Property Owned As Tenants In Common
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High School Analogies
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When she tried to sing, it sounded like a walrus giving birth to farm equipment.
Her eyes twinkled, like the moustache of a man with a cold.
She was like a magnet: attractive from the back, repulsive from the front.
The ballerina rose gracefully en pointe and extended one slender leg behind her, like a dog at a fire hydrant.
She grew on him like she was a colony of E. Coli and he was room temperature Canadian beef.
She had him like a toenail stuck in a shag carpet.
The lamp just sat there, like an inanimate object.
Her face was a perfect oval, like a circle that had two sides gently compressed by a Thigh Master.
Her eyes were like the stars, not because they twinkle, but because they were so far apart.
His career was blowing up like a man with a broken metal detector walking
through an active minefield.
The sun was below the watery horizon, like a diabetic grandma easing into a warm salt bath.
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 at a 7:00 p.m. Instead of 7:30.
It was as easy as taking candy from a diabetic man who no longer wishes to eat candy.
She had a deep, throaty, genuine laugh, like that sound a dog makes before it throws up.
Their love burned with the fiery intensity of a urinary tract infection.
It’s basically an illusion and no different than if I were to imagine something else, like Batman riding a flying toaster.
lf it was any colder, it would be like being in a place that’s a little colder than it is here.
Joy fills her heart like a silent but deadly fart fills a room with no windows.
The bird flew gracefully into the air like a man stepping on a landmine in zero
gravity.
He felt confused. As confused as a homeless man on house arrest.
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.
When she tried to sing, it sounded like a walrus giving birth to farm equipment.
Her eyes twinkled, like the moustache of a man with a cold.
She was like a magnet: attractive from the back, repulsive from the front.
The ballerina rose gracefully en pointe and extended one slender leg behind her, like a dog at a fire hydrant.
She grew on him like she was a colony of E. Coli and he was room temperature Canadian beef.
She had him like a toenail stuck in a shag carpet.
The lamp just sat there, like an inanimate object.
Her face was a perfect oval, like a circle that had two sides gently compressed by a Thigh Master.
Her eyes were like the stars, not because they twinkle, but because they were so far apart.
His career was blowing up like a man with a broken metal detector walking
through an active minefield.
The sun was below the watery horizon, like a diabetic grandma easing into a warm salt bath.
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 at a 7:00 p.m. Instead of 7:30.
It was as easy as taking candy from a diabetic man who no longer wishes to eat candy.
She had a deep, throaty, genuine laugh, like that sound a dog makes before it throws up.
Their love burned with the fiery intensity of a urinary tract infection.
It’s basically an illusion and no different than if I were to imagine something else, like Batman riding a flying toaster.
lf it was any colder, it would be like being in a place that’s a little colder than it is here.
Joy fills her heart like a silent but deadly fart fills a room with no windows.
The bird flew gracefully into the air like a man stepping on a landmine in zero
gravity.
He felt confused. As confused as a homeless man on house arrest.
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.
Answers
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. In real life we have had: My father is not a crook ( darter of the president - - ]Nixon[ ) and he grows on you - - - like cancer ( Gerald Ford I think )
07:40 Wed 10th Sep 2014
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