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Booty Pageant
Apr 20, 2012
im only half a man posting through a straw

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Kuato
Feb 25, 2005

"I CAN'T BELIEVE I ATE THE WHOLE THING"
Buglord
dint no OP new how to red. u learn sum thing knew every Daye!

Riot Bimbo
Dec 28, 2006


Gilganixon posted:

I read Something Awful. I often find myself skipping through tons of effort posts and shitposts. Typically, the writing sucks. I want recommendations for posts on this forum (or whatever forums I can access) with well-written, coherent stories. I won't post this thread in the Creative Convention forum because I've convinced myself that the majority of the 'experts' there have wildly lovely opinions. What makes me think I'll have better luck in GBS? I dunno. Reply to this thread, idiot.

I wrote some bernie sanders fanfic thats actually really good in my own egomaniacal estimation.

Putty
Mar 21, 2013

HOOKED ON THE BROTHERS
can u write some bernie sanders x Undertale fanfics for me please

Riot Bimbo
Dec 28, 2006


Putty posted:

can u write some bernie sanders x Undertale fanfics for me please

Um, let me think about it. Ill need to look up undertale and get intoxicated but i might be able to crank summin out

Nanomashoes
Aug 18, 2012

Adaptive Systems was the only poster with good writing:

quote:

I've spent years of my life without a single friend, I've gone months on end without speaking a word to any save cashiers, and when I have been blessed with friends, I've had to watch too many of them, saints all, die in terrible torment never having once been loved. There was Shawna, the first girl who had ever been nice to me, raped by a mentally retarded man in her care, who turned to drink and fell down a flight of basement stairs, splitting open her skull, and yet somehow persisted for an hour or more in a half-dead state, only being found by her fellow tenants when they mistook her death rattle for the mewing of a cat, and went to investigate. And there was Christopher, the unbelievably sweet and kind and optimistic man, never once touched by a member of the opposite sex, Down's afflicted, dying at 35, but seeming so much younger, when the malformed heart he carried with him from the womb one day decided to rip itself apart and kill him. Oh, and Ben, who was horribly abused by his father, and I remember him coming into school, his cheek perforated by five neatly-spaced bleeding holes left from the place that his father had stabbed him with the fork he'd been using to eat his breakfast. Oh, Ben, Ben died unloved; he was a very, very ugly boy; slightly on the heavy side, stupid-looking, horrible acne. He died of a ( I think accidental) heroin overdose, at nineteen. He had never been loved. He had never been kissed. I remember finding him, several hours dead, and calling 911, and waiting outside the apartment, and noticing the imprints of his boots in the snow, left from his late-night return from his illegal job at the local bar, and I remember going completely loving insane, because Ben was lying dead in bed upstairs, and here were his footprints in the snow, and somehow the footprints were still alive to me, and I wanted, I wanted, I don't know what the gently caress I wanted to do, I wanted to loving save the footprints, I wanted to tell the police to surround them with their yellow tape, I wanted to take loving plaster casts of them, and it was so beyond hopelessness, and it was snowing anyway, and Ben's footprints were being filled in by the snow, and it seemed to be a sign that was all we were, snow covered by snow, and I didn't cry, but I? I laughed and snorted, and spit. I couldn't stop spitting and snorting... and Ben was on the gurney, and that was all of him, gone.

quote:

I shall be utterly truthful in every respect and summarize the existential dilemma presented by one’s first fist fight.
The instant you become aware that are you inescapably confronted with an imminent, intentional act of severe physical violence, an animal fear exactly like the kind kittens feel knowing they are about to be maliciously drowned builds within you towards an unbearable crescendo. The instant his fist strikes you square in the nose, the fear breaks utterly and you become suddenly aware that you are not dead. In the instant that follows, you come to know that not only are you not dead, but you alone, among all the men that have lived, cannot be killed by any means whatsoever. Then you see his head snap back savagely as if pulled by a hangmen’s noose around his neck, and you realize that you did that, and you are overcome with a feeling that is simultaneously profoundly healthy and deeply obscene, like the first time you watched your cock slide into a woman’s sloppy pussy and felt the waves of euphoria and nausea cascade over your body and until you know that you were born a living god, for whom the satisfaction of all desires is the greatest possible moral good.

Someone made a pdf of his best posts here.

Winifred Madgers
Feb 12, 2002

Darth123123 posted:

I never understood the interest in that zybourne thing. Maybe I'm dumb. Probably

I'm not sure anyone can really explain it to you in a way that makes it funny - you know what happens when you have to explain a joke. To some people that does make it funnier because of the awkardness and ruination of the comedic timing, which can be a source of humor all its own, but if it's not your "thing" then it just falls flat. Zybourne Clock works the same way....

Anyway it seems it was brendle, although I still remember Ingwit as a good writer for probably something else. I don't have archives so I can't verify these threads are still accessible, and I seem to have lost my local copies of the first two, but these should be the links.

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

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Microwaves Mom
Nov 8, 2015

by zen death robot
I'd help OP, but man, I have a massive hangover right now.

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