Worst Metaphor of the Week

It’s only Tuesday, but I think we’re done here with the following sentence that concludes this Taylor Marsh post:

It makes my realist vein throb.

For reasons obvious to all, no more entries for “Worst Metaphor of the Week” honors will be accepted for June 20-27, 2010.

Posted by Betty Cracker on 06/22/10 at 05:29 AM • Permalink

Categories: PoliticsEditorialsWar In ErrorSkull Hampers

Share this post:  Share via Twitter   Share via BlinkList   Share via del.icio.us   Share via Digg   Share via Email   Share via Facebook   Share via Fark   Share via NewsVine   Share via Propeller   Share via Reddit   Share via StumbleUpon   Share via Technorati  

As a professional writer, seeing someone get paid to produce careless, silly prose like that really milks my prostate.

As a professional editor, it makes my trigger finger twitch.

As a professional editor, also2, that makes me throw up a little in my mouth.

Throbbing Marsh: Do not WANT.

That literally made my head explode.

It totally palpated my bile duct.

That metaphor would merit the death penalty in Sancho Panza’s kingdom.

It makes my symbolic joint ache.

She probably thinks this throb is about her.

That’s it. I’m changing the name of my blog to Realist Vein Throb.

Scratch that—I’m calling my band Realist Vein Throb.  (Well,  as soon as I form a band.)

face/palm.  This is what happens when you tease the panther.

As a professional nothing at the moment, that made me wonder if Jeebus wept when he read that.

As a former proofreader, I can’t help wondering if Mushy didn’t mean Really, My Mane’s a Blob.

But boy, did that tie my tubes in a knot!

‘Realist vein throb’, eh?

From a former Miss Teen USA and Miss America contestant….

Cougar, it’s whats for dinner!

Page 1 of 1 pages

Sorry, commenting is closed for this post.

<< Back to main