The young fighter had a hungry look, the kind you get from not eating for a while.
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.
Her artistic sense was exquisitely refined, like someone who can tell butter
from I Can’t Believe It’s Not Butter.
She had a deep, throaty, genuine laugh, like that sound
a dog makes just before it throws up.
It came down the stairs looking very much like something no one had ever seen before.
The dandelion swayed in the gentle breeze like an oscillating electric fan set on medium.
He felt like he was being hunted down like a dog, in a place that hunts dogs, I suppose.
The lamp just sat there, like an inanimate object.
You know how in “Rocky” he prepares for the fight by punching sides of raw beef? Well,
yesterday it was as cold as that meat locker he was in.
He was deeply in love. When she spoke, he thought he heard bells, as if
she were a garbage truck backing up.
Her eyes were like limpid pools, only they had forgotten to put in any PH cleanser.
She grew on him like she was a colony of E. coli and he was room-temperature beef.
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.
Her voice had that tense, grating quality, like a first-generation thermal paper fax
machine that needed a band tightened.
A branch fell from the tree like a trunk falling off an elephant.
The painting was very Escher-like, as if Escher had painted an
exact copy of an Escher painting.
They were as good friends as the people on “Friends.”
He was as bald as one of the Three Stooges, either Curly or Larry,
you know, the one who goes woo woo woo.
The sardines were packed as tight as the coach section of a 747.
Her eyes were shining like two marbles that someone dropped in mucus and
then held up to catch the light.
The sunset displayed rich, spectacular hues like a .jpeg file at 20 percent cyan,
10 percent magenta, 60 percent yellow and 10 percent black.
Hey I’m just saying! That’s my story and I’m sticking to it! Have a wonderful Wednesday people and whatever you do, don’t forget to laff it up! Peace, I am outta here! Eucman!