Analogies Gone Wild

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I love a good analogy.

But, like the people who send marriage proposals to jailed serial killers, I sometimes fall in love with a bad one. A bad analogy, that is. Not serial killers.

(See what I did there?)

Point being, analogies can be a powerful tool when used well. But they can sabotage your message when they’re bad. Below, you’ll find yet more of some of the most widely circulated and worst analogies embraced by our young American progeny.

Read ’em and weep…

On Experience: “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.”

On The Power of Pavement: “McBride fell 12 stories, hitting the pavement like a Hefty Bag filled with vegetable soup.”

On the Alternative Universe: “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.”

On Detail: “He was as tall as a six-foot-three-inch tree.”

On Too Much Detail: “Her hair glistened in the rain like nose hair after a sneeze.”

On Precision: “Her eyes were like two brown circles with big black dots in the center.”

On Obscurity: “The politician was gone but unnoticed, like the period after the Dr. on a Dr Pepper can.”

On Teeth: “They lived in a typical suburban neighborhood with picket fences that resembled Nancy Kerrigan’s teeth.”

On Theater: “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.”

On Confusion: “His thoughts tumbled in his head, making and breaking alliances like underpants in a dryer without Cling Free.”

On Imagination: “The red brick wall was the color of a brick-red Crayola crayon.”

Stimulating, eh?

Not unlike that time you tried to make toast in the bathtub.

I’d give you more, but I’m all out. Like that trayful of chocolate frosted doughnuts that didn’t survive the Policemen’s picnic.