Laura Stone (stoney321) wrote,
Laura Stone
stoney321

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So bad. SO. BAD. (I love it.)

I really shouldn't be posting. Or reading bad!fic. I have laundry to do, a trip to prepare for, a bagel to eat. But the bagel is set aside. I would suggest that if you click the cut-tag, you put aside your food, too.



In a horrible fic (not funny-ha ha horrible, but oh my god, who failed you in life?? horrible) sperm somehow made a woman's boobs grow.
"Thanks for my boob medicine" she replied.

Ladies, stop eating those carrots! Now I imagine a bunch of flat chested girls marching on a prison chanting "We must! We must! We must increase our bust!" YOU'RE DOING IT WRONG. (Um, it's a non-con fic, so no link. It's terrible.)

We leave that and go to the Magic Red Shoes Diary!


Fun With Spelling!
"a magical pair of high heels allows a man to become an anatomically correct female on an elective part time bases" (The other time it's a football field. I'll give you a second on that one.)


Fun With Names!
"Zebulon and Valentina Castigetta" (Listen: Friends don't let friends read Anne Rice.)


Did Sean Connery Write This?
"For instances, even as the recipient dons the heels, the shocks he is wearing will be magically transmogrify into nylons anklets"

Aside from the Conneryesque "shocks" what is the DEAL with the s's every where? Oh, and the crappy story telling. But mostly the s's. You know what? I want to rewrite that as if Connery DID write it. (Thanks to cherusha for creating Connery shpeak.)

"For inshtanchesh, even ash the reshipent donsh the heelsh, the shocksh he is wearing will be magically transhmogrified into nylonsh ankletsh. Wait... Trebeck? Ish thish your idea of a joke? Men don't wear ankletsh. They wear kiltsh and nothing underneath. Jusht ashk your mother. She got an eye full lasht night!"


This magic heels story goes on and on (and on and on) just SETTING UP THE PREMISE. If you can stomach that much crap, have at it.


How about Battle of the Butches! (Good lord. Can't we women get any dignity in the fic world??)

In the "most enticing bar scene ever" category:
"it's filthy and run-down. Looks like it hasn't been updated (or cleaned) since the 1950's. It probably hasn't been. The clientele [sic] is mostly old homeless looking people." (Wookin puh nub!! <-- dear god, please know what I'm talking about. And let me tell you, when I'm looking for a piece of ass, I first turn to the homeless. Because come on: you can TEWTALLY get them to come home with you. I mean, where else are they going to go?


In the "that's a new way to describe it" category:
"our tits, like metal thimbles" Tits?? Or... did you mean nipples? (I mean, there is a difference. Those are some really poorly formed boobs, otherwise. She needs some boob medicine!)


"No, really. Emoticons don't belong in stories, people" category
"my soaking over-wet flesh hole ;)" (Flesh hole? As opposed to your silk hole? Metal hole? Shoe hole? (wink!) Everyone should use emoticons in fic from now on, maybe.)

"He slapped my face, saying 'Bitch, don't lie to me!" :( I cried. ;_; Then he was all >:( and I was like @_@ and we go o_0 then the cat came in and was like >.< THE. END." <-- pls nominate me for all the awards ever.



You've seen detachable penises, now there's a detachable clit!
"My hips are bucking wildly, trying to release my clit" (Be free, mighty clitoris! Free like the wind! As free as an empty wrapper on the breeze!Or like a piece of chewed up bubble gum spat upon the air! Ptooey!)


Eww.
"sticky cunt" (Why is it "sticky?" Did you shove a fly strip up there? Glue? Perhaps a shower is in order, filth pot. Maybe her clit was in charge of the showering schedule...)


In this story, the "lovers" are trying to shove ALL of a 15 inch dildo in this girls sticky, clit-free flesh hole. We get this gem: "suddenly it feels like the dildo has hit a barrier, almost as if another wall of muscle deep within my pussy is unwilling to let it pass through"

I BELIEVE WE CALL THAT THE CERVIX. Let's learn our anatomy, please.



Fun With Modifiers!
"She was just about to slap her forehead, when it knocked on the door." (I wonder if her eyes joined the other girl's clit?) This is also one of my favorite punchlines to the "two ___ walk into a bar." joke. The punchline: "Which is dumb, because you'd think the second ___ would duck." Ba dum bum ching!



WHAT AM I LOOKING AT HERE?!?
"finaly [sic] charlie's knot entered her cunt and began to swell up until it was the size of a large orange."

KNOT. Knob, maybe? Still: whut. And I don't know about you gals, but I see a navel orange and I get HAWT. Mandarin oranges don't do it for me. Tangerines? Sure, I get a tingle. But LARGE oranges? Mmmm. Don't even get me started on grapefruit. *fans self* (But when I try and jam those in, it's almost as if another wall of muscle is unwilling to let it pass through. I believe we call that muscle a BRAIN.)*

*I do realize that brains are not actually muscles.



I think the author's brain broke before mine could: "Moss, Irish Cream, my cream, sun, she, Irish Cream, my cream, sun,she, my cream, sun, she, my cream, sun, she, sun, she, she, she...everything's tumbling in my head... she, she..."

It's almost jazz. *finger-snap applause* More skeebity-scat!
"he shows us the motor yacht that I rented. Something around 24 feet with a large comfy-padded upper sun deck. Life's a swamp."

1. motor yacht? Look, if it doesn't have a motor, it's a SAIL boat. Or a gondola. And I'm thinking a gondola is pretty darned inefficient on the ocean. (That's a loooong pole. [insert dick joke here])
2. Also, life is a SWAMP?! Hot, sticky, full of alligators and Spanish moss? (Moss, Irish Cream, my cream, sun, she....)

"She had deck shoes on and her feet are still sweaty. I press my lips against her toes. Her sweaty toes." (Okay, so for this writer, life really is a swamp. Blech.)

"Thinking I had enough of the deck shoe taste in my mouth" YOU AND ME BOTH, SISTER.


Did a weird portal open? "I can see her trembling and stiletto's disappearing inside your her"

From now on, when fic gets too weird to even follow along, I'll just chant to myself, Moss, Irish Cream, my cream, sun she. But in a deep Buddhist monk voice. I should get a didgiridoo mp3 to play, too.


"Her wet naval"

If it's not wet, it's an Air Force. (I'll give you a second for that one, too.)



*HEAD DESK*
"I dare to push my finger into her anus. Softly, so I won't scare her away" (Shh, shh, little anus! I won't hurt you! I need someone to give me a Bad Touch doll so I can start the process of healing from this damn story.)

"She's shaking while my finger in her bum is doing everything I can imagine." (Wait. No wonder the anus was afraid! Everything? Because... I don't know about you, but I can imagine A LOT. And most, say... 99.9999999% of what I can imagine has NO BUSINESS being associated with a fraidy-anus. )

I'm just saying. Now, let's all get into lotus position and start our healing chant, "Mmmmmossirishcreamuhcreamsunsheeeeeeeee. Mmmmmmosssirishcreammahcreamsunsheeeeeeeee."

*lights Joss sticks*
Tags: bad!(great)fic
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