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Here are the winners
of the "worst analogies ever written in a high school essay"
contest
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
your eye like one of those pointy hook latches that used to
dangle from screen doors and would fly up whenever you banged
the door open again.
McBride fell
12 stories, hitting the pavement like a Hefty Bag filled with
vegetable soup.
Her hair
glistened in the rain like nose hair after a sneeze.
The little
boat gently drifted across the pond exactly the way a bowling
ball wouldn't.
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 instead of 7:30.
Her eyes were
like two brown circles with big black dots in the center.
Bob was as
perplexed as a hacker who means to access T:flw.quid55328.com\aaakk/ch@ung
but gets T:\flw.quidaaakk/ch@ung by mistake.
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.
Her date was
pleasant enough, but she knew that if her life was a movie this
guy would be buried in the credits as something like "Second
Tall Man."
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 6:36p.m. traveling at 55mph, the other
from Topeka at 4:19p.m. at a speed of 35mph.
The
politician was gone but unnoticed, like the period after the Dr.
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. 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.
His thoughts
tumbled in his head, making and breaking alliances like
underpants in a dryer without Cling Free.
The red brick
wall was the color of a brick-red Crayola crayon.
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