Friday, March 25, 2011

Cooking with Tomo Lesson 2

We are going to spice things up today. I've invited a special secret guest chef to help me in the kitchen today.
I'm going to post two Tomoviews of the same story. Your job, is to figure out which one was written by me, and which one was written my special guest.

Dish Number 1


"Merry Christmas...You Fat Fuck!"   

I hate this story already and I haven't even read it.

"Dumping the last log in the fireplace, angrily, she wiped tangled hair from her face. In the background Bing Crosby sang about a White Christmas."


I see the indomitable Mr. Cook is treating us to a Tales From the Crypt rip off. I wish Joan Crawford would beat him with a wire hanger.

"She struck the match, threw the small flame on the gas soaked logs. A ‘whoomp', and the fire began to eat at the dead wood. Smoke roiled and wafted up and up and up..."

Whoomp. And there it is.

"The smoke collected against some unseen barrier, began to fill the room."

That unseen barrier being Cook's sucktasticness, and the amount of brain bleach necessary to cleanse the reader's brain, lodged up his...chimney.

"She chocked and backed away in confusion."

I'd back away in confusion too, if I "chocked." I'm not used to chocking, but it sounds painful and mark-leaving.

"Had he blocked the flue somehow?"

Ya think? Seriously, who gave Cook a typewriter? That person should be cunt-punched or taint-tasered, as appropriate.

"An empty bottle thunked into the fire, followed by his winter cap. It began to burn, filling the room with more acrid smoke."

I love the way cheap plastic booze bottles thunk in the morning.

"She hurried forward, frantically dug it from the hungry flames, opened it... smiled."

Free coupons for Wendys!!!

"Time to haul his dead ass out of the flue before the boy woke."

Best line in this story...because it's the last line and it means this waste of ink and paper is over.



Dish Number 2  

"Merry Christmas...You Fat Fuck!" 

Happy New Year...You Talentless Hack!

Dumping the last log in the fireplace, angrily, angrily, she wiped tangled hair from her face. In the background Bing Crosby sang about a White Christmas. 


I want to dump an angry log on this story.  

"She struck the match, threw the small flame on the gas soaked logs. A ‘whoomp', and the fire began to eat at the dead wood. Smoke roiled and wafted up and up and up..."

Silly asshat, no one uses gasoline to start a fire in a fireplace. You need proper kindling. When I want a fire, I just use one of the eleventy copies of Laughing Boys Shadow I got from Necon.


"The smoke collected against some unseen barrier, began to fill the room." 

This story makes me want to put a SEEN barrier in front of my garage door, and stomp the accelerator on my car. 

"She chocked and backed away in confusion." 

That word, I do not think it means what you think it means. Here, let me post the definition for you.

CHOCK FULL OF BAD WRITING


"Had he blocked the flue somehow?" 

The flew was blocked with his shattered dreams of being published by Leisure. 

"An empty bottle thunked into the fire, followed by his winter cap. It began to burn, filling the room with more acrid smoke." 

With a smile on my face, and a bottle in my hand, you'll find me in the chimney in the morning!

"She hurried forward, frantically dug it from the hungry flames, opened it... smiled."
 
Her eyes throbbed with intensity as she counted the singed bills within.

 "Time to haul his dead ass out of the flue before the boy woke."

Note to all wanna be writers out there. If the best you can come up with is a story about a dude getting stuck in a chimney on Christmas. Please, do us all a favor, and ask Santa for a lobotomy.
 

 

5 comments:

  1. I'm going to hazard a guess and say Tomoview #2 was written by our own, dear Tomo.

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  2. Ah. I was going to go with Meteornotes for #1, and definitely #2 Tomo....

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  3. I made # 2. ;-) I'm not telling who wrote #1 , but it wasn't anyone that was guessed yet.

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  4. Leave to Tomo to give us a deuce... :)

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