Unutterably Silly Memorable FIRST SENTENCES - Only Yours, please

[Dr. Drib]

It was a day like any other day, except it was Thursday.


Don

[Steven Lyle Jordan]

He awoke to rain... as he realized he had, on every Wednesday morning, for the past seven weeks now; he really needed to remember to call the Weather Management Bureau and have them put a bit more "forced spontaneity" into their programs.

[GeoffC]

Whenever he awoke, it was always to the sound of something silent; as in the silence that always inhabits the deepest forests and the calmest deserts, when nobody is around to listen (if they could), and not to be confused with the lambs before the slaughter, because that would be the silence before the screams; and we can't have that, since this is a family show for those without nervous dispositions and plenty of free time to contribute inanities galore to the sentence of serving within MR and joining its senient beings.....(note these are not full stops)....in a wide merry-go-round that can transcend all known (and unknown) topics of joyous celebration of life and chocolate. (that's a full stop)

[Dr. Drib]

Ah, yes, I remember the event as if it happened only yesterday, how we fondly danced naked in the garden among the vegetables, my Betsy-Lou and I, our pale buttocks swinging back and forth amicably like jello in the hazy moonlight as the fog drifted in from the bay, our panting breath sounding in rhythm to the foghorn that bellowed pleasingly in the field next to our little house, while Georgette, our pet poodle, yipped frantically about the garden, her sharp little teeth and high-pitched yelps seemingly in concert with the ribald noises that floated in from the tavern across the bay as we continued to dance naked, our 96 year-old bodies sagging in the most inappropriate places as we cavorted amongst the carrots and beets, the tomatoes and turnips, our arms moving with unaccustomed alacrity and uncommon glee until, at last, Betsy-Lou tripped and fell into a hedge full of turnips, but was unhurt, as she beckoned to me with a cackle of joyful playfulness and open arms to come join her, and I did.



Don

[Taylor514ce]

Doc, is that the opening sentence from the classic, "Love in the Time of Cauliflower?"

[Steven Lyle Jordan]

Things would never have gotten so out-of-hand, if Sarah hadn't grabbed the pickle from Amy's salad, still dripping from ranch dressing, and bounced it off my head.

[Dr. Drib]

Originally Posted by Taylor514ce

Doc, is that the opening sentence from the classic, "Love in the Time of Cauliflower?"

If only Gabriel Garcia Marquez would write that sequel.

[Dr. Drib]

War can be hell, he thought, as he marshaled his men out of the bunker, saying all the while: “Please, men, let’s go this way” and, “Careful of that gnarled root there Gregson…yeah the one close to your left boot; you don't want to twist your ankle,” and “No, George – doggone it, George, you’re going in the wrong direction,” and “No, Bartley, I promise I won’t tell anyone what you did to Simmons,” and “Come one, guys, please let’s go over that hill there,” he said and, finally: “It’s only a fingernail, Smyth, it’ll heal in time…I promise.”


Don

[Steven Lyle Jordan]

The computer opened by singing "Daisy"; something the programmer, a geek from way back, thought (in his geekish way) to be nose-milk-squirtingly hilarious, but to those who remembered the loss of life and capital generated by the last such computer to sing that particular song, the effect created was quite the opposite, and soon scribbles were being made in personal tablets, at least three of which would be instrumental in making sure the programmer would not finish out the month at Disney.

[Steven Lyle Jordan]

He panicked as he stared at the Kindle's screen, and realized sickly that he had done something, somehow, incredibly wrong, and his girlfriend's Kindle was doing its damndest to download the entire Amazon catalog of e-books... he struggled with every button, lost two fingernails struggling to open the tricky battery compartment, even resorted to yelling, shaking and slapping at the reader, but it would not stop; and he saw with certainty his life ending, as the truly unimaginable bill from Amazon would hit her bank account, and set off enough red lights and klaxons that the FBI itself would surely perk up at the prospect of hunting her down... the moment when the truth came out, and he would be assaulted with the withering look from her that would signal the end of sex as he knew it... and even as he imagined he could hear twenty black Ford Torinos with "FBI" emblazoned on their roofs, led by Jeff Bezos' limo, bearing down upon his house, he rushed for the tool shed, praying to himself that he could find some way to shut the reader down that would not ultimately result in his beheading or castration.

[Patricia]

Nate realised that he was growing absent-minded when, one morning, he found himself toasting his reader and attempting to synch his cheese using Calibre.

[badgoodDeb]

Originally Posted by wayrad

Jason almost panicked before realizing this creeping sensation was the feeling that he had been told of by other characters, yet had never experienced himself: he was being read.

This one sounds great --- can't wait for the rest of the story to this!

Originally Posted by Dr. Drib

I never really thought of gramma as a killing machine.

Don

And this one has real promise too. Can't wait to read the novels!

How about final sentences?

[mjh215]

Originally Posted by Dr. Drib

It was a day like any other day, except it was Thursday.


Don

I could never get the hang of Thursdays.

-MJ

[RWood]

The new diet was easy to keep, you only eat on days that end in "ay."

[RWood]

I remember the future as if it was yesterday.