Bill V
Well-Known Member
The Washington Post runs a weekly humor writing competion for their readers, called the “Style Invitationalâ€. Each week, they provide a category, and the readers provide their best entries matching that category. Recently, their specified category was “Amusing Analogiesâ€. Here are their winners--from the including many that are simply funny, and others that are so bad they’re funny.
5th place: His heart sank like a rowboat made of fish sticks.
4th place: The evening was as uneventful as a spin of Left Foot Red when your left foot is already on red.
3rd place: Jim was as nervous as an albino penguin in a bowling alley.
2nd place: His eyes were a deep blue, like the color someone's lips turn when he's had a heart attack in the airport, just before he gets hit with the automatic external defibrillators.
And the Winner: Her mouth was so sensual and delicate you would never use the word "piehole" to describe it.
Honorable Mentions:
She felt alone and threatened, like a fat cell on a a fashion model's thigh.
As usual, Larry King's questioning was anything but tough -- it was like trying to stone a heretic with Peeps.
The point of his argument came across about as clearly as the white subtitles in "The March of the Penguins."
The truth was slippery, like a lake trout used as a ping-pong paddle.
She was as thin as Ann Coulter after a bile-ectomy.
She was as controlling as the software that blocks DoctorDentons.com because "Access to lingerie Web sites is forbidden."
When the bomb fell on that freight train in the war zone, it sounded just like a tornado.
There was something about him that just screamed money, as if he'd trained a myna bird to fly around him shouting "money."
Her eyes were like twin cyclopses.
Watching forlornly as his prom date danced with another guy, Jake realized that in the game of love, he was as pathetic as a n00b who's been pwn3d for the first time.
His mustache looked like a fuzzy caterpillar seeking shade under a big nose.
Looking for the right Google entry to plagiarize is like trying to find June 16 on one of those flipping calendars in old B movies.
Her chest was flatter than the "t" on a used-up tube of Crest.
Seeing this guy, it was like I was looking in the mirror, except he was three-dimensional and didn't wear his wedding ring on his right hand.
He mangled his prose the way he mangled his bifocals when they fell in the blender and ruined the margaritas, which he drank anyway, which might have been why he mangled his prose.
The baseball flew at his face like a white meteor with red stitching.
She was jumping up and down laughing hysterically, like a hyena duct-taped to a kangaroo.
Trying to keep down his anger was like trying to stuff Siamese twins into a garbage can: No matter what part you shoved down, some other part popped up.
He knew this argument with his wife was unwinnable, like the war in Iraq, but that's why he couldn't resist one final surge.
There was something funny about it, like it was the opposite of "The Family Circus."
The daylight slowly stole away like a crooked bookkeeper.
His life had reached a dead end, as if he had Googled "What do i do next?" and retrieved "HTTP Error 503: Service Unavailable."
Huck gradually accepts that liberty and self-sacrifice are inseparable, like Paris and Nicole.
Bob felt as out of place as a Kotex decal on a NASCAR vehicle.
She had the lilting, country-fried drawl of a senator from New York.
Her pushed-up cleavage reminded him of two Charlie Brown heads.
The dragonfly's wing was as iridescent as the silvery purple/blue streaks in Arby's sliced roast beef.
Her eyes were entrancing, the pale liquid blue you see in the toilet bowl when the Ty-D-Bol tab
5th place: His heart sank like a rowboat made of fish sticks.
4th place: The evening was as uneventful as a spin of Left Foot Red when your left foot is already on red.
3rd place: Jim was as nervous as an albino penguin in a bowling alley.
2nd place: His eyes were a deep blue, like the color someone's lips turn when he's had a heart attack in the airport, just before he gets hit with the automatic external defibrillators.
And the Winner: Her mouth was so sensual and delicate you would never use the word "piehole" to describe it.
Honorable Mentions:
She felt alone and threatened, like a fat cell on a a fashion model's thigh.
As usual, Larry King's questioning was anything but tough -- it was like trying to stone a heretic with Peeps.
The point of his argument came across about as clearly as the white subtitles in "The March of the Penguins."
The truth was slippery, like a lake trout used as a ping-pong paddle.
She was as thin as Ann Coulter after a bile-ectomy.
She was as controlling as the software that blocks DoctorDentons.com because "Access to lingerie Web sites is forbidden."
When the bomb fell on that freight train in the war zone, it sounded just like a tornado.
There was something about him that just screamed money, as if he'd trained a myna bird to fly around him shouting "money."
Her eyes were like twin cyclopses.
Watching forlornly as his prom date danced with another guy, Jake realized that in the game of love, he was as pathetic as a n00b who's been pwn3d for the first time.
His mustache looked like a fuzzy caterpillar seeking shade under a big nose.
Looking for the right Google entry to plagiarize is like trying to find June 16 on one of those flipping calendars in old B movies.
Her chest was flatter than the "t" on a used-up tube of Crest.
Seeing this guy, it was like I was looking in the mirror, except he was three-dimensional and didn't wear his wedding ring on his right hand.
He mangled his prose the way he mangled his bifocals when they fell in the blender and ruined the margaritas, which he drank anyway, which might have been why he mangled his prose.
The baseball flew at his face like a white meteor with red stitching.
She was jumping up and down laughing hysterically, like a hyena duct-taped to a kangaroo.
Trying to keep down his anger was like trying to stuff Siamese twins into a garbage can: No matter what part you shoved down, some other part popped up.
He knew this argument with his wife was unwinnable, like the war in Iraq, but that's why he couldn't resist one final surge.
There was something funny about it, like it was the opposite of "The Family Circus."
The daylight slowly stole away like a crooked bookkeeper.
His life had reached a dead end, as if he had Googled "What do i do next?" and retrieved "HTTP Error 503: Service Unavailable."
Huck gradually accepts that liberty and self-sacrifice are inseparable, like Paris and Nicole.
Bob felt as out of place as a Kotex decal on a NASCAR vehicle.
She had the lilting, country-fried drawl of a senator from New York.
Her pushed-up cleavage reminded him of two Charlie Brown heads.
The dragonfly's wing was as iridescent as the silvery purple/blue streaks in Arby's sliced roast beef.
Her eyes were entrancing, the pale liquid blue you see in the toilet bowl when the Ty-D-Bol tab
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Translation, please! 
