Worst Analogies - feel free to add your own

It is like....you know...stuff...

My brother is a body piercer. Once a mother tried to talk her daughter out of getting her eyebrow pierced by saying that "she needed a new piercing, like she needed another hole in the head."

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The daughter's reply: "exactly!"

She felt sick, sick like it feels when you go to a buffet because you're cheap and you can eat all you want, so you load up your plate time and time again and just stuff yourself and everybody's watching you because you look like such a pig but you don't care, by damn you're going to get your $11.95 worth, and the wait staff are starting to get pissed off because you've been there so long and there's a huge line up, and then suddenly you feel you have to throw up so you stagger to the bathroom as fast as you can, what with your stomach and esophagus being totally crammed full and you go into a stall and your stomach is just roiling like a turbulent sea in the middle of a terrible storm and you stick your finger down your throat in desperation to ease the pain and discomfort and all of a sudden, everything starts coming up and it just won't stop, you puke so long that your throat starts to hurt, it's so raw, and you swear on your grandmother's grave that you'll never do that again, but after a while your stomach start to feel a lot better and you remember in 7 days, it's Sunday again.

He snuck up on her like something really ******* quiet.

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My book on Kantian philosophy is so dry that if a tsunami hit my house it would be the only thing that remains floating.

This thread is really old, like your younger sister is going to be in 50 years.

Captain Burton stood at the bow of his massive sailing ship, his weathered face resembling improperly cured leather that wouldn't even be used to make a coat or something. (Bryan Semrow)

Jane was toast, and not the light buttery kind, nay, she was the kind that's been charred and blackened in the bottom of the toaster and has to be thrown a away because no matter how much of the burnt part you scrape off with a knife, there's always more blackened toast beneath, the kind that not even starving birds in winter will eat, that kind of toast. (Beth Knutson)

As Fiona slowly drew the heavy velvet curtain aside, her eyes smoldered black, deep, and dark as inside the lungs of a coal miner, although it would be black in anyone's lungs if you could get in there because there wouldn't be any light, even in the pink ones of people who don't smoke. (Lou A. Waller)

This thread brings back memories, like when someone mentions xmas is coming, and you think about how you don't have a job and won't be able to buy presents unless you sell your pink left lung.

Elbert was tough as nails. Not those ten-penny nails you get at the hardware store (what are those in metric, anyway?) but like toenails after a shower or a hot bath with an optional loofah scrub.

That was good jespah, good like in when we were all told americans were going to start using the metric system like the rest of the world, and we all said **** you. That kind of good.

I must have a weird sense of humor, cause I'm getting no humor from these at all.

This was a classic

Yeah, good, like it's a good day not to live in Syria, for sure, but you live in a god-forsaken

oops, took too long to reply, but it wasn't about the USA Had to answer a call from my aged mother and got involved.

I missed this place while I was on hiatus, missed it like a sore, aching toothache where the pain was driving every logical, rational, happy thought out of my head and I had to take Prozac (if that's the right medicine) to give me some respite, but I'm glad to be back and see some old buddies, old as in creaky, achy, fragile joints that resemble dust and maybe some pebbly-things on an X-ray...

I missed this place while I was on hiatus, missed it like a sore, aching toothache where the pain was driving every logical, rational, happy thought out of my head and I had to take Prozac (if that's the right medicine) to give me some respite, but I'm glad to be back and see some old buddies, old as in creaky, achy, fragile joints that resemble dust and maybe some pebbly-things on an X-ray...


Well, next time you miss us all that much, just come on back.