Soon after my son-in-law arrived in California, he took an ESL (English as a Second Language)
course & had gotten a job as a stock boy. He came over one day &
said, “Mom, this guy at work keeps asking me questions around lunchtime & I
don’t know what he’s saying. I looked up the words & couldn’t find
them in the dictionary.” I asked him what the words were. He told
me “jeet” & “wajeet”. If he hadn’t mentioned that it was around
lunchtime, I’m not sure I could’ve helped him. I told him his coworker
was asking, “Did you eat?” & “What did you eat?”
Always make yourself clear!! Can you imagine who/what would answer these ads?
Wanted: Precast concrete man.
Need: Woman to run up curtains.
Wanted: A room by two gentlemen 30 feet long and 20 feet wide.
Butcher's sign: Try our sausages.
None like them.
A tailor's guarantee: If the smallest hole
appears after six months' wear, we will make another absolutely free.
Lost: A small pony belonging to a young lady with a silver mane
and tail.
Barber's sign: Hair cut while you wait.
Lost: Wallet belonging to a young man made of calf skin
Being a grandma,
Grandmas are women, too!!
Do you see a lack of imagination in these similes/metaphors?
OK, this one shows imagination:
Like a midget at a
urinal, I was going to have to be on my toes.
But these need some work:
He was as tall as a 6′3″ tree.
He was as welcome as a bacon sandwich at a Bar Mitzvah.
He ran faster than a chicken being chased by Colonel Sanders.
Her face was a perfect oval, like a circle
that had its two sides gently compressed by a Thigh Master.
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 7:00 p.m. instead of 7:30..
She had a deep, throaty, genuine laugh, like
that sound a dog makes just before it throws up.
The ballerina rose gracefully en pointe and
extended one slender leg behind her, like a dog at a fire hydrant.
He was like a lame duck. Not the metaphorical
lame duck, either, but a real duck that was actually lame. Maybe from
stepping on a land mine or something.
Her vocabulary was as bad as, like, whatever.
She grew on him like she was a colony of E.
coli and he was room-temperature Canadian beef.
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.
He fell 12 stories, hitting the pavement
like a Hefty bag filled with vegetable soup.
His thoughts tumbled in his head, making and
breaking alliances like underpants in a dryer without Cling Free.
Her hair glistened in the rain like a nose
hair after a sneeze.
“Oh, Jason, take me!” she panted, her breasts
heaving like a college freshman on $1-a-beer night.
He was deeply in love. When she spoke, he
thought he heard bells, as if she were a garbage truck backing up.
They were as good friends as the people on “Friends.”
The sardines were packed as tight as the people in the coach
section of a 747.
There is no need for profanity.
Keep your language clean!!
I got this from River at driftingthroughlife:
Follow your heart, but
don’t forget to take your brain with you----fishducky
