Helena Rubenstein famously said, “There no ugly women, just lazy ones.” The same applies to writing.
The worst work I’ve seen isn’t poorly written–it’s lazy. Language is overly general and stuffed with cliches. Sentence structure is juvenile and/or repetitive.
Here’s an example: “Higman’s Hideout offers fine wines and good food at prices that won’t break the bank. Higman’s has everything you need for a memorable night out.”
This is the literary equivalent of a beer belly: flabby and unappealing. Yet a couple of authentic details–the kind you’d know if, say, you’d been to Higman’s–would turn it around.
The Corporate Writer 
I probably shouldn’t comment, because we’re related and all, but you asked for comments (on facebook) and I do have an opinion, so here I am :-).
As a person pouring my heart out to the world writing a personal blog, I’m sensitive to these sorts of judgements. Yes, there’s such a thing as laziness but there’s also such a thing as learning a craft. Despite having honed my own writing craft in a technical context, I’m a newborn baby writing memoir and chronicling a style quest. I agonize over posts, read/admire other writers, and try to “get” the nuances of this new kind of writing. It isn’t easy. Every time I hit the “publish” button I gulp in fear of exposing a literary flabby beer belly.
It’s not that I haven’t been to Higman’s, or that I’m lazy, or juvenile. I’m learning.
I think there’s a huge difference between rough writing — from a teenager’s heartfelt stream-of-consciousness to a political rant on a blog–and bad writing. The effort you describe is, to my mind, the opposite of bad writing. If everyone cared that much, the world of the written word would be a much better place.
I love the beer belly analogy. As an editor, I ruthlessly trim the fat, sometimes with a machete (or whatever knife they use do perform tummy tucks). 🙂
A machete, ouch! Scary!