[Jokes] Analogies, Metaphors and cautionary links (fwd)

[Chris McKenna]

-- 
Chris 'Awkward' McKenna

cmckenna at sucs.swan.ac.uk
awkward at gmx.co.uk
www.sucs.swan.ac.uk/~cmckenna


The essential things in life are seen not with the eyes,
but with the heart

Antoine de Saint Exupery


---------- Forwarded message ----------
Date: Thu, 12 Dec 2002 23:43:06 -0000
Subject: Analogies, Metaphors and cautionary links

Actual Analogies & Metaphors Found in High School Essays:

  Her face was a perfect oval, like a circle that had its two sides 
gently compressed by a Thigh Master.

  His thoughts tumbled in his head, making and breaking alliances 
like underpants in a dryer without Cling Free.

   He spoke with the wisdom that can only come from experience, like 
a guy who went blind because he looked at a solar eclipse without one of 
those boxes with a pinhole in it and now goes around the country speaking 
at high schools about the dangers of looking at a solar eclipse without one 
of those boxes with a pinhole in it.

  She grew on him like she was a colony of E. coli and he was room-temperature Canadian beef.

  She had a deep, throaty, genuine laugh, like that sound a dog makes just before it throws up.

  Her vocabulary was as bad as, like, whatever.

  He was as tall as a six-foot-three-inch tree.

  The revelation that his marriage of 30 years had disintegrated because of his wife's infidelity 
came as a rude shock, like a surcharge at a formerly surcharge-free ATM.

  The little boat gently drifted across the pond exactly the way a bowling ball wouldn't.

  McBride fell 12 stories, hitting the pavement like a Hefty bag filled with vegetable soup.

  From the attic came an unearthly howl. The whole scene had an eerie, 
surreal quality, like when you're on vacation in another city and Jeopardy comes on
  at 7:00 p.m. instead of 7:30.

   Her hair glistened in the rain like a nose hair after a sneeze.

  The hailstones leaped from the pavement, just like maggots when you fry 
them in hot grease.

   Long separated by cruel fate, the star-crossed lovers raced across 
the grassy field toward each other like two freight trains, one having 
left Cleveland at 6:36 p.m. traveling at 55 mph, the other from Topeka at 
4:19 p.m. at a speed of 35 mph.

  They lived in a typical suburban neighborhood with picket fences 
that resembled Nancy Kerrigan's teeth.

  John and Mary had never met. They were like two hummingbirds who 
had also never met.

  He fell for her like his heart was a mob informant and she was the East River.

  Even in his last years, Grandpappy had a mind like a steel trap, 
only one that had been left out so long, it had rusted shut.

 The plan was simple, like my brother-in-law Phil. But unlike Phil, 
this plan just might work.

The young fighter had a hungry look, the kind you get from not eating for a while.

  "Oh, Jason, take me!" she panted, her breasts heaving like a college 
  freshman on $1-a-beer night.

  He was as lame as a duck. Not the metaphorical lame duck, either, but a 
  real duck that was actually lame. Maybe from stepping on a land mine or something.

The ballerina rose gracefully en pointe and extended one slender leg behind her, like a dog at a fire hydrant.

  He was deeply in love. When she spoke, he thought he heard bells, as if she
  were a garbage truck backing up.

It was an American tradition, like a father chasing around his 
children with power tools.

  She was as easy as the TV Guide crossword.

  She walked into my office like a centipede with 98 missing legs.

   It hurt the way your tongue hurts after you accidentally staple it to the wall.