Purple prose

[mesila]

"The first second that this third-rate rep from the fourth estate cracked a fifth of old Scotch, my sixth sense told me that seventh heaven was as close as an eighth note from Beethoven's Ninth Symphony; so, nervous as a tenth grader drowning in eleventh-hour cramming, I swept her into my longing arms humming "The Twelfth of Never," and thus I got lucky on Friday the thirteenth."

-culled from a list of prizewinners of a terrible prose contest