I thought this was great! I, personally, would need much more imagination to come up with a better one!

SAN JOSE, Calif. (AP) - Sera Kirk was strolling through the countryside, enjoying the sunshine, when a furry little dog - a Pomeranian - barged out of a hedge and began yipping at her feet. She quieted the animal and resumed her walk, but inspiration had struck. The tiny dog formed the basis of her winning entry Monday in the 20th annual Bulwer-Lytton Fiction Contest - given to the writer who can come up with the worst beginning to an imaginary novel. Kirk, a 44-year-old legal secretary in Vancouver, British Columbia, took the honor with the following sentence: "A small assortment of astonishingly loud brass instruments raced each other lustily to the respective ends of their distinct musical choices as the gates flew open to release a torrent of tawny fur comprised of angry yapping bullets that nipped at Desdemona's ankles, causing her to reflect once again (as blood filled her sneakers and she fought her way through the panicking crowd) that the annual Running of the Pomeranians in Liechtenstein was a stupid idea."

Oh my! That IS awful!
It deserves an award for it's awfulness!

Great post! Thanks for sharing it with us!

I am a huge fan of the Bulwer-Lytton contest.

If you enjoyed this year's winning entry, you might want to have even more fun at the official website:
http://www.bulwer-lytton.com/

And here's a link to this years winners in all of the different categories. (of which there are many)
http://www.sjsu.edu/depts/english/2001.htm

From today's Martinsville Bulletin...

http://www.martinsvillebulletin.com

Susan B. Felker has raised bad writing to an art form -- and won acclaim for it.

The 53-year-old writer's opening line for a novel reads like the work of a Bohemian disciple of Timothy Leary:

Bayard Wingate sat in his Biloxi office, softly repeating the Southern pronunciation of his name, which no one at Yale had gotten right, Northerners being congenitally unable to say his first name correctly because the art of slurring the letter 'y' in a flourish of the soft palate so that it did not demarcate a second syllable but rather slid into an elision, along with the knowledge that the second syllable of his last name was pronounced 'git,' as one would exhort a stray dog to depart, formed part of a deep pool of consciousness alien to those born north of the Mason-Dixon line.

Huh?

For that gem, Felker was awarded a "Dishonorable Mention" in the 2001 Bulwer-Lytton Fiction Contest. The internationally acclaimed contest -- which draws thousands of entries each year and is sponsored by the English Department of San Jose State University -- challenges entrants to compose the opening sentence to the worst of all possible novels.

E-mailed notice of her winning selection on July 6, Felker jested with a smile of accomplishment, "I never expected to get the 'dishonorable mention.' I'm incredibly dishonored and unflattered."

From some 10,000 entries, Felker, of the Virginia Museum of Natural History, was one of 30 people selected for literary ignominy.

Susan B. Felker has raised bad writing to an art form -- and won acclaim for it.

The 53-year-old writer's opening line for a novel reads like the work of a Bohemian disciple of Timothy Leary:

Bayard Wingate sat in his Biloxi office, softly repeating the Southern pronunciation of his name, which no one at Yale had gotten right, Northerners being congenitally unable to say his first name correctly because the art of slurring the letter 'y' in a flourish of the soft palate so that it did not demarcate a second syllable but rather slid into an elision, along with the knowledge that the second syllable of his last name was pronounced 'git,' as one would exhort a stray dog to depart, formed part of a deep pool of consciousness alien to those born north of the Mason-Dixon line.

Huh?

For that gem, Felker was awarded a "Dishonorable Mention" in the 2001 Bulwer-Lytton Fiction Contest. The internationally acclaimed contest -- which draws thousands of entries each year and is sponsored by the English Department of San Jose State University -- challenges entrants to compose the opening sentence to the worst of all possible novels.

E-mailed notice of her winning selection on July 6, Felker jested with a smile of accomplishment, "I never expected to get the 'dishonorable mention.' I'm incredibly dishonored and unflattered."

From some 10,000 entries, Felker, of the Virginia Museum of Natural History, was one of 30 people selected for literary ignominy.

Susan B. Felker has raised bad writing to an art form -- and won acclaim for it.

The 53-year-old writer's opening line for a novel reads like the work of a Bohemian disciple of Timothy Leary:

Bayard Wingate sat in his Biloxi office, softly repeating the Southern pronunciation of his name, which no one at Yale had gotten right, Northerners being congenitally unable to say his first name correctly because the art of slurring the letter 'y' in a flourish of the soft palate so that it did not demarcate a second syllable but rather slid into an elision, along with the knowledge that the second syllable of his last name was pronounced 'git,' as one would exhort a stray dog to depart, formed part of a deep pool of consciousness alien to those born north of the Mason-Dixon line.

Huh?

For that gem, Felker was awarded a "Dishonorable Mention" in the 2001 Bulwer-Lytton Fiction Contest. The internationally acclaimed contest -- which draws thousands of entries each year and is sponsored by the English Department of San Jose State University -- challenges entrants to compose the opening sentence to the worst of all possible novels.

E-mailed notice of her winning selection on July 6, Felker jested with a smile of accomplishment, "I never expected to get the 'dishonorable mention.' I'm incredibly dishonored and unflattered."

From some 10,000 entries, Felker, of the Virginia Museum of Natural History, was one of 30 people selected for literary ignominy.