Looking back on the years she'd spent with Alastair, it was hard for Melanie to feel regret. At first the only basis for their relationship had been the similarity of their dietary restrictions; but with time, affection and opportunity, even a small similarity can be built into a substantial edifice in Aphrodite's honor. Even with her painful awareness of what had followed, Melanie could not help but see their love as having been a many-Splenda-ed thing.
9 comments:
oy. A pun that bad takes a kind of genius...
This is all training for your diabolical plan to conquer the Bulwer-Lytton contest and though it, the world, isn't it?
At any rate, I am impressed, though I think it still does not match the shaggy-dog "O'er amber grave of Wayne" that I recall from my childhood.
The Blackadder Says:
Crimes against humanity.
Mrs. D, you are my hero.
Give me neither blame nor praise; Darwin posted it, forgetting that I was the one logged in. I did assist in the formulation of the thing, though.
Pretty good. I considered retaliating with my favorite pun. But it's too long. So here's one from my second tier:
"Due to your excess consumption of egg and lemon sauces, we must extract all your upper teeth and replace them with a chrome plate. But be of good cheer; there's no plate like chrome for the hollandaise."
So there.
LogEyed Roman
*HEADSLAP*
This reminds me of the guy who entered the pun contest. He so desired to win that he entered ten separate puns for the contest. He was sure one would win, but alas; no pun in ten did.
[flipping to the end]
And so Melanie, with a saccarine smile, declared "Alastair, you were never my equal!" While sweetly said, her words left an aftertaste he could not abide. His simply could not absorb it all.
"You were my left-handed sugar" he said, so sweet and low, "when I biked through Europe, you were my cyclemate. But now my feelings for you (gasp) are tame!"
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