Writing Prompts #10

We worked on metaphors this week.  I’m terrible at metaphors.  Any time I write them they come off as stilted, or weird, or overwrought.  Or all three.  We also talked about pick up lines.  Yes, at my writing group we talked about pick up lines, then used them as a writing prompt.

(I also got to call Mr. Darcy and Heathcliff literary douchebags.  Who are your favorite jerks from fiction?)

Prompt #1–metaphors

We were given a sheet of the first half of a metaphor and then given time to fill them in.  It took me foreeeeeeever…my part of the metaphor is italicized.

Watching him trip over his shoe lace was like…watching a cow tip over.

Making love to him was like…watching a really bad movie.  Can’t wait for it to end so you can go do something fun.

Watching him walk away was like…a celebration in my pants!  No more alimony!

Seeing them together holding hands is like…having tiny girls play double dutch with my intestines.

Letting the monkeys loose on Dorothy was like…riding a rollercoaster.  Will they catch her?  Nooooooo (your voice has to trail off like you fell off a cliff…).

Eating Mom’s horrid mincemeat pie is like…going out and eating a handful of dirt out of the freshly mulched flowerbeds.

Watching that clown die a painful death was like…reliving my 8th birthday party.

Giving birth is like…a slasher film, except this time you hope no one dies?

Being bitten by a werewolf is like…having someone grind a million tiny shards of glass into your skin, then douse it in lemon juice.

Driving on Rt 8 during rush hour is like…running the spanking gauntlet on your birthday.  Someone’s going to smack you in the ass!

Eating a slice of Cheesecake Factory’s Dutch Apple Cheesecake is like…eating a slice of Costco cheesecake, except it costs you three times as much.

Prompt #2 Pick up Lines

The original prompt was to have a rock star use the cheesiest pick up line you could think of on you to try to pick you up…but I protested, as the rock star I had in my head…well, he *would* use cheesy pick up lines, so mine got changed to *I* have to use the pick up line on him…and then the rest of the group did it that way, as well.  

“Do it!” my best friend hissed at me.  “You said if you ever saw him out, you’d use that line on him!”

Mentally, I groaned.  Me and my big mouth–sometimes it felt like you could drive a freight train through it.  In my defense, though, how often do you think you’d see John Mayer out in a bar in Cuyahoga Falls, anyway?

I squared my shoulders and pushed my way through the crowd.  Somehow my friend and I were the only people who had spotted John cozied up to the end of the bar, moodily sucking down microbrews.

I slipped around behind him and gently tugged at the collar of his ironic grey t-shirt.  John started, nearly spilling his nearly  empty microbrew.

“Hey!” he exclaimed, turning around.  “What the fuck?”

“Sorry,” I said, my most innocent look on my face.  I nervously twisted a lock of my long hair and then forced myself to continue, rueing the day I’d opened my big mouth.  “I was just checking your tag to see if you were…Made in Heaven…”

John’s eyes widened as if he couldn’t believe someone was using that cheesiest of pick up lines on him.  Then his features softened, eyes going into that trademark sultry gaze.  “Why, yes I am.”

 

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Published in: on September 10, 2012 at 12:17 pm  Leave a Comment  
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