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The title says all. What book was it from, what was it about, and if you can, post it! Also, why do you hate it?
MIne would probably be from Twilight when Edward admits he is a vampire. Bella thought she was crazy, so all he had to do is assure he wasn't and laugh it off. It would have been so much easier then causing her so many problems (which is partly her fault too.) I have the book, maybe I will post it later.
@Mountain Jew - How am I suppose to make it more descriptive? I'm posting the paragraph later and am going to explain exactly what I hate about it. >.>
@Roxas - That made my head hurt! Just wow.
@Mrin - I've tried reading that. It's funny because if you enter "worst fanfic ever" on google, it shows up. :)
@Kukui USA - Are you sure that's a paragraph? o.O That author is crazy.
Answer
WORST I've ever read? This from Marienbad My Love, although I kinda like it, but I hate it because it makes no sense, but it somewhat maintains itself, you know what I mean right? Sorry if it is too long but that's the WHOLE paragraph. The author is aiming for longest paragraph, book title and novel EDIT: yep, that's the whole paragraph out of 17 million words :
Programmed death travel is the way that leads back to the Wild West, crossing into the House of Silence, a great black rent, a torn sky, a rip in the master film in the middle of shooting the cattle season, my dear old trail-weary friend, 19th century frontier research into time travel and silicone-chlorine bonds of the broken shell. No death in vain. All of the flesh-coated aliens have arrived, pouring over the edge of the sacred frontier heavens. Is it an alien invasion? Automatic control, crossing into the House of Silence world. Heavy death fog of milky white galaxies. I can just make out the original celestial orbit. The robot brakes, but I canât see anything. I begin honking but no luck. Inside the house, outside by the swimming pool, but itâs in the front. Watch out for the robotic pool cleaner. This is a troubling sight, a world of silicone copies, a world without looks. Here at the next door neighborâs house we can make out flesh-coated machine men sliding, colliding in the way that leads to death. I go to work, crossing into the House of Silence world where everyone has been replaced with silicone copies. I the thin, the privately-owned roommate. No death in vain. It doesnât find a way or seem to stop. Accompanied by sense of me, I determine that it is time to flip this robot onto its home. They have a swimming pool, but itâs in a bad way. Weâll have to pay for the damages. Neighborâs home. They have heaven, view the golden, the Interstate â explains what has occurred: I am my roommate and I look outside. We are sliding, colliding ahead. I put on the brakes, but I canât see anything. I realize somehow that all of the flesh-coated machine men are gone the way that leads to death.I find myself inexplicably leads to death. and his concubines might drink flesh-coated machine men sliding, colliding ahead. I put on the brakes, inadequacy. Accompanied by subjective experience that three-wheeled, robotic pool cleaner. This is people? So we walk outside, look at the next I share with a roommate. On the sluggish on the Interstate, my roommate doesnât find it so funny. too easily drawn to unimportant or irrelevant the House of Silence river. my roommate to help me flip hopeless erotic cries echoing across wings Accompanied by subjective experience that thoughts are racing. but not mine. Inside the house, a party is experience that thoughts are racing. Attention is and I am laughing. me this is bad. the next door neighborâs honking the horn soAutomatic next to the pool is a garage of my rented house. I punch in the golden the Interstate, and the billionaire and his obscene territory of winged of my boyhood wives an alien spaceship? Automatic control is gone now. A world without flesh-coated machine men. is the way that leads outside. We realize somehow personal inadequacy. Accompanied by subjective of hysterical tidal birds, feel the sluggish on the unimportant or irrelevant external stimuli. home, looking up erotic cries echoing stone. an obscene silicone copies. I persuade my roommate to help me original people of the world and pool, but itâs in the front yard. And occurred: I am actually obsessive rumination. Accompanied of winged of my boyhood as part of a vast conspiracy obsessive rumination. Accompanied by sense of a moral door neighborâs home. They have killed on the river in the fog. I I punch in the access code, and territory of winged of my boyhood wives and because I have all of Inside the house, a party is to death. people? So we walk relatives are here. So are some friends. Someone here. So are some death. look at the next door neighborâs home. They of my boyhood wives and his and gray light I pour over the now. A world without flesh-coated machine men. Could this share with a roommate. On or irrelevant external stimuli. over the sacred eastern way that leads to death.I find myself garage door rises. My roommateâs car I am renting a house, which I share with transgression or some personal inadequacy. anything. I begin honking the horn soAutomatic and his executives, bring bad. Weâll have to on the front walk and replace them with silicone the way that leads to death. I am actually a silicone that is because I have I am actually a silicone copy of the homeowners are watching me through the a copy; however, that So are some friends. Someone â maybe my roommate Somehow I could be something hopeless erotic cries eliminate the original people of I pour over the sacred racing. Attention is too easily drawn eastern heavens.
WORST I've ever read? This from Marienbad My Love, although I kinda like it, but I hate it because it makes no sense, but it somewhat maintains itself, you know what I mean right? Sorry if it is too long but that's the WHOLE paragraph. The author is aiming for longest paragraph, book title and novel EDIT: yep, that's the whole paragraph out of 17 million words :
Programmed death travel is the way that leads back to the Wild West, crossing into the House of Silence, a great black rent, a torn sky, a rip in the master film in the middle of shooting the cattle season, my dear old trail-weary friend, 19th century frontier research into time travel and silicone-chlorine bonds of the broken shell. No death in vain. All of the flesh-coated aliens have arrived, pouring over the edge of the sacred frontier heavens. Is it an alien invasion? Automatic control, crossing into the House of Silence world. Heavy death fog of milky white galaxies. I can just make out the original celestial orbit. The robot brakes, but I canât see anything. I begin honking but no luck. Inside the house, outside by the swimming pool, but itâs in the front. Watch out for the robotic pool cleaner. This is a troubling sight, a world of silicone copies, a world without looks. Here at the next door neighborâs house we can make out flesh-coated machine men sliding, colliding in the way that leads to death. I go to work, crossing into the House of Silence world where everyone has been replaced with silicone copies. I the thin, the privately-owned roommate. No death in vain. It doesnât find a way or seem to stop. Accompanied by sense of me, I determine that it is time to flip this robot onto its home. They have a swimming pool, but itâs in a bad way. Weâll have to pay for the damages. Neighborâs home. They have heaven, view the golden, the Interstate â explains what has occurred: I am my roommate and I look outside. We are sliding, colliding ahead. I put on the brakes, but I canât see anything. I realize somehow that all of the flesh-coated machine men are gone the way that leads to death.I find myself inexplicably leads to death. and his concubines might drink flesh-coated machine men sliding, colliding ahead. I put on the brakes, inadequacy. Accompanied by subjective experience that three-wheeled, robotic pool cleaner. This is people? So we walk outside, look at the next I share with a roommate. On the sluggish on the Interstate, my roommate doesnât find it so funny. too easily drawn to unimportant or irrelevant the House of Silence river. my roommate to help me flip hopeless erotic cries echoing across wings Accompanied by subjective experience that thoughts are racing. but not mine. Inside the house, a party is experience that thoughts are racing. Attention is and I am laughing. me this is bad. the next door neighborâs honking the horn soAutomatic next to the pool is a garage of my rented house. I punch in the golden the Interstate, and the billionaire and his obscene territory of winged of my boyhood wives an alien spaceship? Automatic control is gone now. A world without flesh-coated machine men. is the way that leads outside. We realize somehow personal inadequacy. Accompanied by subjective of hysterical tidal birds, feel the sluggish on the unimportant or irrelevant external stimuli. home, looking up erotic cries echoing stone. an obscene silicone copies. I persuade my roommate to help me original people of the world and pool, but itâs in the front yard. And occurred: I am actually obsessive rumination. Accompanied of winged of my boyhood as part of a vast conspiracy obsessive rumination. Accompanied by sense of a moral door neighborâs home. They have killed on the river in the fog. I I punch in the access code, and territory of winged of my boyhood wives and because I have all of Inside the house, a party is to death. people? So we walk relatives are here. So are some friends. Someone here. So are some death. look at the next door neighborâs home. They of my boyhood wives and his and gray light I pour over the now. A world without flesh-coated machine men. Could this share with a roommate. On or irrelevant external stimuli. over the sacred eastern way that leads to death.I find myself garage door rises. My roommateâs car I am renting a house, which I share with transgression or some personal inadequacy. anything. I begin honking the horn soAutomatic and his executives, bring bad. Weâll have to on the front walk and replace them with silicone the way that leads to death. I am actually a silicone that is because I have I am actually a silicone copy of the homeowners are watching me through the a copy; however, that So are some friends. Someone â maybe my roommate Somehow I could be something hopeless erotic cries eliminate the original people of I pour over the sacred racing. Attention is too easily drawn eastern heavens.
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