So I’m reading Monica’s blog and she’s posted about this site called the Random Logline Generator, which is supposed to give you ideas for stories. As Monica puts it:
It’s set up to produce:
A career [+ sometimes another character] + what happens + occasionally where and where the action occurs. It also sometimes adds traits/adjectives to the characters.
And then she said this:
Try it yourself. It’s good for at least an hour’s worth of entertainment.*
Where the asterisk indicates “This assumes that, like me, you have the maturity of a 12-year-old and, quite possibly, don’t leave the house enough.”
OMG, I *do* have the maturity of as 12-year-old boy… I even have a tag on my blog to prove it! So of course I tried it. And I would like to state, for the record, that when she said “at least” an hour, she did mean it was the minimum amount of time one would get sucked into hitting that “Generate Random Logline” button. So now you’ll have to read a blog posting full of the inanity, because I’ve spent all my time reading randomly generated loglines and have nothing else to blog about. Blame Monica.
Well, really, she should have seen that coming.
Wait, the mailbomb is in someone’s mind? Or the barber is? This is so confusing.
Also occurring in someone’s mind:
Two women having sex in someone’s mind? That would never happen.
I think if anyone shouldn’t be gullible, it would be the wife of marriage counselor. Also, that’s not how you are supposed to spell gullible. Look it up.
Next up, what the %^&* is a “peanut teller”? Because he’s showing up in THREE of my plots and sometimes he has two heads:
And what is the peanut teller writing in his diary anyway? A secret so perverse that he can’t even tell it to the peanuts?
There is something so very wrong about the phrase “eternally-cheerful rapist.”
Apparently screenwriting guru Robert McKee says that you know a comedy will be a hit if you can describe it in one sentence and it makes people laugh. If that’s true, then this next one will be a blockbuster:
I don’t know why, but that one made me do a spit take. And I wasn’t even drinking anything!
An ancient online burial ground? Isn’t that called MySpace?
This one had me picturing a women in bed with a skeleton. “Wait a minute, you mean boners aren’t actally ….”
Wind up what? Their watches? In an ancient burial ground in cyberspace? Don’t leave me hanging!
Goddamn lion, put on some pants already!
Wait, weren’t they called the Vancouver Grizzlies?
First of all, what’s going on in Boston that people are leaving as refugees? Secondly, I need clarification – are they trying to pick up the alligators?
I think we may have some gender confusion issues going on here.
Never trust a player player. He will totally play you.
Wait, wasn’t that the plot of Full House?
