Bad Bar Lines and "Bodice Rippers"

[SoNotHer]

A friend recently forwarded one of the funniest things I've read in some time: The Evil Librarian Supervillian's dissection of "21 of the most ridiculous romance novels ever." An excerpt and link to the article are below.

So I'm wondering what you remember as a) the worst romance you (or an anonymous "friend") ever read or b) the worst pickup line/s you've ever heard. Looking forward to what you write. ;-)

http://evillibrariansupervillain.wordpress.com/2010/08/29/bodice-rippers-21-of-the-most-ridiculous-romance-novels-ever/

"This is a classic of the terrible smut genre. Magnus Ericsson and his ten children by various wenches...have accidentally time travelled from their Viking village into modern-day Hollywood. Magnus immediately falls for a winemaker named Angela and they hunker down in some bed furs for some good ol’ viking ploughing."

[Elijah]

My face is leaving in ten minutes, be on it. :|

[deb_U_taunt]

Absolute worst.

"Wanna come over to my house to play checkers? I will jump you and you can jump me?"

[Greyson]

Eternal Pleasure


Even if Nina Bangs is her real name, there’s just no excuse. Get a pen name.

Eleven Gods of the Night are incarnated for the first time in 65 million years, summoned to protect humanity from an all-encompassing evil that is coming in 2012, at the end of the Mayan calendar. While currently incarnated as deadly, handsome men, they have the ability to assume their prior forms—those of gigantic dinosaurs. One of them, Ty Endeka, develops a powerful attraction to his taxi driver, Kelly Maloy, with whom he must fight the forces of evil–and of desire. Save a Brontesaurus. Ride these guys.

__________________________________________________ ______________


This is my personal fave. My girlfriend and I cracked up, "Nina Bangs." Of course the fight between evil and desire resonated with me. :| I just got to laugh about some of ths stuff, sometimes.

[*Anya*]

"If your left leg was Thanksgiving and your right was Christmas, would you mind if I visited you between the holidays?"

:)

[SoNotHer]

Y'all are making me laugh :-).... So here's a couple for you:

"Why don't you sit on my lap?... we can talk about the first thing that pops up."

"That shirt is very becoming on you. If I was that shirt I'd be comming on you too."

"How do you like your eggs in the morning?"

[*Anya*]

1. "Hey pretty thing, are you looking for a job?", "No". "Well, I'd like to have you on my staff anyway!"

2. "Hey, if I jumped on your back, would you beat me off?"

And my personal favorite...

3. "I'm going to have sex with you tonight, you might as well be there!"

Bada Bing!!

[clay]

Way back in early...ahemmmm...70's..when I first came out...I read some book...thought it would educate me...so I would be so suave when I met a lady. So...anyway, I read the book (don't remember name) and geared up for my first foray into the world of lesbians and bars. Well I seated myself at the bar...got a beverage, and was perusing the ladies all around me. I spotted one that caught my eye...proceeded to do the "recommended gestures" and such..she just kept looking at me, smiling every so often..and I am like "what the heck" am I doing something wrong? I sat and contemplated what to do or not do...when she came over and sat down beside me. I introduced myself, ordered her a beverage. I smoked then, so when I took a cigarette out and went to light it, SHE picked up my lighter, and I held the said ciggie to my mouth..and waited..waited..and I looked at her..she stared at me..and said Hold your hand like this..I did..and she used her index finger to scratch inside my cupped hand..I am like..WTH? Finally after, I think ten eons or so..she said darling, I want to go home and fuck with you...don't you know when a lady scratches the inside of your palm like that, what she wants? I by now, was fifteen shades of crimson and am sure steam was coming out of my young and naive ears....I was so dumbstruck...and BTW...my "gesture" I read about and held as gospel? Tug your left earlobe and smile with a wink at the lady you want...I still laugh so hard at myself..to this day...talk about naivete'...lol PS I have never, ever used a "pickup" line for a lady. It is my Southern culture...and I just do not like them, and will NOT use them...it is just who I am...my killer blue eyes work just fine..and my dimpled smile...<wink>

[SoNotHer]

That's quite a story, ClayBaby :-)

Here are a couple more jewels....


Do you know what'd look good on you? Me.

(At the office copy machine) "Reproducing eh?" "Can I help?"

I'm new in town. Could you give me directions to your apartment?

Are you free tonight or will it cost me?

[*Anya*]

I went out with a male psychologist one time BCOAL (before coming out as a lesbian). We were having dinner and he said to me:

"I can tell by the way you are sitting with your pelvis tilted towards me that you want to have sex with me".

Had to laugh.

More Bad Lines:

1. "Was that love at first sight or should I walk by again?"

2. "Damn I need a broom!" "Why?" "Because I'm about to sweep you off your feet."

3. "Do you wash your pants with Windex?" "Why?" Because I can see myself in them."

:)

[Quintease]

I went out with a male psychologist one time BCOAL (before coming out as a lesbian). We were having dinner and he said to me:

"I can tell by the way you are sitting with your pelvis tilted towards me that you want to have sex with me".



Serious?

*laughing*

[*Anya*]

Serious?

*laughing*

Yes, seriously and sadly true:)

It was a first and last date. He did not understand why either. Another mental health professional out in the world (I can say this b/c I work in the field).

[SoNotHer]

I think I want to see another thread on lines/actions that brought a date to a quick close as well as a thread on the pulp and bad movies we've read/seen (because that's what we could find), but here are a few more of the best of the worst:

“Guy: ‘Do you have any Italian in you?’ Me: ‘Nooo.’ Guy: ‘Want some?’”

“Save water. Shower with me.”

“If you jingle my bells, I’ll promise you a white Christmas.”

and

“Hey, I hear your ankles are having a party. You want to invite your pants down?”

[JAGG]

Ok this really happened to me. Hahaha this real drunk and equally as scary looking woman tells me. " I'm not staring at you, I'm blind in my right eye!

[macele]

i had been working very hard to get her to like me. i say, do i turn you on just a little a bit? she says, oh yeah. i could just slide right off this chair. ... as they say, she may have been out of my league lol.

i like silly sweet pick up lines. but not really to those i don't know. i have a friend that i will randomly say to ... do you sleep on your stomach? can i? ... makes her smile lol.

mathematics makes great lines: i'd love to find the slope of your curve.

[*Anya*]

Great thread! Makes me laugh outloud, especially since most of us have had so many bad lines used on us!

Carry on!

[dixie]

“Guy: ‘Do you have any Italian in you?’ Me: ‘Nooo.’ Guy: ‘Want some?’”



Oh my gosh I HATE this line! lol Swap Portuguese for Italian and you would have my ex who attempted to use that line at LEAST once every couple weeks. She was big on the cheesy stuff. Used to make me wanna bang my head against the wall...lol

[SoNotHer]

That is a big LMAO, Dixie Lady. :-) Some of these are pretty amazingly awful.

I need to find some pulp and bodice ripper excerpts as well...

[Dominique]

..and said Hold your hand like this..I did..and she used her index finger to scratch inside my cupped hand..I am like..WTH? Finally after, I think ten eons or so..she said darling, I want to go home and fuck with you...don't you know when a lady scratches the inside of your palm like that, what she wants? killer blue eyes work just fine..and my dimpled smile...<wink>

OK, What did the palm scratch mean? I vaguely remember that....

[*Anya*]

Example of a finalist entry:

The Short, Happy Life of Frances’ Comb
by Scott Stavrou

Frances’ comb was an old comb and he used it alone. He had not combed his hair for eighty-four days and to hunt for hair was getting harder all the time. When he had been younger, in the days before he got older, the hair had been as plentiful as the fish in the Gulf Stream. The comb used to be just a small part of his fine arsenal of hair care products. Before the comb had proved its solitary worth he had used it in tandem with the sleek Remington small-caliber blow dryer and a fine vent brush made by the Italians that practically forced the hair into submission. If you were lucky enough to have had strong hair and a powerful arsenal of truly excellent hair care products, you used them all and even took them with you for the aficionado of grooming knows that hair care is a moveable feast, and if you were lucky enough to have had brave hair as a young man, then it stayed with you forever. Sometimes.
The hair line, Frances noted, could also be a moveable feast, one that of late had been retreating back away from his forehead even faster than the Italians retreated from the Austrians. Ah, they were fine chaps, those Italians, even in retreat. Frances thought about the Italians while he stared at his reflection in the bathroom mirror late that morning in the hours that came just before the afternoon and after the night. His reflection stared back at him. Main thing a reflection did. Stared right back at you. He noticed that it was the same reflection that had stared back at him last night from the clean, well-lighted windows of Harry’s Bar & American Grill.
“Damn insolent reflection,” Frances said aloud. The reflection mouthed the words with him but made no sound.
“Damn insolent silent reflection,” he said.
His freshly washed hair stood on end, having barely survived the morning attack of the strong, relentless Shower Massage jet-spray. Certain of the finer strands swayed like the shorter grasses of the Serengeti. There were bright shiny patches of skin showing through the fine strands of hair just as if they had been mowed down by a stampeding herd of wildebeest.
Only the hair hadn’t been ravaged by wildebeest, not quite, really. Rather.
“Male pattern baldness,” Frances thought aloud, even though there was no one to hear him other than his reflection and his now useless comb.
“They say it is the fault of the mother. Damn insolent mother.”
Many things had been her fault, like the playing of the cello. But it was better not to think about that now. Now was the time for the running of the comb through the hair and not to think about the retreating hairline or the Italians or even the one he called Mother. Even though the comb was his only remaining weapon, it was a good, clean comb with strong lines and well-made tines.
Picking up his comb he made the first pass at the hair, going in boldly and strongly in the manner of Belmonte moving in for a kill after the picador had finished his work. Certain strands of the hair gave themselves fully to the attack and ended up captured in the strong, true tines of the comb. Frances knew that there was nothing to be done for those imprisoned behind the enemy tines of the comb. Being caught was the same as death, worse, really, in a way, because then you had to clean the comb and you got that sick feeling in the pit of your stomach, the way you do when you know that your hair is done for and there’s not a damn thing you can do about it. There was the hair club for men, but there was no glory in that and you weren’t really fooling anyone, not even your reflection.
So you did the only thing a man could do, you used the comb to arrange the hair to cover as much of the scalp as possible, but gracefully.
And you knew that truly, like the earth and like living in Paris, the hairline did move.

[msW8ing]

In my younger days before age so cruelly stole my hard body lol..while walking through a bar wearing black stockings with a seam..thigh high black leather boots..mini skirt and peasant blouse..." Hey baby, is that a seam in your stocking or the stairway to heaven" I'll remember that lame line til I die lol

[Guy]

Do you work at Subway cause you just turned my 6 inch into a foot long


You know what? Your eyes are the same color as my Porsche

Im pretty corny so i like corny stuff. I don't think I ever used a line to pick up a girl, although I have used them joking around.

[Dominique]

I was never really into the bar scene. I hated cigarette smoke that bad!

I did like the clubs (well, here it was one, after hours club for the dancing) and on Sunday afternoon they had Tea parties. The music was always so loud you had to scream into any one's ear to talk, and the side ways head tilt meant *Do you want to dance* And then the restroom......too much going on in there, I trained my bladder. I always left with who I came with.

Now a small part of me feels like I missed out on something. All that cheese!:passinggas:

[Dominique]

Can I pull/light the fuse on your tampon
!

The things people say!!! Apparently this disgusting statement appealed to my sense of humor as I burst out laughing......good thing the music was so loud maybe.:koolaid:

[*Anya*]

14.”He snapped my bra like a Concord taking off, and I was unhooked for love.”

13.”The heaving waves on the vast, ink-black ocean sent a salty spray over the proud bow of the three-masted ship, leaving beads of water on the exposed alabaster skin above the bodice of the tall, raven-haired woman who stood sobbing on the deck, her salty tears mixing with the storm-tossed sea.”

12.”Scarlet’s hair was as red as my persistent canker sore.”

11.”Nicole let the silk blouse fall from her shoulders, wrapped her left leg around James and deftly cut some cheese.”

10.”Robert was new at this prison thing, and he felt frightened and confused. But the moment he laid eyes on #472825994, he became a prisoner of love.”

9.”Sam liked to hump.”

8.”Though flanked by two swarthy state troopers, Paula found her gaze drawn to the chubby saxophonist.”

7.”It was a dark and horny night…”

6.”Gentle cascades of vermilion poured over Daphne’s heaving, lily-white bosom. ‘Call 911, Scooby,’ she breathed.”

5.”His flatulence reared up like a proud stallion.”

4.”‘Miss Savannah, is there room for both of us in that hoop skirt?’ Chandler mocked with a slight bow and a sweep of his top hat.”

3.”Within minutes of their meeting, Representatives Beth (D-Florida) and Eric (R-Montana) lumbered into the bedroom where soon the unmistakable sounds of wet, naked bodies engaged in sexual congress were heard.”

2.”He smelled of pork. Rotting pork, in fact — and lots of it.”

1.”Omaha Beach, 0800 Hours: reinforcements from 2nd Panzer Korps arrive, their well-muscled young torsos glistening with man-dew.”

[SoNotHer]

A/G it's hard to know what my favorite line from those masterpieces is, but this may be the winner:

”Nicole let the silk blouse fall from her shoulders, wrapped her left leg around James and deftly cut some cheese.”"

Although the pork one is certainly a close second and "man dew" made me laugh out loud!

[SoNotHer]

"The countdown had stalled at T minus 69 seconds when Desiree, the first female ape to go up in space, winked at me slyly and pouted her thick, rubbery lips unmistakably--the first of many such advances during what would prove to be the longest, and most memorable, space voyage of my career."


:moonstars:

[*Anya*]

A/G it's hard to know what my favorite line from those masterpieces is, but this may be the winner:

”Nicole let the silk blouse fall from her shoulders, wrapped her left leg around James and deftly cut some cheese.”"

Although the pork one is certainly a close second and "man dew" made me laugh out loud!

Cracks me up! Thank you, I was beginning to worry that I was the only one that thought these were hysterical!

I love the Dark and stormy night contest each year and there is also a bad Faulkner contest too! Guess it is my off-beat sense of humor combined with reading everything I can get my hands on!

Keep em' coming!
:):)

[SoNotHer]

Oh yes, bad Faulkner! You're not the only one, A/G. This stuff makes me laugh spontaneously ;-)


"Like an expensive sports car, fine-tuned and well-built, Portia was sleek, shapely, and gorgeous, her red jumpsuit molding her body, which was as warm as the seatcovers in July, her hair as dark as new tires, her eyes flashing like bright hubcaps, and her lips as dewy as the beads of fresh rain on the hood; she was a woman driven--fueled by a single accelerant--and she needed a man, a man who wouldn't shift from his views, a man to steer her along the right road, a man like Alf Romeo."

[Ebon]

Way back in early...ahemmmm...70's..when I first came out...I read some book...thought it would educate me...so I would be so suave when I met a lady. So...anyway, I read the book (don't remember name) and geared up for my first foray into the world of lesbians and bars. Well I seated myself at the bar...got a beverage, and was perusing the ladies all around me. I spotted one that caught my eye...proceeded to do the "recommended gestures" and such..she just kept looking at me, smiling every so often..and I am like "what the heck" am I doing something wrong? I sat and contemplated what to do or not do...when she came over and sat down beside me. I introduced myself, ordered her a beverage. I smoked then, so when I took a cigarette out and went to light it, SHE picked up my lighter, and I held the said ciggie to my mouth..and waited..waited..and I looked at her..she stared at me..and said Hold your hand like this..I did..and she used her index finger to scratch inside my cupped hand..I am like..WTH? Finally after, I think ten eons or so..she said darling, I want to go home and fuck with you...don't you know when a lady scratches the inside of your palm like that, what she wants? I by now, was fifteen shades of crimson and am sure steam was coming out of my young and naive ears....I was so dumbstruck...and BTW...my "gesture" I read about and held as gospel? Tug your left earlobe and smile with a wink at the lady you want...I still laugh so hard at myself..to this day...talk about naivete'...lol PS I have never, ever used a "pickup" line for a lady. It is my Southern culture...and I just do not like them, and will NOT use them...it is just who I am...my killer blue eyes work just fine..and my dimpled smile...<wink>

THAT'S WHAT THAT HAND SCRATCH THING MEANS???!!!!!!! FUCK!!!

[*Anya*]

Winner: Purple Prose

The mongrel dog began to lick her cheek voraciously with his sopping wet tongue, so wide and flat and soft, a miniature pink fleshy cape soaked through and oozing with liquid salivary gratitude; after all, she had rescued him from the clutches of Bernard, the curmudgeonly one-eyed dogcatcher, whose own tongue -- she remembered vividly the tongues of all her lovers -- was coarse and lethargic, like a slug in a sandpaper trenchcoat.
Christopher Wey
Pittsburgh, PA

Runner-Up

"Hmm . . ." thought Abigail as she gazed languidly from the veranda past the bright white patio to the cerulean sea beyond, where dolphins played and seagulls sang, where splashing surf sounded like the tintinnabulation of a thousand tiny bells, where great gray whales bellowed and the sunlight sparkled off the myriad of sequins on the flyfish's bow ties, "time to get my meds checked."

Runner-Up

The complementary crepuscularities of earth and sky shrank away from one another as the roseate effulgence of a new dawn burst forth, not unlike a reclining pneumatic beauty's black silk stocking splitting apart at the seam to reveal the glowing radiance of an angrily sun-burned leg.
Graham Thomas
St Albans, Hertfordshire, U.K.

Dishonorable Mention

The pancake batter looked almost perfect, like the morning sun shining on the cream-colored bare shoulder of a gorgeous young blonde driving 30 miles over the speed limit down a rural Nebraska highway with the rental car's sunroof open, except it had a few lumps.
Jim Thomas
Gilbert, AZ

Winner: Romance

Bill swore the affair had ended, but Louise knew he was lying, after discovering Tupperware containers under the seat of his car, which were not the off-brand containers that she bought to save money, but authentic, burpable, lidded Tupperware; and she knew he would see that woman again, because unlike the flimsy, fake containers that should always be recycled responsibly, real Tupperware must be returned to its rightful owner.
Jeanne Villa
Novato, CA

Runner-Up

Like a mechanic who forgets to wipe his hands on a shop rag and then goes home, hugs his wife, and gets a grease stain on her favorite sweater - love touches you, and marks you forever.
Beth Fand Incollingo
Haddon Heights, N.J.

Dishonorable Mentions

He was a dark and stormy knight, and this excited Gwendolyn, but admittedly not as much as last night when he was Antonio Banderas in drag, or the night before that when he was a French Legionnaire who blindfolded her and fed her pommes frites from his kepi.
Leslie Muir, Atlanta, GA

Carmen's romance with Broderick had thus far been like a train ride, not the kind that slowly leaves the station, builds momentum, and then races across the countryside at breathtaking speed, but rather the one that spends all day moving freight cars around at the local steel mill.
Bruce Portzer, Seattle, WA

[SoNotHer]

Clearly where I stop laughing! Oh my, my, this are outrageously funny....

Winner: Purple Prose

The mongrel dog began to lick her cheek voraciously with his sopping wet tongue, so wide and flat and soft, a miniature pink fleshy cape soaked through and oozing with liquid salivary gratitude; after all, she had rescued him from the clutches of Bernard, the curmudgeonly one-eyed dogcatcher, whose own tongue -- she remembered vividly the tongues of all her lovers -- was coarse and lethargic, like a slug in a sandpaper trenchcoat.
Christopher Wey
Pittsburgh, PA

Runner-Up

"Hmm . . ." thought Abigail as she gazed languidly from the veranda past the bright white patio to the cerulean sea beyond, where dolphins played and seagulls sang, where splashing surf sounded like the tintinnabulation of a thousand tiny bells, where great gray whales bellowed and the sunlight sparkled off the myriad of sequins on the flyfish's bow ties, "time to get my meds checked."

Runner-Up

The complementary crepuscularities of earth and sky shrank away from one another as the roseate effulgence of a new dawn burst forth, not unlike a reclining pneumatic beauty's black silk stocking splitting apart at the seam to reveal the glowing radiance of an angrily sun-burned leg.
Graham Thomas
St Albans, Hertfordshire, U.K.

Dishonorable Mention

The pancake batter looked almost perfect, like the morning sun shining on the cream-colored bare shoulder of a gorgeous young blonde driving 30 miles over the speed limit down a rural Nebraska highway with the rental car's sunroof open, except it had a few lumps.
Jim Thomas
Gilbert, AZ

Winner: Romance

Bill swore the affair had ended, but Louise knew he was lying, after discovering Tupperware containers under the seat of his car, which were not the off-brand containers that she bought to save money, but authentic, burpable, lidded Tupperware; and she knew he would see that woman again, because unlike the flimsy, fake containers that should always be recycled responsibly, real Tupperware must be returned to its rightful owner.
Jeanne Villa
Novato, CA

Runner-Up

Like a mechanic who forgets to wipe his hands on a shop rag and then goes home, hugs his wife, and gets a grease stain on her favorite sweater - love touches you, and marks you forever.
Beth Fand Incollingo
Haddon Heights, N.J.

Dishonorable Mentions

He was a dark and stormy knight, and this excited Gwendolyn, but admittedly not as much as last night when he was Antonio Banderas in drag, or the night before that when he was a French Legionnaire who blindfolded her and fed her pommes frites from his kepi.
Leslie Muir, Atlanta, GA

Carmen's romance with Broderick had thus far been like a train ride, not the kind that slowly leaves the station, builds momentum, and then races across the countryside at breathtaking speed, but rather the one that spends all day moving freight cars around at the local steel mill.
Bruce Portzer, Seattle, WA

[SoNotHer]

"As the newest Lady Turnpot descended into the kitchen wrapped only in her celery-green dressing gown, her creamy bosom rising and falling like a temperamental soufflé, her tart mouth pursed in distaste, the sous-chef whispered to the scullery boy, 'I don't know what to make of her.'"

[*Anya*]

Peter Applebome's "Bad Hemingway"

In the late summer of that year we lived in a condo in North Dallas that looked across the tollway to the discos and honky-tonks of the Rue St. Bubba. We were young and our happiness dazzled us with its strength. But there was a terrible betrayal that lay within me like a Merle Haggard song at a French restaurant.
"The Great Landry says the Cowboys will be back,'' said the girl.
"Then it must be so," I said, though I knew it was a lie.
"When football season comes, then it will be cold. Like Switzerland. But not now. The cold will come later.
"Pass the Doritos,'' I said, and her eyes shone like the stars
over Amarillo.
I could not tell the girl about the woman of the tollway, of
her milk white BMW and her Jordache smile. There had been a fight. I had punched her boyfriend, who fought the mechanical bulls. Everyone told him, "You ride the bull, senor. You do not fight it." But he was lean and tough like a bad rib-eye and he fought the bull. And then he fought me. And when we finished there were no winners, just men doing what men must do. And the pain was washed away, but the image of the woman stayed with me like a blessing and like a curse. We went that summer to many clubs. We went to the Longhorn
Ballroom and the Palm and to a honky-tonk in Fort Worth that was what Harry's Bar would have been like if it had eighty-five cent Pearl Beer and a barmaid whose peroxide hair could damage your eyes as if you had seen an eclipse. That night we visited them all, but as we drove home I did
not think of the Pearl Beer and I did not think of the peroxide. I did not think of the girl who sat beside me. I thought of the woman of the tollway and I could feel my heart pounding in the heat of the summer night.
"Stop the car," the girl said. There was a terrible look of
sadness in her eyes. She knew about the woman of the tollway. I knew not how. I started to speak, but she raised an arm and spoke with a quiet peace I will never forget.
"I do not ask for whom's the tollway belle," she said, "the
tollway belle's for thee."
The next morning our youth was a memory, and our happiness was a lie. Life is like a bad margarita with good tequila, I thought as I poured whiskey onto my granola and faced a new day.

[Jeep]

If you are what you eat you could be me by morning. o.O

[SoNotHer]

"She resolved to end the love affair with Ramon tonight . . . summarily, like Martha Stewart ripping the sand vein out of a shrimp's tail . . . though the term "love affair" now struck her as a ridiculous euphemism . . . not unlike 'sand vein,' which is after all an intestine, not a vein . . . and that tarry substance inside certainly isn't sand . . . and that brought her back to Ramon."