Bullwinchester-Lytton worst first lines contest.

[eloise_bright]

I'm emerging from radio silence once again. RL is still very stressful, and I'm not able to get online during the week at all. I do manage to catch up at the weekend, watch SPN and read what fic I can.

This weekend I logged on to find that win_non_con is running this weekend, and that the wonderful Bullwinchester-Lytton Worst First Lines contest is back for

Comments

[saberivojo]

Oh jeeze. I think I may need to go over and check the others out!

I love the John voice one, because that voice? Aggghh. Like "honey drizzed over hot gravel!"

Loved this!

[eloise_bright]

*grins* Thanks. This is so much fun, because I get to switch off my internal bullshit censor, and write whatever I like.

[yasminke]

That first one made me snort.

Hope RL gets easier for you and that you can come back and visit more often.

[eloise_bright]

Glad to be of service.

I don't know when it's going to get better. *sigh* I alternate between tired, wired and completely exhausted. But doing these first lines has been oddly therapeutic.

[yasminke]

::hugs::

I know how you feel about those three "moods". But it will get better, promise. Trust me -- I'm a doctor.

(G-d I love using that line.)

[wicked_g]

"Dean," John Winchester said, voice clotted thick with poorly suppressed emotion, his vowels round and deep as a distant echo from an only recently discovered underground cavern, in contrast with his consonants, which were little more than a husky whisper, dribbling from his incontinent lips like honey drizzled over hot gravel, rich, golden and ever so slightly sticky; "Pass me the wrench, will ya?"

I honestly cannot stop reading that. Again and again and again. Oh, sir...