These are actual excerpts from a source that shall remain nameless… thanks, Gary! This is a hoot!
Mary Rosenblum, Web Editor
Her face was a perfect oval, like a circle that had its two other 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 caught his eye like one of those pointy hook latches that used to
dangle from screen doors and would fly up whenever you banged the door
shut.
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 nose hair after a sneeze.
Her eyes were like two brown circles with big black dots in the center.
Her vocabulary was as bad as, like, whatever.
He was as tall as a six-foot-three-inch tree.
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.
The politician went unnoticed, much like the period after the D R on a
Dr. Pepper can.
They lived in a typical suburban neighborhood with picket fences that
resembled Nancy Kerrigan's teeth.
John and Mary had never met, kinda like two hummingbirds who had also
never met.
The thunder was ominous sounding, much like the sound of a thin sheet of
metal being shaken backstage during the storm scene in a play.
The red brick wall was the color of a brick-red Crayola crayon.