Jabba's Friday afternoon laugh-in - SV650.org

29-09-06, 01:07 PM

These are metaphors from actual GCSE essays. Honest. Some new ones, too

His thoughts tumbled in his head, making and breaking alliances like underpants in a tumble dryer.

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

McMurphy fell 12 stories, hitting the pavement like a paper bag filled with vegetable soup.

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 centre.

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 York at 6:36 p.m. travelling at 55 mph, the other from Peterborough at 4:19 p.m. at a speed of 35 mph.

The politician was gone but unnoticed, like the full stop after the Dr. on a Dr Pepper can.

John and Mary had never met. They were 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 colour of a brick-red crayon.

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.

The door had been forced, as forced as the dialogue during the interview portion of Family Fortunes.

The plan was simple, like my brother 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 chest heaving like a student on 99p-a-pint 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.

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 knife was as sharp as the tone used by Glenda Jackson MP in her first several points of parliamentary procedure made to Robin Cook MP, Leader of the House of Commons, in the House Judiciary Committee hearings on the suspension of Keith Vaz MP.

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 cashpoint.

The dandelion swayed in the gentle breeze like an oscillating electric fan set on medium.

It was a working class tradition, like fathers chasing kids around with their power tools.

He was deeply in love. When she spoke, he thought he heard bells, as if she were a dustcart reversing.

She was as easy as the Daily Star crossword.

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

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

Her voice had that tense, grating quality, like a first-generation thermal paper fax machine that needed a band tightened.

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

29-09-06, 01:14 PM

Love it.

29-09-06, 01:15 PM

Very good indeed!

Stu · 29-09-06, 01:23 PM

Em, They are similies - only a couple are metaphors

Sorry - They're fantastic!!!!!

29-09-06, 01:36 PM

Fantastic

29-09-06, 01:39 PM

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.

fizzwheel · 29-09-06, 01:55 PM

Quote:

Originally Posted by Jabba

The door had been forced, as forced as the dialogue during the interview portion of Family Fortunes.

Quote:

Originally Posted by Jabba

She was as easy as the Daily Star crossword.

29-09-06, 02:00 PM

Ha ha ha!!!

29-09-06, 02:02 PM

Quote:

Originally Posted by Stu

Em, They are similies - only a couple are metaphors

Sorry - They're fantastic!!!!!

SEE stu i got it all

i bet bill gates is sh1ting himself

Kylie · 29-09-06, 02:23 PM

Very very old but very very good

One that used to be on the list (at least the US versions!) and my personal favourite:
The little boat gently drifted across the pond exactly the way a bowling ball wouldn’t.

29-09-06, 01:07 PM	#1
Jabba Guest Posts: n/a	Jabba's Friday afternoon laugh-in These are metaphors from actual GCSE essays. Honest. Some new ones, too His thoughts tumbled in his head, making and breaking alliances like underpants in a tumble dryer. The ballerina rose gracefully en pointe and extended one slender leg behind her, like a dog at a lamppost. McMurphy fell 12 stories, hitting the pavement like a paper bag filled with vegetable soup. 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 centre. 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 York at 6:36 p.m. travelling at 55 mph, the other from Peterborough at 4:19 p.m. at a speed of 35 mph. The politician was gone but unnoticed, like the full stop after the Dr. on a Dr Pepper can. John and Mary had never met. They were 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 colour of a brick-red crayon. 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. The door had been forced, as forced as the dialogue during the interview portion of Family Fortunes. The plan was simple, like my brother 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 chest heaving like a student on 99p-a-pint 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. 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 knife was as sharp as the tone used by Glenda Jackson MP in her first several points of parliamentary procedure made to Robin Cook MP, Leader of the House of Commons, in the House Judiciary Committee hearings on the suspension of Keith Vaz MP. 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 cashpoint. The dandelion swayed in the gentle breeze like an oscillating electric fan set on medium. It was a working class tradition, like fathers chasing kids around with their power tools. He was deeply in love. When she spoke, he thought he heard bells, as if she were a dustcart reversing. She was as easy as the Daily Star crossword. She grew on him like she was a colony of E. coli and he was room-temperature British beef. She walked into my office like a centipede with 98 missing legs. Her voice had that tense, grating quality, like a first-generation thermal paper fax machine that needed a band tightened. It hurt the way your tongue hurts after you accidentally staple it to the wall

29-09-06, 02:23 PM	#10
Kylie Member Join Date: Aug 2005 Location: Harrow Posts: 305	Very very old but very very good One that used to be on the list (at least the US versions!) and my personal favourite: The little boat gently drifted across the pond exactly the way a bowling ball wouldn’t. __________________ I'm Mike. Kylie is an SK3 with OE lowers, R&G bungs, OE double bubble, Scottoiler, Starcomm, Hamicad tail tidy, bruised and in need of a wash.

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29-09-06, 01:15 PM	#3
Filipe M. Guest Posts: n/a	Very good indeed!

29-09-06, 01:23 PM	#4
Stu Trinity Mega Poster Join Date: Jun 2006 Location: Guildford Posts: 8,027	Em, They are similies - only a couple are metaphors Sorry - They're fantastic!!!!!

29-09-06, 01:39 PM	#6
Ping Guest Posts: n/a	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.