Original Bad Prose or Stories!

Cin · 01-04-2012, 08:35 AM

Arlo couldn’t imagine how hy had lived before Poppy. It was as though hys life began when Poppy smiled. Hy remembered how she had smiled at hym the day hys buddy had introduced hym. Hy remembered how ecstatic hy was just knowing her name. Before Poppy, hy had simply wandered aimlessly through hys life, going through the motions of living. Now, Arlo could attest to being completely present. Hy couldn’t wait for the next minute to begin while still being able to live totally, completely in the moment. A trick that was as difficult as it was impossible. Hys body ached, hys soul ached, hys heart ached, hys entire being ached and it wasn’t the flu. No, it was love. The love Arlo had found in this deep meaningful connection with the woman of hys dreams. A woman who was, coincidently, not only beautiful beyond measure, but was also as beautiful on the inside as she was on the outside. Everything Arlo had ever wanted was embodied there in Poppy. Hy looked up and glanced toward hys soul mate as she sat calmly, regally across the room. She was everything hy would ever need and everything hy could ever want, she was all the things hy had dreamed of in a partner. She was all things to hym. It never ceased to amaze hym how she could be exactly who hy wanted her to be, how everything hy ever dreamed was exactly who she was. Now if only hy could only find a way to get to know her. Then they could begin planning the wedding.

Truly Scrumptious · 01-04-2012, 09:26 AM

She knew that tomcat wasn’t right in the head the day he showed up on her doorstep all mangy and hissing and carrying a dirty rag in his mouth like it was some kind of precious doll baby, but she invited him in and poured him a bowl of cream because in some way he reminded her of her momma who also wasn’t right in the head and was now serving time (and serving herself up too, to hear her tell it) for going all postal like after that “incident” down at the refinery, but she knew it wasn’t the cat’s fault and after all we all have our crosses to bear, her cross in particular being made out of clay and pipe cleaners momma had fashioned in prison arts & crafts class and which weighed about 10 pounds but which she wore around her neck dutifully even though she was developing quite a stoop.

*Anya* · 01-04-2012, 10:39 AM

Susan reflected deeply on her life, stretching back as far as infancy, though everyone told her that she could not possibly remember back that far but she knew that she could and that everyone else was wrong about that and she laughed-a sound somewhere between a phlegm-filled, 30-year smoker and that of the organ-grinder that had mysteriously appeared on her street last week, complete with a monkey in a jaunty red-satin hat, wearing jodhpurs with bright orange suspenders, that matched her coat and she reflected on her life and thought that was good, very good, the best it ever had been; excellent as a matter of fact.

She thoughtfully stared out of the dual-paned windows that she had installed last winter to keep out the cold and to lower her heating bill, watching the white crystals of frost cling to the edges of the panes and the little rivulets of water that almost appeared the same as the diamond-sparkling jewels of the tears she had shed the other day, as she buttoned up her orange, mohair coat, that looked something like Fluffy, her long-deceased cat that she had loved so much and had been crying over and she wondered if she had gotten the coat because it did remind her of all of those nights that Fluffy cuddled her in her down-filled bed, complete with down-filled duvet, down pillows and down feather bed, when she was missing her long-lost lover that used to cuddle her in bed before she was replaced by Fluffy but she reasoned, there was nothing she could do about either of them and she could always sleep with her coat, if she got really lonely.

She picked up her prized Bic pen and began to chew on the well-chewed end, as she usually did when thinking hard about something-which was her custom but also because thinking was difficult for her but she did her very best and with a deeply furrowed brow, she began to pen her missive. She kept her coat on because it comforted her and helped her to think better.

SoNotHer · 01-04-2012, 11:01 AM

Thank you all!

Hollylane · 01-04-2012, 12:14 PM

She wasn’t really very angry, though her scrunched face and pursed lips resembling something akin to a dried prune, or possibly a saladito in their constant dryness from lack of moisture, may have said otherwise to the passing stranger with the whites of their eyes showing in amazement at the fact that with this strained look that she had not yet imploded on the spot or simply had a bowel movement on the sidewalk in front of the courthouse.

*Anya* · 11-06-2017, 10:42 PM

**Bumping*** because surely, we must still have some very, very, bad, it is SO good, writing waiting to come out, don't we?

That sentence was pretty bad...

I just gave you a little push.

Kätzchen · 11-07-2017, 08:56 PM

After years of being the healthy individual she had always been, Maggie suddenly found herself staring at the endless bottles of prescription medication on her kitchen table.

Maggie had just been released from the hospital the night before, after having an attack of the shits. In Maggie's mind, Maggie kept cursing the doctor who kept putting her on medication after medication, to get to the bottom of the continual problem of having to visit the toilet more than she ever did in her life, before the Wheel of Medication turned her life upside down.

Remembering her latest fiasco of having accidentally shit her panties at the doctors office and how the stool lab came back with an less than normal outcome, Maggie complained to her doctor that he was going to find himself in a shit load of trouble if he couldn't get her on the right medication to prevent having to take a shit every hour on the hour.

Unfortunately, much to Maggie's chagrin, the doctor said, "Oh, Maggie, you're just full of Shit!"

Staring at the doctor, Maggie replied: "You're too late, I'm not full of shit!"

................. ............. .............

(This story is based upon an real life experience. The names of both parties are kept anonymous for the sake of anonymity)

(

)

Cin · 01-04-2012, 01:36 PM

Quote:

Originally Posted by SoNotHer

Thank you all!

That was hilarious. I couldn't help cracking up and then I felt mean. Just like those guys. The woman anchor did not find it amusing at all.

Hollylane · 01-04-2012, 02:14 PM

She licked the sour sweet taste of lime from her slack lips and frowned in consternation that she had not remembered to drink the tequila and only performed the first part and last part of the process of lick it, slam it, suck it. Perhaps this type of forgetfulness was also the reason her lover’s face had looked so confused when she forgot to remove her jeans and ended up wide eyed and floundering with her tongue stuck in the zipper.

With this as food for her few and fleeting thoughts, she lightly fingered the ripped up part of her tongue that ached from the bitter experience of metal teeth and that now stung from the lime and salt combo, minus the pain killing properties of the tequila that still sat on the bar in silent mourning for the part of her brain that seemed to be missing, and for the sad loss of the last remaining brain cell that used to sing out daily in a forlorn voice "I can see for miles and miles".

SoNotHer · 01-04-2012, 02:40 PM

Inventing and selling the clap on/clap off cock wasn’t all the knee-jerk-slapping, panty-twisting good time people thought it was. Since the failure of his “Dirty Dick Tricks” sex magic set, Ott wanted to make sure he thought long and hard in the excogitation phase of his new, convenient love missile. And he knew that the marketing deployment of this phallic phenomenon had to be equal to the promise of this easy, pleasy cock rocket’s red glare. No, this time, QVC and “As seen on TV” ads wouldn’t due. In fact, nothing less than a helicopter drop of flying pamphelted plastic penises would.

01-04-2012, 08:35 AM	#1
Cin Senior Member How Do You Identify?: Butch Preferred Pronoun?: she Relationship Status: Truly Madly Deeply Join Date: Aug 2011 Location: In My Head Posts: 2,815 My Photo Gallery Thanks: 6,333 Thanked 10,402 Times in 2,477 Posts Rep Power: 21474853	Arlo couldn’t imagine how hy had lived before Poppy. It was as though hys life began when Poppy smiled. Hy remembered how she had smiled at hym the day hys buddy had introduced hym. Hy remembered how ecstatic hy was just knowing her name. Before Poppy, hy had simply wandered aimlessly through hys life, going through the motions of living. Now, Arlo could attest to being completely present. Hy couldn’t wait for the next minute to begin while still being able to live totally, completely in the moment. A trick that was as difficult as it was impossible. Hys body ached, hys soul ached, hys heart ached, hys entire being ached and it wasn’t the flu. No, it was love. The love Arlo had found in this deep meaningful connection with the woman of hys dreams. A woman who was, coincidently, not only beautiful beyond measure, but was also as beautiful on the inside as she was on the outside. Everything Arlo had ever wanted was embodied there in Poppy. Hy looked up and glanced toward hys soul mate as she sat calmly, regally across the room. She was everything hy would ever need and everything hy could ever want, she was all the things hy had dreamed of in a partner. She was all things to hym. It never ceased to amaze hym how she could be exactly who hy wanted her to be, how everything hy ever dreamed was exactly who she was. Now if only hy could only find a way to get to know her. Then they could begin planning the wedding. __________________ The reason facts don’t change most people’s opinions is because most people don’t use facts to form their opinions. They use their opinions to form their “facts.” Neil Strauss

01-04-2012, 10:39 AM	#3
Anya Infamous Member How Do You Identify?: Lesbian non-stone femme Preferred Pronoun?: She, her Relationship Status: Committed to being good to myself Join Date: Jun 2011 Location: West Coast Posts: 8,258 My Photo Gallery Thanks: 39,306 Thanked 40,443 Times in 7,285 Posts Rep Power: 21474858	Bad, so very bad Susan reflected deeply on her life, stretching back as far as infancy, though everyone told her that she could not possibly remember back that far but she knew that she could and that everyone else was wrong about that and she laughed-a sound somewhere between a phlegm-filled, 30-year smoker and that of the organ-grinder that had mysteriously appeared on her street last week, complete with a monkey in a jaunty red-satin hat, wearing jodhpurs with bright orange suspenders, that matched her coat and she reflected on her life and thought that was good, very good, the best it ever had been; excellent as a matter of fact. She thoughtfully stared out of the dual-paned windows that she had installed last winter to keep out the cold and to lower her heating bill, watching the white crystals of frost cling to the edges of the panes and the little rivulets of water that almost appeared the same as the diamond-sparkling jewels of the tears she had shed the other day, as she buttoned up her orange, mohair coat, that looked something like Fluffy, her long-deceased cat that she had loved so much and had been crying over and she wondered if she had gotten the coat because it did remind her of all of those nights that Fluffy cuddled her in her down-filled bed, complete with down-filled duvet, down pillows and down feather bed, when she was missing her long-lost lover that used to cuddle her in bed before she was replaced by Fluffy but she reasoned, there was nothing she could do about either of them and she could always sleep with her coat, if she got really lonely. She picked up her prized Bic pen and began to chew on the well-chewed end, as she usually did when thinking hard about something-which was her custom but also because thinking was difficult for her but she did her very best and with a deeply furrowed brow, she began to pen her missive. She kept her coat on because it comforted her and helped her to think better. __________________ ~Anya~ Democracy Dies in Darkness ~Washington Post "...I'm deeply concerned by recently adopted policies which punish children for their parents’ actions ... The thought that any State would seek to deter parents by inflicting such abuse on children is unconscionable." UN Human Rights commissioner

01-04-2012, 11:01 AM	#4
SoNotHer Senior Member How Do You Identify?: Professional Sandbagger and Jenga Zumba Instructor Join Date: Sep 2011 Location: In the master control room of my world domination dreams Posts: 2,811 My Photo Gallery Thanks: 6,587 Thanked 4,734 Times in 1,409 Posts Rep Power: 21474852	Can't stop laughing... Thank you all!

11-06-2017, 10:42 PM	#6
Anya Infamous Member How Do You Identify?: Lesbian non-stone femme Preferred Pronoun?: She, her Relationship Status: Committed to being good to myself Join Date: Jun 2011 Location: West Coast Posts: 8,258 My Photo Gallery Thanks: 39,306 Thanked 40,443 Times in 7,285 Posts Rep Power: 21474858	Bumping* because surely, we must still have some very, very, bad, it is SO good, writing waiting to come out, don't we? That sentence was pretty bad... I just gave you a little push. __________________ ~Anya~ Democracy Dies in Darkness ~Washington Post "...I'm deeply concerned by recently adopted policies which punish children for their parents’ actions ... The thought that any State would seek to deter parents by inflicting such abuse on children is unconscionable." UN Human Rights commissioner

11-07-2017, 08:56 PM	#7
Kätzchen Member How Do You Identify?: As a Brick House (Femme) Relationship Status: Busy (involved with a special someone here at home) Join Date: May 2010 Location: In a small community Posts: 16,275 My Photo Gallery Thanks: 29,290 Thanked 33,637 Times in 10,729 Posts Rep Power: 21474868	After years of being the healthy individual she had always been, Maggie suddenly found herself staring at the endless bottles of prescription medication on her kitchen table. Maggie had just been released from the hospital the night before, after having an attack of the shits. In Maggie's mind, Maggie kept cursing the doctor who kept putting her on medication after medication, to get to the bottom of the continual problem of having to visit the toilet more than she ever did in her life, before the Wheel of Medication turned her life upside down. Remembering her latest fiasco of having accidentally shit her panties at the doctors office and how the stool lab came back with an less than normal outcome, Maggie complained to her doctor that he was going to find himself in a shit load of trouble if he couldn't get her on the right medication to prevent having to take a shit every hour on the hour. Unfortunately, much to Maggie's chagrin, the doctor said, "Oh, Maggie, you're just full of Shit!" Staring at the doctor, Maggie replied: "You're too late, I'm not full of shit!" ................. ............. ............. (This story is based upon an real life experience. The names of both parties are kept anonymous for the sake of anonymity) ( ) __________________ “The way someone treats you is not a reflection of your worth: It’s a reflection of their emotional capacity,” — Jillian Turecki. ”Without justice, democracy dies,” — Jess Michaels (Epstein survivor). Please join the greater efforts of everyday American’s in boycotting billionaire business and news agencies until all contents of the Epstein Files are revealed and the entire collection of corrupt officials face justice for their Un-American acts endangering us and others globally.

01-04-2012, 09:26 AM	#2
Truly Scrumptious Member How Do You Identify?: Femme Relationship Status: She's my mirror twin, my next of kin Join Date: Sep 2011 Location: Entre Lajeunesse et la sagesse Posts: 667 My Photo Gallery Thanks: 2,047 Thanked 1,757 Times in 548 Posts Rep Power: 21474851	She knew that tomcat wasn’t right in the head the day he showed up on her doorstep all mangy and hissing and carrying a dirty rag in his mouth like it was some kind of precious doll baby, but she invited him in and poured him a bowl of cream because in some way he reminded her of her momma who also wasn’t right in the head and was now serving time (and serving herself up too, to hear her tell it) for going all postal like after that “incident” down at the refinery, but she knew it wasn’t the cat’s fault and after all we all have our crosses to bear, her cross in particular being made out of clay and pipe cleaners momma had fashioned in prison arts & crafts class and which weighed about 10 pounds but which she wore around her neck dutifully even though she was developing quite a stoop.

01-04-2012, 12:14 PM	#5
Hollylane Practically Lives Here How Do You Identify?: . Preferred Pronoun?: . Relationship Status: . Join Date: Jun 2011 Location: . Posts: 11,495 My Photo Gallery Thanks: 34,694 Thanked 26,362 Times in 5,875 Posts Rep Power: 21474862	She wasn’t really very angry, though her scrunched face and pursed lips resembling something akin to a dried prune, or possibly a saladito in their constant dryness from lack of moisture, may have said otherwise to the passing stranger with the whites of their eyes showing in amazement at the fact that with this strained look that she had not yet imploded on the spot or simply had a bowel movement on the sidewalk in front of the courthouse.

01-04-2012, 02:14 PM	#9
Hollylane Practically Lives Here How Do You Identify?: . Preferred Pronoun?: . Relationship Status: . Join Date: Jun 2011 Location: . Posts: 11,495 My Photo Gallery Thanks: 34,694 Thanked 26,362 Times in 5,875 Posts Rep Power: 21474862	She licked the sour sweet taste of lime from her slack lips and frowned in consternation that she had not remembered to drink the tequila and only performed the first part and last part of the process of lick it, slam it, suck it. Perhaps this type of forgetfulness was also the reason her lover’s face had looked so confused when she forgot to remove her jeans and ended up wide eyed and floundering with her tongue stuck in the zipper. With this as food for her few and fleeting thoughts, she lightly fingered the ripped up part of her tongue that ached from the bitter experience of metal teeth and that now stung from the lime and salt combo, minus the pain killing properties of the tequila that still sat on the bar in silent mourning for the part of her brain that seemed to be missing, and for the sad loss of the last remaining brain cell that used to sing out daily in a forlorn voice "I can see for miles and miles".

01-04-2012, 02:40 PM	#10
SoNotHer Senior Member How Do You Identify?: Professional Sandbagger and Jenga Zumba Instructor Join Date: Sep 2011 Location: In the master control room of my world domination dreams Posts: 2,811 My Photo Gallery Thanks: 6,587 Thanked 4,734 Times in 1,409 Posts Rep Power: 21474852	Inventing and selling the clap on/clap off cock wasn’t all the knee-jerk-slapping, panty-twisting good time people thought it was. Since the failure of his “Dirty Dick Tricks” sex magic set, Ott wanted to make sure he thought long and hard in the excogitation phase of his new, convenient love missile. And he knew that the marketing deployment of this phallic phenomenon had to be equal to the promise of this easy, pleasy cock rocket’s red glare. No, this time, QVC and “As seen on TV” ads wouldn’t due. In fact, nothing less than a helicopter drop of flying pamphelted plastic penises would.