the speculator buys cto, page-8

Heheh, It's ok, would've been funny if it was skaterboy. I do lean to the over wordy. For mastery of English I'd prefer to be able to do this. A 'grahammac' posted it elsewhere. It was collected by examiners of Year 12 English.


John and Mary had never met. They were like two hummingbirds who had also never met.
Even in his last years, Grandad had a mind like a steel trap, only one that had been left out so long, it had rusted shut.
The plan was simple, like my brother-in-law Phil. But unlike Phil, this plan just might work.
The young fighter had a hungry look, the kind you get from not eating for a while.
"Oh, Jason, take me!" she panted, her breasts heaving like a Uni student on $1-a-beer night.
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.
The ballerina rose gracefully en pointe and extended one slender leg behind her, like a dog at a fire hydrant.
He was deeply in love. When she spoke, he thought he heard bells, as if she were a garbage truck backing up.
She was as easy as the TV Guide crossword.
She walked into my office like a centipede with 98 missing legs.
It hurt the way your tongue hurts after you accidentally staple it to the wall.
Her face was a perfect oval, like a circle that had its two sides gently compressed by a Thigh Master.
She grew on him like she was a colony of E. coli and he was room-temperature prime beef.
She had a deep, throaty, genuine laugh like the sound a dog makes just before it throws up.
Her vocabulary was as bad as, like, whatever.
He was as tall as a six-foot three-Inch tree.
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.
The little boat gently drifted across the pond exactly the way a bowling ball wouldn't.
McBride fell 12 stories, hitting the pavement like a supermarket bag filled with vegetable soup.
From the attic came an unearthly howl. The whole scene had an eerie, surreal quality, like when you're on holiday in another city and Sex in the City comes on at 9:00 p.m. instead of 9:30.
The hailstones leaped from the pavement, just like maggots when you fry them in hot oil.
Her hair glistened in the rain like a nose hair after a sneeze.