My idea for a writing challenge is this (OK I have an unfair advantage so will sit in judgementetetete on this one).

You must write 1000(ish)words whilst drunk and incompetant (or, if your religion is drink intolerant then please feel free to take any equivalent mind altering substances, or type blind folded.),

No allowance will be made for only having three fingers, but special circumstances will be considered for entrants with two left feet, four thumbs or three ears (a valid medical certificate will need be shown at the door, credible, photographic evidence may be (laughed at, pointed at, copied for further (ahem) enlightenment) demanded, depending on how drunk the judge is.

Writing talent will not count. We don't care how well you write. We only want your dreams/dirty fantasies/mucky wotsits and yucky doodahs(do you know how much they pay for mucky wotsits?)

This will probably be judged by your peers (so no swearing), so be nice. Likely no one will enter.

So I win either way,ay,ay,ay.

- WolfCreature

It was just a bit of fun on my part. This is not a real challenge

Bilebite Spoofus walked down the impossibly cobblestoned street. The street was built by a drunken architect under the influence of Escher. It was nearly impossible to get anywhere walking down it. In fact, the more you walked the more you ended up in the same place. To get to a more sturdy built street (say the yellow briquette road) you had to walk on the walls of the surrounding buildings and jump sideways into dead alleys, which was OK because dead alleys didn't scream like the live alleys did when you careened into them. One day Spoofus took a crowbar and scklourched a brick out of the road. He took it home and sat it on his dresser. It immediatly fell up and hit the ceiling. He tried to knock it down with a crowbar but only ended up knocking it around the ceiling and scratching