Because I always keep my promises, here are some of the best sentences submitted to me in final papers for my fiction class. These kids aren’t quite the miserable, neurotic onanists I have had in previous courses, but they’re good for a chuckle or two. No limoges toilets this time, unfortunately.
Although they fail to be truly funny, mostly achieving the status of "depressing dullard" at best, this is all I’ve got. I have learnt something from them, though, and have managed to generate a lengthy-looking post comprised mainly of the writings of others. Maybe one day I can reach the soaring heights of plagiarism girl and not have to do my own compositions at all!
And without further ado, please enjoy Vague’s favorite lamebrain slouches:
On the Importance of Confusing the Audience: Well Done, You!
Re-evoking the theme of falsehood hiding under happiness is important here in showing the audience that little is as it seems.
On page 72 the number three is repeated so many times within two paragraphs that it’s hard to see much else in the story!
Her personality confuses V on how Sebastian could of ever loved a women like her.
On Women in Literature and Film: Multifaceted Skanks
Unlike other books, this book has many female characters.
There are major and minor female characters in [this film].
Dorothy is a woman of different sides.
I think this is about the most skanky thing a girl could say, especially considering she is married, with a child, and having sex with two different men, one of which is a stranger and a criminal, the other of which is a psycho murderer.
Incidentally, this begs the question, why do female students think "The Role of Women in X" is an interesting topic? What provincial schoolmarm made the fatal error of implying that anyone cares? I certainly don’t care, and I myself am a woman. There is a reason I never attempt to discuss this subject in class people; take a hint. Vague. Does. Not. Give. A. Shit.
Having read this post, I am left to ponder what my teachers really think of the work I submit and if they mask their original thoughts of, “this is a load of crap,” with encouraging statements like, “try digging a little deeper,” or “you have potential.” ;)
Slouch, excellent word. From Caddyshack …
Judge Smails: “How about partnering me, Ty. You know I’m no slouch.”
Ty: “Don’t sell yourself short, Judge, you’re a tremendous slouch.”
Alisha: Yes, well, I always go for “try to challenge yourself more.” It’s honest, but, I feel, not terribly brutal. Of course, the “not terribly brutal” quality gets lost when my pink correction pen starts tearing holes in the paper.
Tony: Glad I am now officially using old geezer insults! Further proof I am really getting old–but they do slouch around, half falling out of their desks–you know the pose I mean.
I can’t keep saying “lummox” and “oaf” and “chowderhead” all the time, now can I? Let me know if y’all have any cutting suggestions.
Fathead, pinhead, halfwit and imbo often fit the bill.
Imbo–we don’t say that one here, but, assuming it’s short for imbecile, I could wage a strategy to bring it to Zembla. Will begin as soon as the new term starts!
(Please let me know if it means something other than what I think)
If someone called me a “chowderhead” I wouldn’t know whether to take it as a compliment or an insult:
“Oi! Your head resembles a bowl of soup!”
“Yeah? Well you’re just fucking weird. Go away.”
Yep. Imbo is an imbecile.
i get way more personal in my greek-saturated environment: see: bow-head, sorostitute, frat brat, theta-head, etc. this could go on forever.
gamma-gamma-who gives a shit! ha, you thought i was gonna type ‘damna’. not there yet! yet, damnit!
Hungbunny: It’s weird all right. It makes me think the person’s brain is made up of a rich creamy New England style chowder chock full of delicious clams and just a whisper of hickory. Mmmm…clammy. Which in turn reminds me of a Simpsons episode, as so many things eventually do.
Tony: Ok, game’s on. I am introducing imbo starting today. I’ll let you know how it progresses.
Clarabella: My high school, renowned for it’s social-clubby goodness, had one ironically named “I Tappa Keg.” How effing clever. I feel your pain.
If things were to get personal over here I’d have to call them all stinky hippies and cracked-out meth heads…or (*retch*) Business Majors–only slightly worse thatn Journalism Majors, I’m afraid.
i was expacting somthign abot thai curancy. bumar.
er. oops. thot tihs was this oane. not my day.