Awesomely funny story

Icarus

Shamone
Apr 14, 2001
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Brisbane Australia
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Got this through email, it's bloody tops haha


Here's a prime example of "Men are from Mars, Women are from Venus"; offered by an English professor from the University of Colorado for an actual class assignment:

The professor told his class one day: "Today we will experiment with a new form called the tandem story. The process is simple. Each person will pair off with the person sitting to his or her immediate right.

As homework tonight, one of you will write the first paragraph of a short story. You will e-mail your partner that paragraph and send another copy to me. The partner will read the first paragraph and then add another paragraph to the story and send it back, also sending another copy to me. The first person will then add a third paragraph, and so on back-and-forth.

Remember to re-read what has been written each time in order to keep the story coherent. There is to be absolutely NO talking outside of the e-mails and anything you wish to say must be written in the e-mail. The story is over when both agree a conclusion has been reached."

The following was actually turned in by two of his English students:
Rebecca and Gary.

THE STORY: (first paragraph by Rebecca)

At first, Laurie couldn't decide which kind of tea she wanted. The chamomile, which used to be her favorite for lazy evenings at home, now reminded her too much of Carl, who once said, in happier times, that he liked chamomile. But she felt she must now, at all costs, keep her mind off Carl. His possessiveness was suffocating, and if she thought about him too much her asthma started acting up again. So chamomile was out of the question.

(second paragraph by Gary)

Meanwhile, Advance Sergeant Carl Harris, leader of the attack squadron now in orbit over Skylon 4, had more important things to think about than the neuroses of an air-headed asthmatic bimbo named Laurie with whom he had spent one sweaty night over a year ago. "A.S. Harris to Geostation 17," he said into his transgalactic communicator. "Polar orbit established. No sign of resistance so far..." But before he could sign off a bluish particle beam flashed out of nowhere and blasted a hole through his ship's cargo bay. The jolt from the direct hit sent him flying out of his seat and across the cockpit.

(Rebecca)

He bumped his head and died almost immediately, but not before he felt one last pang of regret for psychically brutalizing the one woman who had ever had feelings for him. Soon afterwards, Earth stopped its pointless hostilities towards the peaceful farmers of Skylon 4. "Congress Passes Law Permanently Abolishing War and Space Travel," Laurie read in her newspaper one morning. The news simultaneously excited her and bored her. She stared out the window, dreaming of her youth, when the days had passed unhurriedly and carefree, with no newspaper to read, no television to distract her from her sense of innocent wonder at all the beautiful things around her. "Why must one lose one's innocence to become a woman?" she pondered wistfully.

(Gary)

Little did she know, but she had less than 10 seconds to live. Thousands of miles above the city, the Anu'udrian mothership launched the first of its lithium fusion missiles. The dimwitted wimpy peaceniks who pushed the Unilateral Aerospace disarmament Treaty through the congress had left Earth a defenseless target for the hostile alien empires who were determined to destroy the human race. Within two hours after the passage of the treaty the Anu'udrian ships were on course for Earth, carrying enough firepower to pulverize the entire planet. With no one to stop them, they swiftly initiated their diabolical plan. The lithium fusion missile entered the atmosphere unimpeded. The President, in his top-secret mobile submarine headquarters on the ocean floor off the coast of Guam, felt the inconceivably massive explosion, which vaporized poor, stupid Laurie.

(Rebecca)

This is absurd. I refuse to continue this mockery of literature. My writing partner is a violent, chauvinistic semi-literate adolescent.

(Gary)

Yeah? Well, my writing partner is a self-centered tedious neurotic whose attempts at writing are the literary equivalent of Valium. "Oh, shall I have chamomile tea? Or shall I have some other sort of F-- KING TEA??? Oh no, what am I to do? I'm such an air headed bimbo who reads too many Danielle Steele novels!"

(Rebecca)

As*h@le .

(Gary)

B*tch!

(Rebecca)

F**K YOU - YOU NEANDERTHAL!!

(Gary)

In your dreams, Ho. Go drink some tea.

(TEACHER)

A+ - I really liked this one.




The blokes story is so much better than the womans story as well. :lol:
 
THe best thing about reading that was the teacher's A+

I would have liked to go to that teacher's class..

lol
 
I've loved that since I first got it some 7 or 8 years ago.

Another fave was the cybersex one.

Online computer users often engage in what is affectionately known as "cybersex". Often the fantasies typed into keyboards and shared through Internet phone lines get pretty raunchy. However, as you'll see below, one of the two cyber-surfers in the following transcript of an online chat doesn't seem to quite get the point of cyber sex. Then again, maybe he does...

Wellhung: Hello, Sweetheart. What do you look like?
Sweetheart: I am wearing a red silk blouse, a miniskirt and high heels. I work out every day, I'm toned and perfect. My measurements are36-24-36. What do you look like?
Wellhung: I'm 6'3" and about 250 pounds. I wear glasses and I have on a pair of blue sweat pants I just bought from Kmart.I 'm also wearing a T-shirt with a few spots of barbecue sauce on it from dinner...it smells funny.

Sweetheart: I want you.Would you like to screw me?
Wellhung: OK

Sweetheart: We're in my bedroom. There's soft music playing on the stereo and candles on my dresser and night table.I'm looking up into your eyes, smiling. My hand works its way down to your crotch and begins to fondle your huge, swelling bulge.
Wellhung: I'm gulping, I'm beginning to sweat.
Sweetheart: I'm pulling up your shirt and kissing your chest.
Wellhung: Now I'm unbuttoning your blouse. My hands are trembling.
Sweetheart: I'm moaning softly.
Wellhung: I'm taking hold of your blouse and sliding it off slowly.
Sweetheart: I'm throwing my head back in pleasure. The cool silk slides off my warm skin.I'm rubbing your bulge faster, pulling and rubbing.

Wellhung: My hand suddenly jerks spastically and accidentally rips a hole in your blouse.I'm sorry.
Sweetheart: That's OK, it wasn't really too expensive.
Wellhung: I'll pay for it.
Sweetheart: Don't worry about it.

Sweetheart: I'm wearing a lacy black bra. My soft breasts are rising and falling, as I breathe harder and harder.
Wellhung: I'm fumbling with the clasp on your bra. I think it's stuck. Do you have any scissors?
Sweetheart: I take your hand and kiss it softly. I'm reaching back undoing the clasp. The bra slides off my body. The air caresses my breasts. My nipples are erect for you.
Wellhung: How did you do that? I'm picking up the bra and inspecting the clasp.

Sweetheart: I'm arching my back. Oh baby. I just want to feel your tongue all over me.
Wellhung: I'm dropping the bra. Now I'm licking your, you know, breasts. They're neat!
Sweetheart: I'm running my fingers through your hair. Now I'm nibbling your ear.
Wellhung: I suddenly sneeze. Your breasts are covered with spit and phlegm.
Sweetheart: What?
Wellhung: I'm so sorry. Really.
Sweetheart: I'm wiping your phlegm off my breasts with the remains of my blouse.
Wellhung: I'm taking the sopping wet blouse from you. I drop it with a plop.

Sweetheart: OK. I'm pulling your sweat pants down and rubbing your hard tool.
Wellhung: I'm screaming like a woman. Your hands are cold! Yeeee!
Sweetheart: I'm pulling up my miniskirt. Take off my panties.
Wellhung: I'm pulling off your panties. My tongue is going all over, in and out nibbling on you...umm... wait a minute.
Sweetheart: What's the matter?
Wellhung: I've got a pubic hair caught in my throat. I'm choking.
Sweetheart: Are you OK?
Wellhung: I'm having a coughing fit. I'm turning all red.
Sweetheart: Can I help?

Wellhung: I'm running to the kitchen, choking wildly. I'm fumbling through the cabinets, looking for a cup. Where do you keep your cups?
Sweetheart: In the cabinet to the right of the sink.
Wellhung: I'm drinking a cup of water. There, that's better.
Sweetheart: Come back to me, lover.
Wellhung: I'm washing the cup now.
Sweetheart: I'm on the bed aching for you.
Wellhung: I'm drying the cup. Now I'm putting it back in the cabinet. And now I'm walking back to the bedroom. Wait, it's dark, I'm lost. Where's the bedroom?
Sweetheart: Last door on the left at the end of the hall.
Wellhung: I found it.

Sweetheart: I'm tuggin' off your pants. I'm moaning. I want you so badly.
Wellhung: Me too.
Sweetheart: Your pants are off. I kiss you passionately-our naked bodies pressing each other.
Wellhung: Your face is pushing my glasses into my face. It hurts.
Sweetheart Why don't you take off your glasses?
Wellhung: OK, but I can't see very well without them. I place the glasses on the night table.
Sweetheart: I'm bending over the bed. Give it to me, baby!
Wellhung: I have to pee. I'm fumbling my way blindly across the room and toward the bathroom.
Sweetheart: Hurry back, lover.

Wellhung: I find the bathroom and it's dark. I'm feeling around for the toilet. I lift the lid.
Sweetheart: I'm waiting eagerly for your return.
Wellhung: I'm done going. I'm feeling around for the flush handle, but I can't find it. Uh-oh!
Sweetheart: What's the matter now?
Wellhung: I've realized that I've peed into your laundry hamper. Sorry again. I'm walking back to the bedroom now, blindly feeling my way.
Sweetheart: Mmm, yes. Come on.
Wellhung: OK, now I'm going to put my...you know ...thing...in your...you know...woman's thing.
Sweetheart: Yes! Do it, baby! Do it!
Wellhung: I'm touching your smooth butt. It feels so nice. I kiss your neck. Umm, I'm having a little trouble here.
Sweetheart: I'm moving my ass back and forth, moaning. I can't stand it another second! Slide in! Screw me now!


Wellhung: I'm flaccid.
Sweetheart: What?
Wellhung: I'm limp. I can't sustain an erection.
Sweetheart: I'm standing up and turning around; an incredulous look on my face.
Wellhung: I'm shrugging with a sad look on my face, my weiner all floppy. I'm going to get my glasses and see what's wrong.
Sweetheart: No, never mind. I'm getting dressed. I'm putting on my underwear. Now I'm putting on my wet nasty blouse.
Wellhung: No wait! Now I'm squinting, trying to find the night table. I'm feeling along the dresser, knocking over cans of hair spray, picture frames and your candles.
Sweetheart: I'm buttoning my blouse. Now I'm putting on my shoes.
Wellhung: I've found my glasses. I'm putting them on. My God! One of our candles fell on the curtain. The curtain is on fire! I'm pointing at it, a shocked look on my face.
Sweetheart: Go to hell. I'm logging off, you loser!
Wellhung: Now the carpet is on fire! Oh noooo!
Sweetheart: <logged off>