to save it for a more suitable victim.
The flowers were in bloom and the fertilizer business was no longer in high cotton.
