We Have a Winner

The winner of the 2005 Bulwer-Lytton competition for bad writing is Dan McKay. I have actually read Bulwer-Lytton because that little bastard Mácha was a fan. An occupational hazard, I suppose. Much like Goethe.

As he stared at her ample bosom, he daydreamed of the dual Stromberg carburetors in his vintage Triumph Spitfire, highly functional yet pleasingly formed, perched prominently on top of the intake manifold, aching for experienced hands, the small knurled caps of the oil dampeners begging to be inspected and adjusted as described in chapter seven of the shop manual.


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