Surreal Compliments

Wood nymphs sprinkle your path with bowling balls while you dance and prowl in the sequined moonlight with leftover heads of lettuce.

What a sweet thing to say! I would really love an illustration of this. It might counteract the trauma I carried away from a bed&breakfast that shall remain unnamed. Suffice it to say that for an entire week, I spent every breakfast gazing in mute horror at a pseudo-romantic travesty depicting a sweet young child cutely kneeling next to a burbling stream in the midst of an idyllic forest. I think there was a shimmering sunbeam breaking through the foliage involved, as well, and quite probably brightly colored birds. If there were bunnies or deer, I've successfully repressed them.

Your presence reminds one of a blind jackal, eternally dependent upon misguided archbishops to provide instruction in bowling.

One can picture the impact of this person's presence...

Your nose hair is pleasingly twisted with the roots of a bristlecone pine that is so precariously perched on the side of a cliff it may easily uproot and fall upon the Republican lobbyists below.

I have often thought so myself, but it's always good (and so flattering!) to get an unbiased outside view.

Your eyes shine with the greed of a misplaced tea strainer. Also:
Your eyes glow like naked livers burning in the sun.

Sick of the tired old similes and metaphores used to describe the incomparable brightness of those emerald, chocolate, silver, gold-flecked or cerulean orbs? Sun, stars, blazing infernos, the hearthfires of home... what a bore. How about one of these fresh and descriptive phrases instead? Very gripping, I would say.

Your beautiful Bulgarian bricks stack like the thousand eyes of Estonian potatos, peering amid fuzzy dreams of corrugated cardboard.

*sigh* Ah, romance...

Want your own? Go here.