Washington Post Weekend Humor

The Washington Post held a contest years ago in which readers composed and sent in their worst analogies. Of the many entries received, about fifty made the shortlist for the prize of the worst analogy. Below are some of the final wry, dry and witty analogical concoctions you will most probably not  find in a bestseller. Enjoy!

He fell for her like his heart was a mob informant and she was the East River.

He was as lame as a 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.

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.

Her eyes were like two brown circles with big black dots in the center.

He was as tall as a 6′3″ tree.

Shots rang out, as shots are wont to do.

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.

John and Mary had never met. They were like two hummingbirds who had also never met.

The ballerina rose gracefully en pointe and extended one slender leg behind her, like a dog at a fire hydrant.

The lamp just sat there, like an inanimate object.

I felt a nameless dread. Well, there probably is a long German name for it, like Geschpooklichkeit or something, but I don’t speak German. Anyway, it’s a dread that nobody knows the name for, like those little square plastic gizmos that close your bread bags. I don’t know the name for those either.

McBride 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.

Long separated by cruel fate, the star-crossed lovers raced across the grassy field toward each other like two freight trains, one having left Cleveland at 6:36 p.m. traveling at 55 mph, the other from Topeka at 4:19 p.m. at a speed of 35 mph.

The little boat gently drifted across the pond exactly the way a bowling ball wouldn’t.

He felt like he was being hunted down like a dog, in a place that hunts dogs, I suppose.

The plan was simple, like my brother-in-law Bill. But unlike Bill, this plan just might work.

The young fighter had a hungry look, the kind you get from not eating for a while.

It hurt the way your tongue hurts after you accidentally staple it to the wall.

He was deeply in love. When she spoke, he thought he heard bells, as if she were a garbage truck backing up.

Her date was pleasant enough, but she knew that if her life was a movie this guy would be buried in the credits as something like “Second Tall Man.”

Oooo, he smells bad, she thought, as bad as Calvin Klein’s Obsession would smell if it were called Enema and was made from spoiled Spamburgers instead of natural floral fragrances.

Bob was as perplexed as a hacker who means to access T:flw.quid55328.com\aaakk/ch@ung but gets T:\flw.quidaaakk/ch@ung by mistake.

But wait, that's not all! 

The Washington Post also runs a regular contest for neologisms; readers send in newly coined words and expressions.  Here are a few of the best and most original:

Coffee: The person upon whom one coughs.

Flabbergasted: Appalled over how much weight you’ve gained.

Esplanade: To attempt an explanation while drunk.

Negligent: Absentmindedly answering the door in your nightgown.

Lymph: To walk with a lisp.

Balderdash: A rapidly receding hairline.

Rectitude: The formal, dignified bearing adopted by proctologists.

Dopeler Effect: The tendency of stupid ideas to seem smarter when they come at you rapidly. 

Pokemon: A Rastafarian proctologist.

And to end, one of my favorite deadpan analogies:

"A day without sunshine is like... you know... night." - Steve Martin

Have a good weekend.