Some people try too hard, or not at all. Heh. This made me smile, thought I'd share. ----- McMurphy fell 12 stories, hitting the pavement like a Hefty bag filled with vegetable soup. The little boat gently drifted across the pond exactly the way a bowling ball wouldn't. Her vocabulary was as bad as, like, whatever. 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 red brick wall was the color of a brick-red Crayola crayon. Even in his last years, Grandpappy 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. 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 knife was as sharp as the tone used by Rep. Sheila Jackson Lee (D-Tex.) in her first several points of parliamentary procedure made to Rep. Henry Hyde (R-Ill.) in the House Judiciary Committee hearings on the impeachment of President William Jefferson Clinton. Her eyes were like limpid pools, only they had forgotten to put in any pH cleanser. She grew on him like she was a colony of E. coli and he was room-temperature Canadian beef. 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 voice had that tense, grating quality, like a first-generation thermal paper fax machine that needed a band tightened.