This week I came across an email about the Bulwer-Lytton prize for bad writing - this year awarded to Molly Ringle for her description of a lovers' kiss: 

For the first month of Ricardo and Felicity's affair, they greeted one another at every stolen rendezvous with a kiss--a lengthy, ravenous kiss, Ricardo lapping and sucking at Felicity's mouth as if she were a giant cage-mounted water bottle and he were the world's thirstiest gerbil.

I'll admit this opening sentence would have me returning the book from whence it came promptly - no doubt after a few mock retches. From all accounts (i.e. from the email), there were some 'doozies' entered into the competition, which is sponsored by the English department at San Jose State University. Here are a few tasters to remind us all that in writing, fictional or otherwise, some things are better left off the page. 

Through the verdant plains of North Umbria walked Waylon Ogglethorpe and, as he walked, the clouds whispered his name, the birds of the air sang his praises, and the beasts of the fields from smallest to greatest said, "There goes the most noble among men" -- in other words, a typical stroll for a schizophrenic ventriloquist with delusions of grandeur. (Tom Wallace: runner-up)