Though we are not receiving the cruel ice that was predicted, a lovely wintery mix has been falling off and on since yesterday morning and should continue through Sunday. Most of us have hankered down in our cozy nooks as nature displays its vibrant white fireworks. We watch fascinated from our warms enclaves debating whether to brave January’s arsenal or just sit back and enjoy being reclusive hermits.
The Topfive.com’s 20 Bad Suspense Novel Metaphors or Similes
20> Worn down at the edges like a Times Square hooker, the
caretaker's last tooth lay on the floor like a yellow Chiclet.
19> When she stepped out of her dress, she had the body of a
90-year-old nun, if the nun looked as young, attractive,
and sexy as the dame standing in front of me.
18> The situation had become topsy-turvy -- like Christmas in the
summer, if you're in Australia.
17> The information imbedded on the stolen computer chip was like
an explosive so explosive it could explode, creating a massive
explosion.
16> As I watched through the slatted shades, her bosom bounce like
her suspicious husband's first check.
15> The killer was a misplaced comma in the jaunty, happy sentence
that made up the party crowd.
14> His face looked like an ice sculpture. Not one of those
pretty ones in the middle of a cruise ship buffet, but the
kind they do in a contest with a chainsaw -- and it had been
out in the heat too long.
13> Like any family, this house had its secrets, secrets it grimly
refused to reveal, and would continue to refuse to reveal even
if it could speak, which unlike a family, or at least most
members of most families, it couldn't.
12> The air of danger perversely made Nina's nipples harden,
like that Magic Shell stuff on a bowl of ice cream.
11> From his vantage point in the balcony, the would-be assassin
looked down on the debating candidates like a webhead looking
down on an AOL user.
10> The sudden darkness made the Countess tense, like Bobby Jerome
that time with the bicycle in 7th grade, remember?
9> There was something funny about the kidnapping crime scene
that Special Agent Frievald couldn't quite place, and the
thought stuck with him throughout the rest of the day,
like those tiny little bits of the circumferent skin from
the bologna slices on a foot-long Subway Cold Cut Trio that
get stuck in between the last two molars on the upper left,
on the tongue side where you can't possibly reach them with
a toothpick, your fingernails, or even a systematically
straightened paper clip, they just sit there and make every-
thing you eat at your next meal taste vaguely like vinegar
and mayonnaise, and then somehow -- quietly but miraculously
-- they disappear by themselves in the middle of the night
while you're asleep, just like the visiting Countess appeared
to have done.
8> Her parting words lingered heavily inside me like last night's
Taco Bell.
7> The bullet burned Gilmore's gut like the first piss after a
long night in a Singapore brothel.
6> A single drop of sweat slowly inched down Chad's brow --
a tiny, glistening Times Square New Year's Eve Ball of
desperation.
5> His .38 barked fire, like John Goodman's butt after a chili
cookoff.
4> Her blazing eyes dance like Astaire and Rogers, but since they
were crossed, it was an ocular tango, and my eyes had to
foxtrot just to maintain eye contact.
3> She had a voice so husky it could have pulled a dogsled, and
the gun she was holding gave me a bad case of barrel envy.
2> The neon sign reflected off his gun, like the moonlight
reflects off my brother-in-law's bald head after a night
of beer drinking and cow-tipping.
1> Unable to contain his rage, he burst like a pimple of emotion,
the pus of his fury streaking the mirror of calm in the
bathroom of his life.
We probably should have been staying inside and avoiding the dangerously slick roads, but I had a hankerin'...
This is where I was headed....
To get me one of these. I had to have a fix... and like the mailman... no rain, sleet or snow will stop me.
