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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.
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 p.m. instead of 7:30. (Roy Ashley, Washington)
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 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 6:36 p.m. traveling at 55 mph, the other from Topeka at 4:19 p.m. at a speed of 35 mph.
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.
JN: The sunlight glistened and danced on the surface of the waves, just in the way that snails sitting on a plate in the dark don't.
JB: Ah, but the moonlight sparkled and shone on the beach rather moresoftly than the flourescent lights in the chemistry building illuminate McHarris' scalp...
JN: And the people lying on the beach in bikinis and shorts tannedand warmed themselves in the glorious sunlight just in the way that students at MSU can't because it's COLD!!!!!!!!!!!
JB: And the Michigan snow continued to fall softly and gently, rather unlike anvils and people on heavy medication, on into the middle of April. The wind blew loudly, sounding like two piccolos and an oboe trying to tune, and the grass bowed toward the ground just like somepeople think people bow before them but those same people do not...
JN: The exhausted girl fell into bed like a 400-pound black chef withmono studying to be a medtech might fall into his plate of mashed potatoes.
JB: She snickered as she realized that the response of her friend was as original as an email joke. But she noticed that the potatoes squishing made the exact same sound that a 7 ton dinosaur might make if he stepped on a slug.
JN: The candle sputtered and went out like an outlaw in a spaghetti western might lie on the ground and mutter, while gasping for air, "I got into thievin' only because my daddy lost the farm when I was four" as a last excuse to the hero before dying.
JB: S uddenly, she realized that her computer was slower than a dead snail on a stopped conveyor belt.
JN: The girl sat at her desk and stared at the test in front of her like it was a t.v. screen and every channel was covering the latest disaster with tons of people dead or dying and fires like the fire of hell.
JB: "Depressed?" asked her friend, her eyes shimmering with concern like the sticky, scuffed floor of a college chemistry building on a dreary spring day in Michigan just before final exams does not. The weight of the exam lay heavy on her shoulders, too, like a brick of cheese that has been growing in the refrigerator for several weeks lies limply upon the crusty rind of stale bread that even thebirds do not deign to peck.
JB: She laughed heartily as though she were laughing at her own private joke--one that she would only share with those who knew that Right Said Fred's famous little ditty "I'm Too Sexy" was now within her grasp--and since no one but she knew that, it was still a private joke.
JN: The girl's heart beat hard and fast as though it was about to jump OUT of her chest and hop frantically across the floor, while in her eyes was reflected the flashing lights of the computer screen as her character ran away from the big, nasty Butcher (who surely had big, pointy teeth, but was just as surely NOT called Tim)
JB: She stretched like a cat and her muscles and joints popped like corn as she looked about the room through eyes that seemed to be coated with superglue. Opening them had been like a monkey trying to shove Pavoratti into Spandex. Her stomach rumbled loudly, echoing through the empty house much like a cannon shot. The reverberations almost knocked her off her feet as she unsteadily made her way down to the kitchen rather like a drunk trying to walk during an earthquake. Dimly, she heard her cat mewing insistantly, rather like a hawk screeching before it swoops down upon its prey. He blinked Fool's Gold eyes at her and pulled a packing box on top of himself which subdued his cries much like the sound of an approaching train is muffled upon entering a tunnel.