It has been a while since I've written any fiction. Trouble is, I tend to lose interest after the first sentence or so. But then I heard about this contest where that's all that matters: one terrible first sentence!

How perfect for me! Let's start with Mystery:

The dame that walked through the door of my detective agency was farm fresh from her apple cheeks to her straw colored hair, but her troubles were as rotten as the cheese in the back of my refrigerator: smelly, just a little hairy, and hard to get rid of.

Who writes worse than me? No one, I tells ya, no one! WhooLoo!

And here is another Bulwer-Lytton entry I just thought up today:

"I told them to get rid of August," the super handsome genius Whigle murmured as he sneaked out of the kitchen to throw up in the living room, all the while realizing that what with everyone else puking too and Maebe at the emergency vet that no one would probably even notice one more pile of vomit on the floor.

Oh, wait. Turns out that it is not fiction. Too bad.

Thank goodness August is nearly over.