Tuesday, July 25, 2006


Monkeyshit being the way my podiatrist describes my feet: “Elisson, your problem is that you have Monkeyshit Feet.”

This little item has been circulating on the Internet forever, but I couldn’t resist snagging it. It’s a collection of (supposedly) actual analogies and metaphors found in high school essays, compiled from submissions sent in by English teachers from across the country. These are some of the winners:
  • 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 machine.

  • 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, Granddad had a mind like a steel trap, only one that had been left out so long, it had rusted shut.

  • Shots rang out, as shots are wont to do.

  • 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.

  • 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.

  • It was an American tradition, like fathers chasing kids around with power tools.

  • He was deeply in love. When she spoke, he thought he heard bells, as if she were a garbage truck backing up.
I dunno. These are almost too good to be true exemplars of Unintentional Humor. Can you come up with any that are this bad good?

[A tip o’ th’ Elisson fedora goes to Stefan P.]

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