untitled

by Firestarter

Published June 1, 2005

In Old awful stuff

Comments & reviews · 3
User avatar
Sam
Comment
Sam commented Comment · Jun 3, 2005

to me it sounded something like this...

can I f-ing get an f-ing pepsi right about f-ing now?

HA! it's a world record...well, I do have to admit we talk like that on the bus, but I don't think you want to portray a cramped coach-full of neurotic 12-year-olds. If you're going to write a piece called The Life of A School-Bus Driver, let me know and I'll help you...

User avatar
Firestarter
Comment
Firestarter commented Comment · Jun 3, 2005

Do people not swear in America or something? I was trying to portray a realistic English situation...and well....this is how people talk around me.

User avatar
Sam
Review
Sam wrote a review Review · Jun 3, 2005

Yes, I read the rating, but still. For the first section, it seemed like you were playing that good ol' childhood game:

HOW MANY TIMES CAN I USE THE SAME BIT OF PROFANITY IN A SENTENCE UNTIL EVERYBODY GETS SICK OF IT AND VOTES YOU OFF THE ISLAND?

Oh, the good old days...

Yeah, you might want someone older's opinion, but that's what I thought.

As for the second section...

I enjoyed it, but the point of view was messed up. Example:

'Kayle caresses the edges that appear slightly serated, but to the touch are smooth and cool. Is it sad that I am attempting to relate to a plant?'

Are you (the writer) supposed to be the immortal, insanely annoying narrator that picks at people's every move? If not, you may want to go through the section and pick out the awkward spots like these.

However, I like stuff that's written in first person, happening-right-now kinds of things. It's fun, ain't it?

But Kayle's a writer...I think we're all slightly biased about him, don't you think?



Daddy Long Legs are more closely related to crabs than spiders and somehow the idea of crablike creatures with spider legs that have escaped the entrappings of the primordial sea and now crawl over land and can walk up and down walls and ceilings creeps me more than I can adequately describe.
— Snoink