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FW: FW: Analogies and Metaphors Found in High School Essays-Enjoy!!

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  • Lewine, Mark
    ... those ... just ... bowling ... for ... _____ Add photos to your messages with MSN 8. Get 2 months FREE*.
    Message 1 of 1 , Jun 18, 2003
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      >From: "Hubbard, Sharon"

      >To: "David"

      >Subject: FW: Analogies and Metaphors Found in High School Essays

      >Date: Wed, 22 Jan 2003 15:08:24 -0500

      >

      >

      >

      > 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 danger of looking at a solar eclipse without one

      >

      >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.

      >

      >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.

      >

      >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 4:19p.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, Grandpappy 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.

      >

      >he young fighter had a hungry look, the kind you get from not eating for

      >a while.

      >

      >"Oh, Jason, take me!" she panted, her breasts heaving like a college

      >freshman on $1-a-beer 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.

      >

      >The knife was as sharp as the tone used by Rep. Sheila Jackson Lee

      >(D-Tex.) in her first several points of parliamentary procedure made to

      >Rep. Henry Hyde (R-Ill.) in the House Judiciary Committee hearings on

      >the impeachment of President William Jefferson Clinton.

      >

      >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.

      >

      >She was as easy as the TV Guide crossword.

      >

      >Her eyes were like limpid pools, only they had forgotten to put in any

      >pH cleanser.

      >

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

      >

      >Her voice had that tense, grating quality, like a 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.

      >



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