The Harry Potter 'Bad Metaphors' challenge:
Full list: here
She grew on him like she was a colony of E. coli and he was room-temperature British beef.
Her face was a perfect oval, like a circle that had its two other sides gently compressed by a Thigh Master.
His thoughts tumbled in his head, making and breaking alliances like underpants in a tumble dryer.
She caught your eye like one of those pointy hook latches that used to dangle from doors and would fly up whenever you banged the door open again.
The little boat gently drifted across the pond exactly the way a bowling ball wouldn't. (slash)
McMurphy fell 12 stories, hitting the pavement like a paper bag filled with vegetable soup.
Her hair glistened in the rain like nose hair after a sneeze.
Her eyes were like two brown circles with big black dots in the centre.
Her vocabulary was as bad as, like, whatever.
He was as tall as a six-foot-three-inch tree. (slash, 15)
The hailstones leaped from the pavement, just like maggots when you fry them in hot grease.
Long separated by cruel fate, the star-crossed lovers raced across the grassy field toward each other like two freight trains, one having left York at 6:36 p.m. travelling at 55mph, the other from Peterborough at 4:19 a speed of 35mph.
The politician was gone but unnoticed, like the full stop after the Dr.on a Dr Pepper can.
John and Mary had never met. They were like two hummingbirds who had also never met.
Even in his last years, Grandpa had a mind like a steel trap, only one that had been left out so long it had rusted shut.
Most of the rest (somewhat altered in places):
The young fighter had a hungry look, the kind you get from not eating for a while.
The door had been forced, as forced as the dialogue during the interview portion of Family Fortunes.
Her voice had that tense, grating quality, like a first-generation thermal paper fax machine that needed a band tightened.
She walked into my office like a centipede with 98 missing legs.
The knife was as sharp as the tone used by Glenda Jackson MP in her first several points of parliamentary procedure made to Robin Cook MP, Leader of the House ofCommons, in the House Judiciary Committee hearings on the suspension of Keith Vaz MP.
The plan was simple, like my brother Phil. But unlike Phil, this plan just might work.
He was as lame as a duck. Not the metaphorical lame duck either, but real duck that was actually lame. Maybe from stepping on a land mine or something.
Her artistic sense was exquisitely refined, like someone who can tell butter from "I Can't Believe It's Not Butter."
She had a deep, throaty, genuine laugh, like that sound a dog makes just before it throws up.
She was as easy as the Daily Star crossword.
It hurt the way your tongue hurts after you accidentally staple it to the wall.
The dandelion swayed in the gentle breeze like an oscillating electric fan set on medium.
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 cashpoint.