BWAH!
Aimee, I just flashed on Clueless, in the car: "Like, I TOTALLY paused!"
A place for Buffistas to discuss, beta and otherwise deal and dish on their non-fan fiction projects.
BWAH!
Aimee, I just flashed on Clueless, in the car: "Like, I TOTALLY paused!"
I'm not sure I can compete with the crumpet of sex. I'll ponder.
I'm not sure I can compete with the crumpet of sex.
The untoasted crumpet of sex, please.
I'm actually really happy with my "bad night philosophy" once. It's an exercise in long, droney, run-on sentences.
The One He Didn't See Coming
It was quiet tonight. Too quiet.
He’d been at the front too long.. His piercing blue eyes penetrated the new mooned night. Little movement from his vantage point even when his weathered face scrunched his crow’s feet into deep, ravaged furrows.
Too damn quiet. Hadn’t been a night without gunfire and mangled screams since the truce was broken. Not that it mattered much. He had nothing to go back to.
He pulled her last letter out of his shirt pocket, streaked and torn.
He had just unfolded it one last time when the bullet-the one you never hear-entered his brainpan.
His piercing blue eyes penetrated the new mooned night.
whimper
Hee. Take that Untoasted Crumpet Girl.
Take that Untoasted Crumpet Girl.
Nothing can defeat the Buttery Untoasted Crumpet of Love!
Somebody's new moon pierced by blue eyes begs to differ...
Somebody's new moon pierced by blue eyes begs to differ...
pftpftpftph.
Where's your pointless repetition? Where are all the staccato individual words chopped out of perfectly good sentences? Where's your grotesquely overdone use of adverbs, missy?
Huh? Huh?
(although, I actually think my "night" drabble is worse than my "porn" drabble.)
Hey, I have more practice trying to make my bad writing good than bad writing left whimpering on its own.
I tried the non-linear over metaphored angle meself.
Although, I do bow to the flowery badness that is your Night drabble, in all candor.