The Bulwer-Lytton bad writing contest pun winners
Posted: Tue Jun 30, 2009 8:35 pm
>>These are really bad!!!
>>On the Net: http://www.bulwer-lytton.com/
Winner: Vile Puns
Using her flint knife to gut the two amphibians, Kreega the Neanderthal woman created the first pair of open-toad sandals.
Greg Homer
Placerville, CA
Runner-Up
Medusa stared at the two creatures approaching her across the Piazza and, instantly recognizing them as Spanish Gorgons, attempted to stall them by greeting them in their native tongue, "Gorgons, Hola!"
Eric Davies
Dunedin, New Zealand
Dishonorable Mention
Eyeing the towering stacks of food colouring that formed the secret to his billion-dollar batik textile empire, grumpy Old Man Griffington was forced to admit that dye mounds are a churl's best friend.
Janine Beacham
Busselton, Western Australia
And From the Sci Fi category:
Runner-Up
George scratched his head in abject puzzlement as he tried to figure out where he'd parked the rocket this time in the 100-acre parking lot of Nallmart 75B, but then he remembered that a ship-boy had taken his DNA key-but which one, the kelly toned humanoid or the atmosphere-of-Rylak-hued android; scanning the horizon, he at last turned to Babs and asked "how green was my valet"?
>>On the Net: http://www.bulwer-lytton.com/
Winner: Vile Puns
Using her flint knife to gut the two amphibians, Kreega the Neanderthal woman created the first pair of open-toad sandals.
Greg Homer
Placerville, CA
Runner-Up
Medusa stared at the two creatures approaching her across the Piazza and, instantly recognizing them as Spanish Gorgons, attempted to stall them by greeting them in their native tongue, "Gorgons, Hola!"
Eric Davies
Dunedin, New Zealand
Dishonorable Mention
Eyeing the towering stacks of food colouring that formed the secret to his billion-dollar batik textile empire, grumpy Old Man Griffington was forced to admit that dye mounds are a churl's best friend.
Janine Beacham
Busselton, Western Australia
And From the Sci Fi category:
Runner-Up
George scratched his head in abject puzzlement as he tried to figure out where he'd parked the rocket this time in the 100-acre parking lot of Nallmart 75B, but then he remembered that a ship-boy had taken his DNA key-but which one, the kelly toned humanoid or the atmosphere-of-Rylak-hued android; scanning the horizon, he at last turned to Babs and asked "how green was my valet"?