Morning arrived like a pig in a pokey in Poughkeepsie with a porcupine in a porkpie hat as a cellmate…or is that just me?
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Morning arrived like the Great White Wizard—a white rider on a white steed, shining bright and pursued forever by Ahabalrog. The Captain of Mordor with a peg tail and an eternal grudge has but one wish: for the harpoon of Udun to sink too greedily and too deep.
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Morning arrived like a school of sinus piranhas. Placid, gentle…is that a bloody nose?!
*horrible, distant fish-slapping noises like pouring a bucket of carp down the stairs*
*violent sneezing*
*a fading scream*
Fine, pass me the damn neti pot.
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Dear Morning, it’s not me it’s you, you arrive every damned day like clockwork in some new and diabolically absurd way. It’s too much…wait, is that cream pie?!
KERFLOOOOOOOF!!!
Fuck you morning, fuck you.
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Morning arrived like a unicorn on a unicycle—one wheel, one horn, and one more reason to question the choices you made the night before.
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Morning arrived like a lime jello marshmallow meteor surprise—it’s kind of like a giant flaming tiki drink, only with more gravity and less alcohol, though the net effect is not dissimilar, especially the flattening at the end, and the smoking crater.
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Afternoon chased the sun across the sky, barking like a Yorkie absolutely convinced they’re going to take down that wolfhound. This time for sure! Woofwoofwoofwoo…you’re bigger closer up…oofWoo…Yip? FoowFoowFoow*
*Woof while backing rapidly
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Morning arrived like a rat in a rum bottle—it might be a drowned rat, but at least it died happy.
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Morning arrived like a gourmet gorilla in your kitchen—what’s it going to cook? Anything it wants to, and not only will you have to say you like it, but you won’t dare complain about all the fur in the soup.
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Morning arrived like an anxious aardvark—so much panting and pacing and stepping on own tongue. Sticky!
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Morning arrived en media res:
Aieee!
Blam!
Blam! Blam!
*slow motion blood spray*
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Morning arrived like a brick of platonium, the only radioactive elements guaranteed not to react with biological material. Ain’t nothing happening here and you can just forget that whole breeder reactor, the idea is just gross!
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Morning arrived like a hammock full of sleeping bees. Which would be fine if I hadn’t arrived first.
♫ Stay asleep little bees,
♫ Won’t you please…
♫ All abuzz,
♫ Soft as fuzz…
♫ Gotta sneeze…
…
…
Fuck
ACHOOOO
*angry buzzing*
AIEEE!
*and, curtain*
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Morning arrived like a freshly fallen blanket of sn…wait, why is it yellow? Is that pollen? Aieeee, my allergies!
*catastrophic sneezing noises that come faster and faster until they blend into a roar like a rocket that fades slowly into the sky above*
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Morning arrived like the Dance of the Ours: Mine?! Mine?! Mine?! Or, as we refer to it here, Cat and Monkey argue over the yogurt tub. This detective ain’t hard-boiled, he’s carefully cultured and low-fat.
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Morning arrived like the realization that everything is sheepshape, and not your post shearing sheep either. We are talking maximum floof with extra lanolin and so many twigs and bits of unidentifiable brown stuff that it makes your follicles weep. It’s a Scottish wake up.
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Morning arrived like a deep fried cheese turd. What worries me more than the idea of cheese eating is what it looks like it’s been eating…is that a mouse skull?
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Morning arrived like Sauron’s big number for LOTR, The Musical: If You Want It You Damn Well Put A Ring On It!
“All the mortal men, all the mortal men. All the dwarven lords…”
It’s the nine fingered armored gloves in the dance routine that really sells it.
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Morning arrived like the smell of flowers after a spring rain…corpse flowers. As everyone knows, nothing says early a.m. like soggy rotting meat.
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Morning arrived like a spam locomotive—it’s fast, it’s meatesque, and it’s salty fun for everybody but that poor cow on the tracks. Moooooooo!
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Morning arrived like a gibbon with a fork and an outlet—you know what’s going to happen, but you can’t look away.
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Morning arrived like a chocolate easter oyster on the marzipan half-shell—you’re pretty sure somebody’s marketing department was huffing markers, but you have the disturbing feeling you’re going to like it.
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Morning arrived like a skating rink dropped from a great height.
\o/ -“Oh no!”
[]
/ \
THUD
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Morning arrived like a revelation…from Cthulhu…about your bed…and what he left there just for you. Sooooo cold and slippery, and soooooo many tentacles.
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Morning arrived like the dawn sun hurling bright spears of sunlight through your bedroom windows…crash, thunk, sizzle, FOOMPF.
AAAAAH! EVERYTHING IS ON FIRE! AAAAAH!
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Morning arrived like a Fox in a Jurassic hen house—my what a big beak you have Mr. Chicken, and such long feathers, and what huge teeth…you know, I was just leaving.
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Morning arrived like a moose at a hatrack convention—so close to on point, but still just a-moose-bouché off.
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Morning arrived like a kakiphony—the cataclysmic noise made by million incompetents all crying out at once. They were nearly silenced too. Fortunately for them the Dunning-Kruger-Star was designed by the emperor’s son-in-law instead of a reputable engineering firm.
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Morning arrived like the realization that in one day the world’s largest shitgibbon will no longer be jumping up and down on your face. As mornings go, that’s apeses!
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Morning arrived like a broadway reboot of CATS as (naked mole) RATS—All The Pizazz, None Of The Fur! Basically, the uncanny valley did a conga line through my frontal lobes as they did Jellicle Rats on the pillows.
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