Several Bulwer Lytton Prizes for

When I play guitar, I simply strum and strum and then I go to the piano and ta dum and ta dum before I go to my drum, and drum and drum, but sometimes I need to get up and sing and sing until I feel that ring in my ear drums so that I can ta dum da dum dum dum but I never succumb to being just a guitar.

Where is my gun?

“What a marvelous day!" Squeaky Squirrel said to himself as he skipped down
a tree branch, little realizing that the bark beetle he sidestepped was Hylurgopinus rufipes, a carrier of Ophiostoma ulmi, the dreaded Dutch Elm disease, first seen in the U.S. in 1928, and that the day, while marvelous for him (and for the beetle), was going to be rather sucky for the tree.

Points for use of the word "sucky."

Call me--if you must, notwithstanding I probably don't know you, but in the spirit of sharing berths (separately) aboard the whaler Pequod for the next year or so, while I tell you about a captain who's a bit of a ding-a-ling, and a savage who shoots some wicked craps, yes, call me--Ishmael.

Congratulations. Well deserved.

Eager to escape from her devilish Uncle who had just tried to rape her, Jasmine mounted her steed and made her getaway. Her burnt auburn hair billowed
behind her as she galloped through the dense vegetation of the very woods
where her brother had hanged himself the year before.

Nice. Try adding a touch of unnecessary metaphor to the landscape.

It was dark, like a king sized Hershey's Dark, and not at all like those chichi miniature milk chocolate jobs that come in the 9.2 ounce assorted bags that they sell at the grocery store and sometimes at Walgreen's; and it was friggin' stormy, too.

Thank you.

Once upon a time there was a very good, and talented children’s book author who could not get the mean old book editors to publish her very fine stories for little children, even though she had been sending all these editors her wonderful manuscripts for twenty years (in packets that included a humbly phrased cover letter on pale pink scented stationary) and she of whom we speak had even offered to baby-sit the editors’ kitties and knit them leg warmers (the editors not the kitties), which is something these editors’ other authors would never have dreamed of doing, those ungrateful, already published authors who nitpicked at every comma and semi-colon in their contracts and kept asking for bigger and bigger advances and kept saying, "Me! Me! Me!" no, none of them would have done anything like this, and so it came as no surprise when our very good, and talented children’s book author, unappreciated and unloved, withdrew her manuscript (the one that featured tap dancing centipedes from the planet Zorg)
and........decided to self-publish.

This one gets an additional Restraining Order Commendation.

Catherine Cute was not the kind of little girl to wet the bed, dismember her favorite teddy bear and stuff it down the toilet, set her Mommy's hair on fire with an acetylene torch, and talk back to her grandma, but on the eve of her fourth birthday she was mad as mad could be.

There's something so awful about this, and yet... I kind of want to meet this kid.

"Pa, where you goin' with that Uzi?" asked Ma questioningly, a hint of concern coloring her voice like a Day-Glo pink highlighter pen.

I must begin coloring my conversation this way! Brilliant.