Bad Noir—Morning Arrived

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Morning arrived like Birnam Wood at Dunsinane:

Knock, knock, knock, candygram for Macbeth!

This is a landshark isn’t…aiiiiie!

 

Morning arrived like a vampire at an all night orthodontist’s office—wow, look at that bite, come in, I can fix that fo—urk.

 

Morning arrived like a cold lamb chop cut into the shape of a tiny T-Rex and delivered via carrier pigeon—this meal brought to you by squab and gravity and the number 4.

 

Morning arrived like a spider monkey in an after school special—it’s got a socially relevant problem, middling acting chops, and a prehensile tail, which is how too many of us wake up these days.

 

Morning arrived like a bouncing baby non sequitur—all harsh angled and shining irrelevancies in search of a conversation to derail with aplomb, elan, and lemon bars.

 

Morning arrived like a seagull in a seersucker suit—that is one dapper flying rat…ooh, was. Turns out sleeves and wings is an inelegant approach to applied aerodynamics. *whistlesplat*

 

Morning arrived like a squid in square dance—grab your partner, no just one dammit, wait leave that submarine alone, and put the fiddler down!

 

Morning arrived like a refrigerator full of June bugs, which is fine until you forget about it and try get that iced coffee…I hate the way they crunch between your toes as you run screaming for the exit.

 

Morning arrived like a greased wombat on a stack of flapjacks—Which is quite a bit like an olive-oiled otter on a pile of griddlecakes, if you know what I mean…nudge nudge.

 

Morning arrived like a squirrel in the cookie jar—stuffed, happy, and willing to fight you to the death for the last gingersnap.

 

Morning arrived like a clown driving a train into a tire fire, but enough about Rudy Giuliani.

 

Morning arrived like a fifth of excellent bourbon…delivered to the back of your skull…still in the bottle…by an orangutan…a drunk orangutan…with mange…and fleas. Or, as we in America call it Tuesdays with Trump.

 

Morning arrived like the pangolin of unusual side effects–getting out from under the covers may result in several hours spent as a hat rack in the House of Usher. If condition persists, please consult a physician and/or melancholic poet.

 

Morning arrived like a tiny dwarf prospecting for gemstones behind your right eyeball—it’s hard to say whether the sneeze he finds instead is going to hurt him or you more. #sinusdwarves

 

Morning arrived like a enormous mythical bird snatching you out of bed and carrying you hundreds of feet above the frozen ground—you know the drill: stuck between a roc and a hard place.

 

Morning arrived like twitter messing with your timeline—nothing is where you want it to be, linearity has lost all meaning, and the center cannot hold. Dissolve to chaos.

 

Morning arrived like a plaid zebra—fancy, fashionable, and then tragically kilt for an outfit in the pipes and drums.

 

Morning arrived like seventeen hungry people expecting a roast turkey with all the trimmings, but all you can manage is one odd duck and you’re plastered instead of roasted. Time to order pizza and sneak out while everyone argues over the ingredients.

 

Morning arrived like a dawning realization someone was wrong on the internet. Sure, every second of every day of every week of every year arrived like that now, but this time it was morning and I was a hard boiled detective so the observation was pithy and trenchant.

 

Morning arrived like a hippopotamus in a hang glider—I flit, I float, I fleetly flee, I flyayayieeeeeee. This is followed by the roof over your bed hitting you mere instants before the hippo. See also: Flat Stanley.

 

Morning arrived like a giant centipede in a pantsuit—it puts its pants on like everyone else, one leg after one leg after one leg after one leg at a time.

 

Morning arrived like a velociraptor on a hot tin roof—briefly terrifying and terrifyingly hot, followed by a very final sort of crunching noise and a spray of poorly simulated arterial blood to the sounds of Jeff Goldblum doing the man was not meant to meddle mambo.

 

Morning arrived like a dame in a red dress, but not a real red dress, that’s cruel.

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This tweet brought to you by Bucknaked Mammals and their smash hit: If I Had A Million Otters.

 

Morning arrived like a pegoppotamus—and you thought flying _pigs_ were a bad idea… All the blubber, ten times the attitude, and those perfect white wings…

 

Morning arrived like a spherical cow in a french maid costume walking into a bar—unfortunately, as physics humor teaches us, the punchline can’t escape the event horizon of the joke in this case.

 

Morning arrived like a peanut butter and Tasmanian devil sandwich—in Morning Arrived Land sandwich eats you.

 

Morning arrived like an ostrich egg omelette—it’s too big, it tastes funny, and there’s an ostrich that wants to murder you. I hate that.

 

Morning arrived like a sockful of bumblebees to the face—kind of mooshy and buzzy and soft, but also very very angry. Oh, and is that a hole in the toeeeeeee!

 

Morning arrived like a cougar in a cathouse—not that kind of cougar, silly, the maneating…the kind with the whiskers, dammit and…where the hell was I going with this metaphor? Screw it, you’re on your own, reader.

 

Morning arrived like a Mack truck running over the cougar that was about to devour you while you slept—you’re grateful and all, but a Mack truck just went through your bedroom and you’re going to have to clean that shit up. 10-4, good buddy?

 

Morning arrived like a dumpsterload of anxiety delivered by catapult—no, really, just like that with a tiny rock of hope buried in the heart of it. Ow.

 

Morning arrived like a two hundred pound squeaky toy landing in your bed—it’s not so much the impact as the implications that stresses you out. Nice, big carnivorous whatever you are, who’s a goodaieeeee! *CHOMP*

 

Morning arrived like a walrus getting braces—an unfortunate choice in service of unreasonable beauty standards for an unlikely end.

 

Morning arrived like finding an unexpected selfie with Yog-Sothoth and the Dallas Cowboy cheerleaders on your phone—that plus the headache leaves you pretty sure you must have done unspeakable things last night, but you’re kind of disappointed you don’t remember…

 

Morning arrived like a basket of flying monkeys—which is basically a fruit basket if fruit screamed, tried to murder you, and could fly…so, tangelos basically.

 

Morning arrived like a skunk on sleeping gently on your pillow—sure it’s cute, but you’ve got no idea how it got there, or how to get away from it safely, and you’re sure as hell not going back to sleep.

 

Morning arrived like a will-o-wisp at a rave—supernatural sadness. It’s hard to lead people to their dooms when you’re the dimmest light at the party.

 

Morning arrived like a werewind—it’s cold, it bites, it won’t stop blowing its own horn, and on the full moon next, it’s you.

 

Morning arrived like a merwombat—sooooo cute, but the smell…wet wombat and fish tails, ugh!

 

Morning arrived like the first three bars of a song you’ve been trying to get out of your head—curse you forever, IT’S A SMALL WORLD…after all.

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After all.

 

 

Morning arrived like a bucket of chameleons in your underwear drawer—hey this feels a little odd, why is my fly…AIEEE!

 

Morning arrived like a sub-orbital cream pie delivery system—remember to close your eyes and mouth and breathe out through your nose because re-entry heated cream in the sinuses stings like a whole swarm of bees.

 

Morning arrived like a brand new console game—it needed an hour of updates straight out of the box and it was still buggier than a mosquito convention in the Great Dismal Swamp.

 

Morning arrived like a koala bear on an ice floe—where’s my fucking eucalyptus, man? Do I look like a fucking polar bear!? Do I?

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Koalas; nature’s very own belligerent drunk.

 

Morning arrived like a koala in a three piece suit—mean, stoned, stinking of eucalyptus, and terminally smug about it all.

 

Morning arrived like a walrus at the airport bar—drunk, disorderly, and just as confused about how it got there as you are. Buy it a drink and move on.

 

Morning arrived like a werewolf in a whiskey distillery. Not only does this one have a bite, but it really will put hair on your chest, and at the next full moon you can pull the hair of the dog that bit you out of your own tail.

 

Morning arrived like a dolphin in your bathtub.

“Ikkkik kakkkik kiikkkk ikakkk?!”

Which translates loosely as:

“You think you got problems?!”

 

Morning arrived like a pack of porcupines in a pedigreed poodle parlor—hand me that set of clippers…ow! Sonofbagle! Dammit!

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Actually, they’re kind of adorable that way…

 

Morning arrived like ten thousand pounds of dandelion floofs blown gently in through your windows. Individually, not a problem. Collectively, like swimming through a sea of tiny doubts. So much easier to just stay in bed and let them muffle you away from the world.

 

Morning arrived like a helicopter load of live eels—SPLORSH!

AIEEE!

*squealing tires*

*a cliff*

*silence and time for one last thought*

Why did I decide to drive the convertible today of all days?

 

Morning arrived like a windsurfer on a sea of crap. It doesn’t matter how good the ride is, everything stinks and you know it’s going to end in shit.

 

Morning arrived like a bus full of drunken yak herders—yes it’s your bus, no you can’t just take the next one, and why oh why did you pick today to wear your Chewbacca jacket?

 

Morning arrived like a badger in the compost heap—it’s kind of adorable till you hit it with that bag of rotten potatoes, and then it becomes the living avatar of stinky vengeance.

 

Morning arrived like a lama riding a llama in alarm—as it so often does when you’re on the lam…*

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*with apologies to Ogden Nash

 

 

Morning arrived like falling into a tank of vegan piranhas— AHHHHHHHHH! Oh. Whew! Hey, that tickles, cut it the hell out! What do you mean Mort is thinking of falling off the wagon? AHHHHHHHH!

 

Morning arrived like a banshee with tonsillitis—SCREEoooow! Fuck! Ow. I sound like Beetlejuice’s sexier sister. Fuck this. Y’all get to live another day, while I go gargle saltwater and chase it with whiskey even smokier than my voice.

 

Morning arrived like a carnivorous throw rug from the sixties—the colors clash, everything is loud, and it’s probably already chewing on your feet.

 

Morning arrived like ten wombats driving a Porsche—three for the pedals, two for the shifter, two for the steering wheel, and three to lean out the windows and scream: “we’re all gonna die!” in the cutest possible way.

 

Morning arrived like the unlikely offspring of a marriage between a raccoon and a kangaroo—it’s belligerent, it’s there to riffle your trash cans, and it’ll kick the shit out of you for the fun of it. Also, it’s adorable.

 

Morning arrived like a discount phoenix—it doesn’t rise from the ashes in flames so much as it staggers out of the fireplace covered in soot and stinking of cheap cigars and cheaper whiskey.

 

Morning arrived like a mil-spec platypus—which is basically a grizzly bear in flippers and a duck mask and not the thing you want to find making you pancakes for breakfast in bed because, well, it’s clearly just fattening you up so you’ll fit into that salmon suit.

 

Morning arrived like a flock of airdropped turkeys—see also: …

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THUD

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As God as my witness, I thought turkeys could fly.

 

#WKRP

 

Morning arrived like an enormous beaver cosplaying Scarlet O’Hara—Frankly, my dear, I don’t give a dam.

 

Morning arrived like a wallaby in a jump jet—no not that kind. Boing! Whooosh! Argh! Boing! Whoooosh! *machine gun noises* *screams* “Krikey, damned civilians!” Boing! Whoosh!

 

Morning arrived like a tempest in a teapot—sure, it doesn’t sound like much, but then you try to pour a cuppa, and lightning strikes the bridge of your glasses and a sudden crossdraft blows the cat off the table.

 

Morning arrived like a ten gallon milkshake in a five gallon pail—aiieee! No, dammit! Stop! It’s going everywhere! Fucking cows!

 

Morning arrived like a mandatory software update…for your brain—there’s no way to avoid it and now you can’t remember what you were going to………dammit!

 

Morning arrived like a bag of flaming shit wrapped in a trash fire roasted over a mountain of flaming tires, the burning turducken of awful—or as we call it here in 2018 America, “Monday.”

 

Morning arrived like a koala with a bad dye-job—oh, honey that shade of red does nothing for you. On the upside, congrats on getting invited to all those congressional parties, but do watch where you point that overcompensatingly phallic toy they gave you.

 

Morning arrived like the dawning realization that you shouldn’t be driving that bulldozer…down a residential street…in…Kansas? How did I…nevermind, step one: figure out how to raise the blade. Step two: get the cops to turn off those damn sirens.

 

Morning arrived like that time you woke up on the fish ladder…outside Seattle…during spawning season…didn’t it? There’s no harm in admitting it. Who among us can say the same hasn’t happened to…really? Just me? Huh… Nevermind.

 

Morning arrived like a pack of theropods in therapy—grrrr, grrrrow, hooot! Hoooot? Hooot. Hooot. Good session, guys, I think we made a lot of progress toda…stop chewing my leg, Bob.

 

Morning arrived like a wombat in a wind tunnel—yep, still flies like a brick…an adorable fluffy brick.

 

Morning arrived like a SPAM sphinx—a sculpture in cutlets rotting in the desert sun. The skunk of simulated meat colossi.

 

Morning arrived like a weregoldfish—it’s here to kill y…wait, is that the other side of my tank? I was going to…wait, is that the other side of tank? I…wait, how many…wait, am I swimming in circ…wait…

 

Morning arrived like a bucket full of temptation: it looks great until it’s spattered all over everything and you’re calling in that I-need-help-disposing-of-body favor.

 

Morning arrived like a fallen angel—flat, on fire, deeply bedraggled and it can’t get back up.

 

Morning arrived like a full sized gummi Godzilla— stretchy, yummy, and OH MY GHODS AND MONSTERS IT’S TIPPING O— *squish*.

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Sure, it’s fun until someone is crushed by 11,000,000 pounds of confectionery. Then, it’s funny.

 

Morning arrived like a robotic knee replacement…from a murderbot! Red knee in the morning, neighbors take warning. Nothing like having your knee go on a beheading spree at first light to start your day off with a bang and end it with a splash…

 

Morning arrived like a kettle of poorly made instant mashed potatoes—bland, boneless, uninspiring, and all too likely to be featured as a monster on late season Doctor Who (once the budget runs out).

 

Morning arrived like an ent in an Armani suit with a Cordovan leather briefcase—if you thought human lawyers were long winded you are in for the longest day’s journey into night.

 

Morning arrived like a recently deceased skunk—you know that no matter how much it stinks right now, it’s only going to get worse as you get to know it better.

 

Morning arrived like a magnitude 6.8 bed quake—which is a terrible sleep number…

 

Morning arrived like a walrus in a track suit—it’s going for a run no matter what you…wait, what do you mean I have no knees? That’s ridic………ah shit. *tusk plant*

 

Morning arrived like the Ark of Convent—if you look when it opens you get a ruler across the knuckles.

 

Morning arrived like a ragweed/cotton hybrid—why does my head feel so…wait the sheets are covered in pollen! ACHOOOOOO!

 

Morning arrived like a pack of rabid dingoes in ball gowns—it’s here to tear you to bloody shreds, but it’s going look absolutely fabulous as a dozen pairs of pearly whites sink into your sleeping body.

 

Morning arrived like a box of rocks—sadly, it was then elected to high public office.

 

Morning arrived like an animatronic moose in a spam processing plant—grzzzzam, ping, spoing! That’s funny, the grinder usually makes…meatier sounds. Oh well, it all tastes the same in the end.

 

Morning arrived like a vague sense that you’ve forgotten something—a sense that culminates hours later when you return from your presentation and discover your pants lying on the foot of the bed. #fuck

 

Morning arrived like five blindfolded men describing great Cthulhu—it’s like a squid…no it’s like a tree…more like a giant bat…no, like a really big hand…………Dave? Dave? Where’s Da–aieeeeeeeee!

 

Morning arrived like a drunken yak crashing a wallaby tea party—OMG, it’s a walking…scratch that, a _charging_ beard, with horns! Not the good china! Wait, it’s turning around…hop! Hop for your lives!

 

Morning arrived like a walrus and a panda walking into a bar—you’re expecting a bad joke, but what you actually get is flipper-slapped and shived with a bamboo shank. And that’s when the koala arrives. Every damn time.

 

Morning arrived like a raccoon coming for dinner—super happy to be there, you know it’s going to end in tears and a raccoon swimming in your punch bowl while it tries to eat the dog.

 

Morning arrived like a t-shirt cannon loaded with chinchillas—poooof, squeeeee, THUD. Sqowww.

 

Morning arrived like a step dancing armadillo on the AM Amtrack—which is to say, late, lost, and lacking in finesse, but still pretty damned impressive when normed for dancing armadillos.

 

Morning arrived like a fledermaus—doomed forever to chase a mosquito around the Cape of Horn…wait, what? That doesn’t make any sense, why would a flying Dutchman be after a mosquito?

 

Morning arrived like cyborg kangroo in a subway tunnel—SPROING! BAM! ZORCH! OW! SPROING! BAM! ZORCH! OW! SPROING! BAM! ZORCH! etc.

 

Morning arrived like the Dread Parrot Roberts…

Awk, Roberts wants a cracker!

As you wish.

Awk, pretty bird, pretty bird, good cracker, I’ll most likely kill you in the morning, awk!

 

Morning arrived like a metric fuckton of confectioner’s sugar delivered via Amazon drone—THAT’S NOT WHAT I ORDERED DAMMIT STOP WITH THE SUGAR!!!! Fucking predictive AI

 

Morning arrived like the Mice/Men strategic forces deployment plan—dis path over her look good. Huh, why all dese lost cows out here in dis isolated field?

 

Morning arrived like a wedge of chimera cheese—looks like feta, bites like a lion, burns like dragon fire going down, and the back end note is poisonous.

 

Morning arrived like a bowl of jellyfish gelato—mmm, this is interesting…um…ow. Ow. OW! OWOWOWOWimoweh, awimoweh…hush, my darling, don’t fear, my darling, the jellyfish freezes tonight!

 

Morning arrived like a moose in a miniskirt—unexpected, hairy, and mean, but it’s got the legs for it.

 

Morning arrived like the true butterfly of chaos—she flaps her wings in Brazil and a rain of search warrants falls out of Stormy skies in NYC.

 

Morning arrived like a boulder rolling up a hill away from you—it might be a delightful novelty now, but, inevitably, you know gravity is going come along and ruin everything for you.

 

Morning arrived like a spring-loaded compost heap—let me dispose of this bag of moldy broccoli in an environmentally responsible way that I may feel morally virtuous. *dump* SPROING ………morally virtuous fuuuuck.

 

Morning arrived like an eagle with lead feathers.

*saunters to the edge of the aerie*

*looks terminally noble*

*spreads wings*

*leaps*

Shit.

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THUD

 

Morning arrived like a deer in the headlights—Ooh, spotlights, is this my solo number? Cue the music and…I can’t get no, satisfa—CRUNCH. shit

 

Morning arrived like a flock of marshmallow peeps stumbling into the lair of wild s’mores—crunches, screams, the smell of burning sugar… We’re melting, we’re melting!

 

Morning arrived like a swarm of zombie ducklings—they can’t fly and they can’t climb which means the only way they get your brains is by nibbling you to death from the bottom up. Also, they’re disturbingly cute.

 

Morning arrived like a badger in the bird feeder—you don’t know how it got there, the birds are definitely not in a singing mood, and if you don’t want to get savaged, the only rational response is to go back to sleep and let it fix its own damn problem.

 

Morning arrived like a swarm of toilet piranhas—the scourge of the sewers, scours and devours, also does showers.

 

Morning arrived like a giant orange rolling inescapably towards you from the east. SQUISH Some days you’re the juicer, some days you’re the juicee.  #bloodorange

 

Morning arrived like a bucket of yesterday’s green beer—flat, foul, and charmingly tinted like nothing you would ever want to put in your face.

 

Morning arrived like a llama in a leprechaun suit—sure it looks quirky and cute, but you know damn well it’s just waiting to spit in someone’s face.

 

Morning arrived like the Bunny of Unfortunate Consequences being dropped into your pants from a great height—“I’ll get you for this Eagle of Narrative Coincidence! Aaaah! That looks soft… What the… Why’d it get dark? Eek! POWER HOP” *sound of pants tearing* Annnd, cut!

 

Morning arrived like an affectionate but unexpected malamute—super lovey and adorable, but waking to enthusiastic licking can be quite alarming when you don’t have a dog.

 

Morning arrived like a smoked boar. No, not a ham. No, not dead. Just smoked and boy is he pissed—Sooooeeeeeeeearrrrrgh! *trampling noises*

 

Morning arrived like a jaguar in hamster factory—everything is joy and bloody fluff until one too many hamsters have been devoured. Then………BLAM! Jaguar rains over all.

 

Morning arrived like a strained metaphor—or possibly it was grated… Hard to tell for sure. All you could really say about this particular morning was that it arrived in tiny somewhat soggy pieces with no hope of reassembly into something coherent or meaningful.

 

Morning arrived like the nine chinchillas of the apocalypse—War, Death, Flopsy, Popsy, Frizzle, Frazzle, Floof, Famine, and Meg. And, if you think that’s silly, wait till you see them on their mighty armadillo steeds…

 

Morning arrived like opening the door to the closet where you put all the stuff you wanted to forget—turns out everyone else did too. Expedition to the closet that time forgot! Hey is that my unresolved need for attention? Lawn darts! Aiee, junkalanche! *sudden silence*

 

Morning arrived like a woodpecker with a hangover—BAM! OW! Bam! Ow! Bam. Ow. bam. ow. ARGH! Goddammit! BAMBAMBAMBAM! OWOWOWOW! Fuck this. *starts to fly away* Ow! Stupid loud flapping! Ow!

 

Morning arrived like a woodpecker with a hangover—BAM! OW! Bam! Ow! Bam. Ow. bam. ow. ARGH! Goddammit! BAMBAMBAMBAM! OWOWOWOW! Fuck this. *starts fly away* Ow! Stupid loud flapping! Ow!

 

Morning arrived like a liquid nitrogen cocktail—over the lips an pas uh guhs, loo *face freezes solid* #hereendeththemorning

 

Morning arrived like a panda with a weed whip—it might look adorable at first glance, but that’s before it tries to trim your bikini line.

 

Morning arrived like a Cistercian Monk in your kitchen—a black and white vision of silent judgement, his withering gaze fixed upon your tattered Deadpool PJs. Sooooo much scorn. There is only one possible answer: the world’s most passive aggressive fart.

 

Morning arrived like a hot tub full of oatmeal—it starts out all soothing and warm and pleasantly squishy between your toes, but eventually it sets up, and then you realize that you’ve been devoured by your own breakfast and trapped forever.

 

Morning arrived like a raccoon at a tennis match—hey, what are you? That’s my tail! What the hell! Put me down! The word is racquet. Racquet!

 

Morning arrived like pogoing in a penguin mosh pit—unless you brought your tux to bed, you’re underdressed, terrified you’re going to crush someone, and everything smells vaguely of herring.

 

Morning arrived like the wildebeest dreams of avarice—as it so often does.

 

Morning arrived like a marmalade Matterhorn—looks amazing, smells spiffy, but if try to climb it you’ll end sticky and disappointed.

 

Morning arrived like a narcissist in a hall of fun house mirrors—broken weeping, broken glass, and blood everywhere.

 

Morning arrived like an enormous orbital fire ant experiment exposed to Marvel style cosmic rays—enter the Fantastic Four Million. Also, AIEEEEE! super powered fire ants!

 

Morning arrived like the first few stones of an avalanche—a little zingy, a little stingy, and a serious message to get the fuck out of the way.

 

Morning arrived like a rat trapped in a shrinking box with only twitter as an outlet—the longer it goes on the louder the squeaking and the less sense it makes.

 

Morning arrived a wildebeest in a waistcoat—dapper, dashing, and ready to dance on your grave if you aren’t incredibly careful not to offend.

 

Morning arrived like a bear in a CEO’s suit—it’s powerful, it’s conscienceless, it will devour you given half a chance…oh and it’s also a bear.  #dontarmbears

 

Morning arrived like a tidal wave of marshmallow fluff—a sticky, suffocating, wave of sugary white death.

 

Morning arrived like a snack cake avalanche—one Twinkie is a travesty a hundred thousand rolling over you like squishy golden death is a tragedy. But, in the end, calculating the angle of the Twinkie pile that crushed you is trigonometry.

 

Morning arrived like a rapid orbital cream pie delivery system—what’s that up in the sky? It’s not a bird, it’s not a plane…wait, it can’t be a cream p-!!!SPLAT!!! *wipes face, tastes* mmm, that’s not half b-!!!SPLAT!!! Come on not-!!!SPLAT!!! !!!SPLATSPLATATATAT

 

Morning arrived like an affectionate novacained basset who hasn’t seen you for a year—so much enthusiasm…and slobber. Soooooo much slobber.

 

Morning arrived like the inevitable thread of repetition that runs through daily life—the damned groundhog bit me again.

 

Morning arrived like a raccoon at a panda convention—trashing the party? So close yet so far.

 

Morning arrived like a taffy apple in the toaster—on fire, sticky as hell, and you have no idea how it got there or how to get rid of it.

 

Morning arrived like an artisanal cheese wheel delivered by trebuchet—death from above, delicious delicious death from above.

 

Morning arrived like a flamingo on a Harley—out of place, out of the comfort zone, and out of luck at reaching the handlebars. Basically, a pink disaster waiting to happen.

 

Morning arrived like a lamprey in your oatmeal—Mmm, this is a great breakfaaaaaaaaaaaaaa! How the hell did that…it’s got my face, aaaaaaaaaah!

 

Morning arrived like a wolverine in wombats clothing—like the wolf and sheep thing only both much meaner and much cuter.

 

Morning arrived like a giant intelligent fungal colony pretending to be a saber-toothed tiger in wedding dress—so close to a clever plan to infiltrate modern society, and yet not quite there.

 

Morning arrived like a rain of eels—which is fine. Big slithery, slimy eels falling from the sky in their thousands is just fine.

 

Morning arrived like last week’s milkshake—it was delicious once, but now it’s just slightly fuzzy, and chunky for all the wrong reasons.

 

Morning arrived like a tiny submarine in your hot tub— which is kind of adorable until you hear them shout: ahoy, ’tis the great white ape! and they break out the harpoon canon. L’il fuckers.

 

Morning arrived like a base drum full of sleepy bees—BOOM…BOOM…BZZZZ…oh hell, not this again. BZZZZZ! Aiee! Shit! Ow-ow-OW! Dammit! BZZZZZ! Aaaaaaaaaaah!

 

Morning arrived like a covey of hedgehogs in the ball pit—sounds cute enough right up until you get up close and personal.

 

Morning arrived like a mouse with a big old rack of antlers—majestic as all get out, but completely incapable of getting anywhere because of one critical vowel.  #almostmoose

 

Morning arrived like a big plate of snow waffles—brain freeze is a terrible way to start the day and all the nutrients and calories are in the syrup anyway.

 

Morning arrived like a roller skater in a buffalo herd—which is to say, briefly unpopular and then quite quite flat.

 

Morning arrived like a woodpecker on a cast iron tree—tap, tap, BWONG! Enthusiasm is great and all, but in the end the gong tolls for thee.

 

Morning arrived like 144 centipedes in a human costume —we think it might be running for Senate…and there’s the Fox News endorsement.

 

Morning arrived like the quiet rumble that announces that the new fallen snow in your roof is about to move to your head—and the world vanishes in a white puff as gentle as a dropped brick.

 

Morning arrived like a rain of herring…in Minnesota…in January—see also: someone is pelting you with high velocity frozen fish and you really want it to stop, and please don’t let it melt before the plows clear it away!

 

Morning arrived like a vampire with a vasovagal response to the sight of blood—see also: slow and extremely embarrassing starvation.

 

Morning arrived like the 2am realization that your book just came out halfway around the world and you have almost no internet time or connection to promote it with and…

 

thud*

 

*the author was just reminded that breathing is actually important.

 

 

Morning arrived like the four monkeys of the apocalypse—speak no evil, see no evil, hear no evil, and, evil, who can get away with murder because his brothers don’t notice or tell on him.

 

Morning arrived like orks in your oatmeal—not delicious, not nutritious, and tastes nothing like chicken. BLEAH!

 

Morning arrived like a raccoon in a zoot suit—it may look adorable, but it’s not even a little bit happy, and when it inevitably steps on its cuffs and face plants, you know you’re going to get bitten.

 

Morning arrived like a tempest in a teapot—which sounds funny right up until a rogue wave comes shooting out of the spout and soaks the marmalade and ruins the crumpets!

 

Morning arrived like the deeply alarming realization you have a book out in a couple days and you can’t even calculate when due to international dateline travel weirdness and travel whiplash—see also: AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!

 

 

Morning arrived like a gang of pack rats moving your stuff around when you’re not looking—argh, what happened to my keys? Where are my glasses? Who moved my pants?!

 

Morning arrived like the Solstice sheep—arranged upon a slope, their curly fleeces catching the sun and redirecting it to focus on the chosen one known only as Summer’s Mutton.

 

Morning arrived like a flock of lung chickens—which are even less adorable than they sound. So many tiny feathers and pointy toes…

 

Morning arrived like the international dateline–or getting out of 2017 as fast as possible, which is pretty good actually.

 

Morning arrived like a kiwi in a tiny tyrannosaurus suit—major predatory ambition by floofy adorability.

 

Morning arrived like a swarm of tent caterpillars taking up residence in your sinuses—it’s super cozy in there and…achooooo! OMFSM! So much fluff!

 

Morning arrived like a wombat in cargo shorts—pockets on the inside, pockets on the outside, and still losing its keys.

 

Morning arrived like an octopus juggling rusty machetes over your bed—you know it’s going to end either with you en-brochette or calamari.

 

Morning arrived like a 1 to 1 scale gingerbread locomotive—it may be delicious but it’ll still crush you between the gum drop wheels and those cute candy cane rails if you can’t get free of your red vine bindings.

 

Morning arrived like a spoiler for a movie you didn’t want to see—you shouldn’t care about it, but somehow you’re still disappointed.

 

Morning arrived like the chariots of the gods—a pretty fiction at best, or, possibly, a nightmarish death machine with blades on its wheels driven by immortals with no real human feeling.

 

Morning arrived like the gentle purring of a saber tooth tiger under your bed—so soothing, so sweet, so…wait there’s a saber tooth tiger where?!

 

Morning arrived like a kaiju capybara—captivated by its gargantuan cuteness you forget to run away before it crushes you under it enormous, adorable webbed feetses.

 

Morning arrived like a penguin in white tie and tails—redundant, overdressed, uncomfortable, and smelling faintly of herring guts.

 

Morning arrived like a discussion of Ayn Rand’s contributions to philosophy and literature—kill me, kill me now…better yet, kill me 15 months ago so I can miss the road to this horrific point in time.

 

Morning arrived like the Spectre of Somewhat Concerning Events—I’m here to tell you that something bad might, and I stress the _might_, possibly be coming up in your near, or perhaps, far future. Why me? The Spectre of death is a bit cliche really, don’t you think?

 

Morning arrived like a walrus dancing a waltz—flipper, two three, flipper, flipper tusk…and dip!

 

Morning arrived like a giant floating eyeball—bloodshot, bleary, and bouncing like the world’s most disturbing beach ball.

 

Morning arrived like a camel in a steam room—he’s pretty happy, but you’re surrounded by the delightful aroma of steamed camel. Once smelled, never forgotten.  #nothinglikesteamedclams

 

Morning arrived like a million friendly dachshunds trying to lick you to death—they may be short, but once they lick through your hamstrings you’re going down! Well, not right away, because highly lubricated friction is a slow slow way to die, but they’ll get there.

 

Morning arrived like a kick in the ass from a jackalope—even the bruise is mythic, well and it has antlers. Which, as it turns out, are really hard to sit on.

 

Morning arrived like a coconut crab disguised as a footstool—it’s disconcerting when you try to put your feet up and it moves but not half as much as when it tries to crack your skull to get at the goodies inside.

 

Morning arrived like Ymir* sneezing—frozen snot and sadness everywhere.

 

*First and greatest of all frost giants.

 

Morning arrived like a billion dark chocolate chips sliding down the side of a mountain—never had oncoming death looked so delicious or chocolaty.

 

Morning arrived like a velociraptor princess—she’s delicate, she’s dainty, she’s here to eat your head.

 

Morning arrived like 51 face-eating-leopards doing what face-eating leopards do—like, you know, voting to eat more faces…

 

Morning arrived like a rabid weasel copping a plea—or, you know, the day before xmas…

 

Morning arrived like a thundering herd of giant animate sand burrs—and you thought the regular kind were bad enough… It’s points and barbs all way down and you might as well just give up on that swimsuit now.

 

Morning arrived like Cthulhu’s great aunt Bessthulhu—those aren’t tentacles, they’re the result of weaponized cheek pinches. But it’s still better than uncle Bobthulhu talking politics.

 

Morning arrived like a million clown noses…creeping silently toward your bed. They gather and wait till there are enough and then they bury you alive! Nosarlathotep has arrived as foretold in the Nosanomicon bringing on the Bozopocalypse!

 

Morning arrived like a very dapper lightning bolt in an Armani suit—it looks oh so fancy and brilliant but the net effect is still like sticking your tongue in a light socket and flipping the on switch. See also: ZORCH!!!

 

Morning arrived like a fluttering armada of umpire bats—improper use of pillow, return to second base where you will be retroactively fined two hours sleep, penalty to be taken in blood in the traditional manner as laid out in Transylvania rules.

 

Morning arrived like a banshee with laryngitis—it’s fine now, but you know it’ll all go to screams and doom at some point.

 

Morning arrived like autocorrect—bliph the snivvlegarfs no trivet the consanguineous nty!  #bonusround

 

Morning arrived like a beached elephant—sure it could get up anytime it wants too, buts it’s going to just lie there and digest for a week.

 

Morning arrived like a turkey in urban camo armed with a sniper rifle and a thirst for revenge—stuff this thumb-monkeys! You have mine for dinner, I’m gonna have yours for breakfast, and don’t spare the giblets!  #thanksdying #turkeyterminator

 

Morning arrived like a shopping cart full of angry gerbils—so cute and fluffy and…they’re getting out…teeth so sharp…land-piranhas, adorable land-piranhas! Aieeeeeee!

 

Morning arrived like a rhinoceros raised by hamsters—it sounds cute right up until it tries to crawl up your pants leg.

 

Morning arrived like Cthulhu in dancing capybara patterned flannel pajamas—it might be covered in unspeakably cute sleepwear but it’s still the end of the world as we know it.

 

Morning arrived like an aardvark mistaking your uvula for an ant queen…and deciding to go in through your sinuses—sooo much tongue!

 

Morning arrived like a punk rock yak—it sounds a lot cooler than it looks. A whole body mohawk is kinds dorky, actually, and requires insane amounts of Elmer’s to maintain, but you should see it mosh.

 

Morning arrived like a walrus at the orthodontist—well sure we can fix your overbite, but it’ll be hella expensive and in the end you’ll just end up looking like an ugly sea lion.

 

Morning arrived like an asthmatic Siberian tiger—I’m going to *wheeze* eat you, *wheeze* just as soon as I…oh, fuck it *wheeze* you’re free to go about your *wheeze*.

 

Morning arrived like a panda pundit polemicist—50 shades of nuance free black and white pandasplaining. Unfortunately, he’s a bear of very little brain.

 

Morning arrived like a giant 40 foot wheel of reprocessed cheese food rolling down a steep hill—cheesy doom tolls for thee and it’s wearing yellow dyes 5 and 6.

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Morning arrived like the bluebird of happiness meeting the redtailed hawk of sudden disappointment…

 

*happy whistling*

 

*high keening shriek*

 

*sudden puff of blue feathers*

 

*silence*

 

Morning arrived like a gentle white blanket of new fallen…wait is that moving? AIEEE, BILLIONS OF ALBINO ARMY ANTS!!!

 

Morning arrived like memories of sheep—baa, baa, baa, zzzz…or maybe not. More like memories of ravenous hamsters squeaking and biting and… Hell. *throws metaphors in metaphorical bucket and goes back to bed.

 

Morning arrived like a bathtub full of angry ferrets. Aiee, I’m waist deep in pissed off giant weasels—admittedly, super cute giant weasels, but still, aieee!

 

Morning arrived like a tsunami in your coffee pot—a dark wave rising over a far green table cloth, then SPLASH all hope for caffeine and wakefulness washed away in a terrible instant.

 

Morning arrived like a goat in an F18—it’ll probably be fine, but if it ever gets off the ground goatfire will rain down on us all.

 

Morning arrived like a centipede dropping its dance shoes—one after another after another…you know, I think it’s playing taps.

 

Morning arrived like a 2,000000lb animate block of SPAM—more or less the BORG only meatier, and once you’re assimilated…sushi.

 

Morning arrived like the steamroller backing over you…for the second time…they’re not very fast but man do they make their point.

 

Morning arrived like washing instructions for a fancy dress—turn inside out, spin 3 times widdershins, dry on oak under full moon…

 

Morning arrived like a weasel in your Wheaties—looks like a prize, bites like…well, a weasel, actually.

 

Morning arrived like 12 badgers in a bag—you know, like a typical staff meeting.

 

Morning arrived like a mongoose in mukluks—yet another perfect killing machine tripped up by fashion faux paws.  #notatypo #apunne

 

Morning arrived like a sea monkey in wizard’s robes—it might look spelltacular, but it’s still just a brine shrimp.

 

Morning arrived like a raccoon passing through a jet engine—aaaaah! WHOOMP. Skiiiiish. Kablooie! Now _that’s_ what I call lag.

 

Morning arrived like…what continent is my walrus waltzing on—wait, this is NOT my beautiful walrus. How did I get here?

 

Morning arrived like the woodchuck of unconditional enthusiasm—which sounds great until it won’t stop applauding your flossing job.

 

Morning arrived like an ostrich Ostrogoth—too bad, you’re Rome and it’s here to kick you to death.

 

Morning arrived like a velociraptor in a tennis dress—it’s got speed, power, and style, but it still can’t hold a racket.

 

Morning arrived like night falling halfway around the world—which is to say jet-lagged, footsore, and the opposite of fancy free.

 

Morning arrived like a tidal wave of guinea pigs—the cute, the fluff, the horrible squeals coming from under your surf board…

 

Morning arrived like a sloth in a track suit and expensive sneakers— it’s either false advertising or false optimism.

 

Morning arrived like a camel middle manager—it spits, it bites, and it wants to know if you’ve got the TPS reports done.

 

Morning arrived like hippopotamus masseuse—yeah that’s the spoARGH! *splat*

 

Morning arrived like a bison in a ball gown—no matter how elegant it looks, it’s still there to trample you.

 

Morning arrived like a bobcat in a baby bonnet—it’s going to make someone pay for putting it there. And by “pay” it means “bleed”.

 

Morning arrived like a rhino in a hang glider—optimism triumphs over everything………except gravity. Alas. Also, splat.

 

Morning arrived like the 4 wombats of the apocalypse—pudgy, poofy, Stan, and roly-poly.

 

Morning arrived like a tyrannosaurus rex in really big running shoes—extinction it’s what’s having you for breakfast!

 

Morning arrived like a murderbot in a nice suit—super polite about mission to kill us all, plans on running for Congress. Shoe-in!

 

Morning arrived like a boss—the kind at the end of a video game that cheats while attacking you and changes into ever nastier forms.

 

Morning arrived like a raccoon in a china shop—infinitely more capable of harm than a bull. Clever and malicious always beats clumsy.

 

Morning arrived like a goose running a backhoe—you’d think it would naturally, but no thumbs. It’s angry and it’s winging it.

 

Morning arrived like a carpet of live badgers—sooo soft, sooo warm sooo, AUGH! IT’S CHEWING ON MY FEET!

 

Morning arrived like a gentle fall of lukewarm porridge from the sky—basically, warm sticky snow that moisturizes where it clings.

 

Morning arrived like a giant cascade of rotten oranges—one rotting orange ball of nastiness is unlikely to kill you, but together…

 

Morning arrived like an air-mail platypus—pissed off, fuzzy, poisonous, and obviously designed by a committee.

 

Morning arrived like a hippopotamus in an otter costume—it might be super adorable but it’s all a ploy to get close and stomp you.

 

Morning arrived like a 700 foot caterpillar from Mars, which would be fine if I hadn’t to worn my milkweed-patterned pajamas…AIEE!

 

Morning arrived like an angry chihuahua with a loudspeaker—yip-yip-yip, test-test-TEST, YIP-YIP-YIP! *sticks head under pillow.

 

Morning arrived like a relentless porcupine with a hankering to snuggle—sure it’s cute in its own way, but ow ow ow!

 

Morning arrived like a giraffe on a minibike—so elbow, many knee, watch out passers by!

 

Morning arrived like a tiger in the bedroom—orange, angry, dangerous and you wake up worried and wondering what it did this time.

 

Morning arrived like an ocelot on speed—an extreme ocelot oscillation occasion, as it were.

 

Morning arrived like a yeti in trench coat—huge, fuzzy, and you know it’s as uncomfortable as you are.

 

Morning arrived like a lion/scorpion hybrid that can’t get laid—as morning so often does.

 

Morning arrived like an aardvark with a plugged snout—achoooo! Holy snot cannons, Batman!

 

Morning arrived like an angry jackass braying at the moon—he ain’t a wolf, he’s a moron.

 

Morning arrived like a gang of jackals voting to eat the vulnerable and powerless—this might be a political metaphor. Maybe. A little

 

Morning arrived like an alligator in a track suit—turns out scaly angry death sprints like an Olympian.

 

Morning arrived like a barrel of pickled monkeys—which are much drunker and stinkier than the traditional kind.

 

Morning arrived like a raccoon in an Armani suit—clever, dapper, and wearing a thief’s mask, basically a personal injury lawyer.

 

Morning arrived like an iTunes update—every day in every way it gets worse and worse.  #alsobadsoftware

 

Morning arrived like a starfish putting on a 3 piece suit. “Which limb goes where?!?” it wailed. So much decision, too many button.

 

Morning arrived like a wombat on a Harley—it’s hard to badass when you’re adorable and can’t reach the throttle. *tips over* THUD

 

Morning arrived like a monkey trying to get a banana out of a gourd, which is to say; late because stuck.

 

Morning arrived like two jaguars trying to sleep on the same branch—hissing, spitting, clawing, and, eventually someone falls off.

 

Morning arrived like a moose in a zoot suit—it might look dapper, but it’s going to end in tatters and quite possibly a trampling.

 

Morning arrived like a flotilla of fire ants disguised as a plate of marzipan ducklings—mmm, these are…aieeee! Get them off me!

 

Morning arrived like an old friend who’s been dead a few years—at first everything seems great, but pretty soon it’s a horror movie

 

Morning arrived like a centipede in tap shoes—Putting On The Ritz played by hail on a hot tin roof.

 

Morning arrived like a musk ox Swan Lake—the delicate thunking of hooves en pointe, a swish of tutus, stage planks splintering…

 

Morning arrived like sundown—either that or I’m standing on my head…

 

Morning arrived like the steamroller of inexorable deadlines—it rolls slowly, but, inevitably, it rolls over you.

 

Morning arrived like a sledgehammer wrapped in velvet—so soft, so elegant, so…WHAM! Fuck, it’s still morning.

 

Morning arrived like a comedy farewell to Carrie Fisher by SNL and the producers of the Star Wars Christmas Special—Just. Like. That.

 

Morning arrived like a bucket of crickets in tiny tuxedos—dapper, elegant, and evil little bastards who hate sleep.

 

Morning arrived like an alligator in the bathtub—it might be the best place for it, but you’d still rather it wasn’t in your house.

 

Morning arrived like a xylonym—we named him Oak for his skull and his flexibility.

 

Morning arrived like a camel on a mission from god–we’re getting the caravan back together. #bluescamels

 

Morning arrived like a giant squid in the Dean’s office—or, as academics like to call it: back-to-school season.

 

Morning arrived like a capybara in leather—it thinks it’s bad, but it’s really just a giant guinea pig role-playing the Fonz.

 

Morning arrived like a belated lemming—…

…

…

…

…

…

*running noises*

*more running*

aiee!

*plop*

Dammit, missed again!

 

Morning arrived like a weasel in your vacuum cleaner—eventually you’ll have to let it out. So angry…and fluffy. But mostly, angry.

 

Morning arrived like a sea otter trying to crack an iron oyster—bam, bam, bam, goddammit! Bam, Bam, Bam, Argh! *pitch* SPLASH

 

Morning arrived like a penguin on a bicycle—can’t pedal, can’t steer, and it’s only a matter of time before the crash.

 

Morning arrived like the polar bear of miscommunicated scheduling—I was supposed to be where? When? Aiee! Then it eats you.

 

Morning arrived like a ninja anaconda—you don’t know it’s there until it crushes and devours you.

 

Morning arrived like a tray of fine china at an orangutan’s bachelor party—delicate, distinguished, doomed.

 

Morning arrived like a million lab rats trying to run the same maze all at once—the squeals , the teeth, the claws, the smell…

 

Morning arrived like a walrus on a Clamato cleanse—bad judgment, bad attitude, bad noir.

 

Morning arrived like a pelican with the mumps—or, no, it just tried to eat a walrus. Never mind.

 

Morning arrived like a woodpecker with a rubber beak—bwoioioing! Wubwubwub! Dammit!

 

Morning arrived like a lemming deluge—no umbrella can withstand fur bombs dropped from a great height, aka fuzzy death from above.

 

Morning arrived like a harpy in haute couture—no matter how you dress it up it’s still there to swear and throw shit at you.

 

Morning arrived like a life insurance salesman at a funeral—unwelcome, unwanted, and undeterred by social mores.

 

Morning arrived like a hot tub stocked with Australian sea lice—hey, is this tub full of tomato soup or is that just me?

 

Morning arrived like a gorgon’s wink—Best avoided unless you want to get stoned and spend your remaining years in the slow lane

 

Morning arrived like a rug infested with redcaps—an ongoing sense of existential dread and despair punctuated by terror. i.e. Monday

 

Morning arrived like a mosaic made of live mice—some assembly required…again and again and again.

 

Morning arrived like an army of mules intent on their own agendas—angry, ineffective, disorganized, and damn proud of it.

 

Morning arrived like a koala masseuse—long of claw, fuzzy, funky, and stoned out of its gourd on eucalyptus.

 

Morning arrived like a coconut in the wrong time zone—i.e. no different from a coconut in the right zone Coconuts suck at morning

 

Morning arrived like a weasel in your waffles—the breakfast that bites back.

 

Morning arrived like a manatee in a Morris Mini—too much mammal in too little space, a metaphor for overpopulation?

 

Morning arrived like a caribou in clogs—clunking, clacking, clattering, and careening toward catastrophe.

 

Morning arrived like the woodchuck of alarming realization—how many anxieties would a anxietychuck chuck if an anxietychuck…aieee!

 

Morning arrived like the fabulous snot volcanoes of Planet Phlegm—burble, bubble, blotch… run for your lives it’s going to blow!

 

Morning arrived like a couple of coach loads of Spanish tourists—so armada, much pictures, so excite, distinct lack of sinking.

 

Morning arrived like the wildebeest of unfortunate breakfast choices—swimming a river of fat and right over historic reflux falls.

 

Morning arrived like a family of sinus beavers—felling nose hairs, building snot dams, slapping their horrid little tails.

 

Morning arrived like a marmoset in your marmalade—citrus monkey, sticky fur, sad toast

 

Morning arrived like a rubber squeaky duck on a slate roof—honk…skid…hooonk…bump…Honk…bumpbumpbump…HONK!………thud…sigh…honk.

 

Morning arrived like a walrus in a weight room—so much core, but alas no thumbs.

 

Morning arrived like a boa constrictor in a bustier—cleavage at the cost of breakfast, constricted and conflicted.

 

Morning arrived like a troll under the breakfast table—you didn’t need those toes for anything important, right?

 

Morning arrived like a rainfall of cold porridge—splork splirk splooog, ick!

 

Morning arrived like a dirigible crewed by talking porcupines—you knows it’s going to end catastrophically and with much swearing.

 

Morning arrived like a triple decker ice cream cone on a -40° day—hard as a rock and ready to freeze your face off.

 

Morning arrived like a badger in your lunch box—Pop! Goes the weas…the really big weas–augh! Get it off my face!

 

Morning arrived like a hippopotamus in a rain jacket—sogtastic and ready to gleefully stomp you to death.

 

Morning arrived like a gazelle in six inch heels—totter, totter, stumble, stot…thunk! Dammit! Stuck…forever. Bother.

 

Morning arrived like an ambulatory waffle iron—not only does it sneak up on you it leaves a hell of a mark.

 

Morning arrived like a frumious bandermuffin—only slightly less dangerous than a bandersnatch but morning themed and not bad eating.

 

Morning arrived like a text message reminding you you’re having breakfast in London—kippers, shudder. Also, maybe you should pack…

 

Morning arrived like a giant centipede in the bottom of the sriracha—mmm, spicaieeeeee! And your whole meal gets recontextualized.

 

Morning arrived like a golden chariot with square wheels—it might be bright and shining but it isn’t going anywhere.

 

Morning arrived like an avalanche of chinchillas—each individual thing is not so bad, but in the end you’re buried in heat and fluff #badnoiir

 

Morning arrived like 44% of a raccoon—the other 56% is komodo dragon. Morning is very confused. Also belligerent. And masked.

 

Morning arrived like a monken drunky. *Hic* Gimme banannnn, bana, banananana…peely fruit! Oh, and turn off that big yellow light!

 

Morning arrived like a walrus at the orthodontist’s office—big, belligerent, and you simply can’t brace for that.

 

Morning arrived like a tractor trailer full of weaponized sea urchins—and not cute Victorian urchins either—flying spiky mecha-death!

 

Morning arrived like a waffle. Yep, a waffle. Flat, stomped on, and crispy around the edges. Also, goes soggy after an hour.

 

Morning arrived like a steamroller in a pig sty—think extra wide, extra squeally bacon.

 

Morning arrived like a slow dawning realization it _wasn’t_ a nightmare—the grits, the raccoons, all those pumice stones…the horror!

 

Morning arrived like a hippo in your hot tub—huge, hungry, angry, dangerous, and unwilling to share the spa.

 

Morning arrived like a llama dancing in your bathtub—it’ll dance if it wants to and leave its friends behind. So, go back to bed.

 

Morning arrived like a drunken penguin that dressed in the dark—late and wearing it’s tuxedo backward.

 

Morning arrived like a battle wobbegong in full chain and plate—so fierce, so dangerous, sooo heavy. Carpet shark sinks like a rock

 

Morning arrived like a stick insect at a sock hop—it’s got the moves and the motion, but it ends with a crunch and stained socks.

 

Morning arrived like a pancake made with concrete in the batter—it might look warm and delicious, but when you take a bite? OW!

 

Morning arrived like a spray insulation gun loaded with cotton candy—so pink, so sweet, so not what you actually wanted.

 

Morning arrived like a mole on your rib cage—no, the other kind. Those tunnels smart and the roller to smooth them out is zero fun.

 

Morning arrived like a manatee fresh out of med school—bedside manner for days, but you still might want a second opinion.

 

Morning arrived like a bagpiping boa constrictor—its fingering is for shit, but man can it squeeze an unholy noise out of that thing

 

Morning arrived like a camel on an ice floe—no one knows how it got there, and everyone knows it won’t end well.

 

Morning arrived disheveled and distraught, smelling of stale eucalyptus—like a hungover koala one might say.

 

Morning arrived like a panda delivering a telegram—when a day starts that black and white you know it’s going to be bad news.

 

Morning arrived like a rhinoceros in a tuxedo—fashionably elegant, yet there to trample you to death nonetheless.

 

Morning arrived like a bucket of scarab beetles—it’s super disturbing to start and it only gets worse when mummy wakes you up.

 

Morning arrived like an incontinent basset hound—droopy ears, dangly jowls, and drippy at both ends.

 

Morning arrived like the Camel of Calendar Conflict—it bites, it spits, it smells like camels do, and it makes you miss meetings!

 

Morning arrived like the Walrus of Conditional Acceptance—sure, I’d love to come to your day, but… *tusk sharpening noises*

 

Morning arrived like a marshmallow Godzilla—everything’s great until you breathe fire. Then you become a smore from the inside out.

 

Morning arrived like a marmoset at the thermostat—you hardly notice it’s there until the house goes subtropical.

 

Morning arrived like the weasel of passive aggressive administration—I notice you haven’t filled out your travel authorizations yet…

 

Morning arrived like the Legion of Monkey Typists going on strike—To be or ewiogow4irnvlabarealiubgreiubvarivba

 

Morning arrived like a battalion of goat commandos—throats slit, cans chewed, baaaaaad to the bones.

 

Morning arrived like a muskrat with a machete—soggy, smelly, irate, and armed to the teeth.

 

Morning arrived like a hungover kangaroo—hop, hop, hop, OMG, YAAAAK, hop, hop, stop the world going up and down.

 

Morning arrived like a picnic basket full of caffeinated voles—cute in theory, kind of mess when you open it up indoors.

 

Morning arrived like a bear in bathrobe—grumpy, disheveled, and willing to kill if you even _suggest_ shaving.

 

Morning arrived like a chinchilla blizzard on the day you wore your Velcro suit—cute, but the longer it lasts the heavier you feel

 

Morning arrived like a dragontree pollen bloom—wait, it’s trying to grow a WHAT in my sinuses?!?

 

Morning arrived like a hedgehog with mange—not an act you want to follow barefoot and fresh out of bed.

 

Morning arrived like covfefe—sounds like coffee, tastes like shitgbbon, and wakes you up like an ether soaked cravat.

 

Morning arrived like the vole of inexact metaphors—no idea what it means folks, we’re bad at mornings here at Camp Confused.

 

Morning arrived like a spork evangelist at a soup convention—enthusiasm has a place and time and this isn’t it.

 

Morning arrived like a bucket of crabs in brine—delicious perhaps, but zero fun when they scamper in under the covers with you.

 

Morning arrived like a gnu in canoe—pointy hooves and birch bark mix like caltrops and toeses.

 

Morning arrived like a racing ostrich in lead sneakers—so late that it’s very nearly morning all over again.

 

Morning arrived like the badger of benevolent disappointment—you’ll do better tomorrow, dear, but I have to chew your face today.

 

Morning arrived like a porcupine on a playground slide—it’s super cute but you don’t want to follow it down.

 

Morning arrived like a flying elephant—amazing, but at some point gravity is going to catch on and you don’t want to be underneath.

 

Morning arrived like a moose from Miami—happy to get out of the heat and on the run for stomping a retiree to death.

 

Morning arrived like sinus hamsters—adorable little devils, actually, but the sneezing and the stuff they track around…oh my.

 

Morning arrived like a flock of flying monkeys in hurricane—briefly terrifying but soon blown off into the distance.

 

Morning arrived like a shoe store dropped from a great height—look, a shoe dropping…another…and another…AIEEE! SHOE STORM!

 

Morning arrived like an LSD bagel—breakfast is…pardon me, can you remove your waffles from my rainbow?

 

Morning arrived like a cantaloupe full of spiders—it looks fine till you open it up then…AIEEEEEEEE, KILL IT WITH FIRE!

 

Morning arrived like a wombat in the breadbox—it’s cute and all, but it’s not going to get your toast made.

 

Morning arrived like after. …after what? If I knew that I probably wouldn’t need the talcum powder.

 

Morning arrived like a orangutan piloting a B2 bomber—you know it’s going to crash, question is when and how much damage it causes.

 

Morning arrived like a hive full of bees falling down a flight of stairs—it might take a bit but this one is REALLY going to sting.

 

Morning arrived like a lead monkey on your back—like a lead pipe to the head, but twice as heavy, and much harder to get rid of.

 

Morning arrived like a bucket of eels in the bathtub—doesn’t matter how awful you feel you’re not getting in.

 

Morning arrived like a rabid groundhog that types like a man—no healthy minded mammal could simultaneously be so stupid and so cruel.

 

Morning arrived like a muppet commando—you’ll smile as it makes a terrible pun and cuts your throat.

 

Morning arrived like a bargeload of Twinkies—a golden mountain rising in the east implacable, indestructible, and unpalatable.

 

Morning arrived like a flying armada of bumble bees blotting out the sun—that buzzing isn’t just in your head this time…

 

Morning arrived like a komodo dragon on a school bus—everyone has to freeze and hope it will leave without eating anyone.

 

Morning arrived like a vulture at the funeral parlor—not unexpected, but no one wants to see it there.

 

Morning arrived like waking up in a strange deer stand with a spiral-cut ham and a syringe of red jello. Regrets? No. Questions? Lots

 

Morning arrived like 100 monkeys at 100 typewriters—it doesn’t matter how good the story when the keys are jammed with monkey shit.

 

Morning arrived like groundhog day—over and over and over again.

 

Morning arrived like a chocolate cake with a piece of broken glass in it—no matter how tempting it looks, diving in will end poorly

 

Morning arrived like a orangutan on day seven of a bender—where am I, why am I covered in banana cream pie, and who shaved my head?

 

Morning arrived like a hedgehog hiding in a ham sandwich—om, nom, nom, aieeee! For both of you.

 

Morning arrived like a badger in the mulch pile—everything goes to hell the second you decide to load up the wheelbarrow.

 

Morning Arrived like a drunk falling off the wagon—ouch,

 

Morning arrived like a marmoset on a bender—you’re hoping for “harmless” but you get belligerent asshole with tiny hands.

Morning arrived like a polecat at a perfumery—unwanted, unwelcome, and unforgettable.

Morning arrived like a banshee with a sinus infection— somewhat less terrifying than normal, howl, bubble, sneeze, etc.

Morning arrived like a walrus in a wallaby suit—no matter how hard you work it you just don’t have the legs for it. To say nothing of the tusks

‪Morning arrived like a two lemming parade—short, fuzzy, and, if the rumors are true, it’s not going to end well.

Morning arrived like a sneeze in the middle of a summoning ritual—you don’t know what you’re going to get, but you know it won’t be what you wanted.

Morning arrived like dozens of tiny crickets ice skating on my scalp—so obviously bizarre and bad it needs no coda save only: Why?

Morning arrived like a camel with a combover—it stinks, it spits, it bites, and it’s probably on its way to a cabinet position.

Morning arrived like a yak that’s just discovered hair spray—fssssss…poooof…he-he-he! And it’s in your bedroom…

Morning arrived like a purrfect storm—not sure what happened to the dogs because it was only raining cats.

Morning arrived like a tiny war galley crewed by rats—cool till you realize it’s about to ram your rowboat. And, since you were rowing away, it’s rats sinking a leaving ship…

Morning arrived like a goat at a faculty dinner—took an hour for anyone to realize something was wrong.

Morning arrived like a tarantula in tap shoes—it might be a joyful noise, but you were trying to sleep, dammit!

Morning arrived like a cricket match—beloved by its adherents & incomprehensible to everyone else…pretty much like all sportsball events.

Morning arrived like a Cadillac full of jelly donuts—everything was fine till the sun came up & they started to boil—pop, pop, pop.

Morning arrived like…oh hell, it’s night again isn’t it? So, like night then…yeah, like darkness falling, that’s morningish, right?

Morning arrived like a side of fresh cooked bacon sliding over the edge of a cliff—sizzling sadness in the dawn light.

Morning arrived like an endlessly falling black velvet curtain—it’s not that heavy to start but eventually you can’t move for the weight.

Morning arrived like a bevy of worried ocelots—it sounds cute but basically they’re itty bitty leopards and you’re made of meat.

Morning arrived like a pirate’s breakfast—late and arrrrrrty me lads. Also swimming in fat and lacking a proper dose of vitamin C.

Morning arrived like a huge soggy white blanket dropped from the sky—oh wait, that’s not a simile, it’s just snow. Nevermind.

Morning arrived like a pack of hyenas in fancy suits—wakes you right the hell up when they start trying to repeal the enlightenment.

Morning arrived like the ghost at the feast—dead for quite some time but still managing to ruin an otherwise delightful meal.

Morning arrived like a blown deadline—creeping in quietly and embarrassedly in the dead of afternoon and hoping no one would notice…

Morning arrived like a monkey on your back—it’s hairy, it’s grumpy, it has a hell of a grip, now if you get it to scratch that spot…

Morning arrived like a startled armadillo at the top of a flight of stairs—Aiee! Oops… Thump. Oh shit. Thumpthumpumpump…thump…thud

Morning arrived like a llama parachutist—poofy, flooffy, spitting-mad death from above.

Morning arrived like a plague of voles—small, gray, and fluffy yet surprisingly vicious.

Morning arrived like a hot buttered shot put—you really want to get rid of it, but if you’re not careful it’ll land on your toes.

Morning arrived like an army of mice with icy feet and flags to plant—being claimed for the glorious mouse empire is a lousy way to wake up.

Morning arrived like a teddy bear with halitosis—it’s only a little bit disturbing until you start to wonder what it’s been eating…

Morning arrived like a rhinoceros clinging to the ceiling over your bed—you don’t know how it got there and you’re pretty sure it’s going to fall on you.

Morning arrived like a wombat with a sledgehammer—round, fuzzy, and your toes are likely to suffer for it.

Morning arrived like knight falling …off a horse—clank, clatter, thud…dammit. Can somebody help me up here?

Morning arrived like a kitten with very sharp claws climbing your leg forever—as morning always does.

Morning arrived like a crocodile in a tux—you know it’s there to kill you, but sooo dashing and that smile…

Morning arrived like a heron on roller skates—wheels racing, legs everywhere, and the only hope of avoiding a crash is flying away.

Morning arrived like a weasel in a three piece suit—no matter how good it looks, you know it’s going to ruin your day.

Morning arrived like a crate of powdered dehydrated bears—it sounds harmless enough until you spill your drink and get devoured.

Morning arrived like Muppet ballet—long-limbed and graceful, yet fuzzy and unspeakably bizarre with hidden hands and agendas.

Morning arrived like a bionic woodpecker working as a window inspector—looks great, let’s just… tap-tap-CRASH-dammit!

Morning arrived like an orangutan with a pipe wrench. Which option is scarier, if it doesn’t know what it’s doing or if it does?

Morning arrived like a troll with its fee-fees hurt—like with any other troll you’re best off ignoring it and going back to sleep.

Morning arrived like a porcupine in a pinafore—it might look fancy, but it’s full of holes and there’s no way it comes off in one piece.

Morning arrived like an emo emu—it would totally kick your ass if it could get up the will to live.

Morning arrived like a zebra in full kit kilt—it might be a fancy rig but it’s still stripes with plaids.

Morning arrived like a bucketful of eels—which is not at all a good thing to find in your bed first thing in the morning…or, ever.

Morning arrived like a brick wall dropped from a great height—You can’t figure how they got it up there. Also, OWWWW.

Morning arrived like someone asking for help moving two days after they bought a complete furniture package at the Heavy and Fragile store.

Morning arrived like an incipient avalanche—you know if you move suddenly or make any noise it’s going to fall on you.

Morning arrived like an overly contrived plot point—you can see why it happened, but a better writer would have made another choice.

Morning arrived like a zombie clawing its way out of a frozen grave—no matter how many times you fight it off, it keeps coming back.

Morning arrived like a polar bear on a bender—if it could see straight it would totally eat you.

Morning arrived like a train slowly departing the tracks—it’s not moving fast but it’s going to do a hell of a lot of damage before it stops.

Morning arrived like the crack of noon—as is only right and proper.

Morning arrived like a wildebeest in a prom dress—fancy, frilly, and disturbingly fragrant. Also, what’s it doing in your bedroom?

Morning arrived like the world’s biggest jackass braying endlessly about his awesomeness—he’s wrong about everything but achingly loud and now you’re awake.

Morning arrived like a hippopotamus masseuse—no matter how good its intentions it’s still going to crush you into paste.

Morning arrived like the 6 musk oxen of the demipocalypse—Disquiet, Disappointment, Disco, Dandruff, Donald, and Demographics.

Morning arrived like reality returning after its long party with bears—fuzzy, grumpy, smelling of vodka, and carrying snow shovels.

Morning arrived like an avalanche of lemmings—cute, fuzzy death from above, and you know they were pushed. That’s right, murder!

Morning arrived like an anaconda on roller blades—it can’t steer for shit but it’s moving fast and out to hug you to DEATH.

Morning arrived like a walrus with a tusk ache—angry, packed with blubber, and mighty slow to get out of bed.

Morning arrived like a fancy, friendly, frolicking rhinoceros—so cute until it stomps you into a delicate pink pulp.

Morning arrived like a steamroller going over a bunch of bananas—tragedy for the bananas, comedy for the next seven pedestrians.

Morning arrived like a shortcut through fantasyland—the giant goldfish is cool and the diplodocus won’t bite, but you’re never getting home.

Morning arrived like a dump truck load of cheesy poofs—basically harmless, but: wudwudwud, thump! All is cheesy darkness and cholesterol.

Morning arrived like Santa’s evil twin, Bob—he wears red on the outside because he feels red on the inside. He’s here for your stuff. (Bob Claus doesn’t say “ho-ho-ho.” He says “hold my beer,” and he brings you Brexit and Trump.)

Morning arrived like a thousand alarmed meerkats trapped under a down comforter—pop-pop-pop, aaaaah I can’t see anything!

Morning arrived like a crocodile breakfast guest—all smiles, but only because you’re on the menu.

Morning arrived like an ostrich valet—no matter how hard it tries to help you end up bleeding.

Morning arrived like a fountain of badgers…sooo many badgers—bouncing everywhere like hypnotic black and white death from above.

Morning arrived like a thousand raccoons wearing clown noses—they think they’re funny but it’s really just frightful beyond words.

Morning arrived like a gang of drunken kangaroos—bouncy, belligerent, brawling, barely coherent, and badly behaved.

Morning arrived like a woodpecker with a hangover—BAM-OW! BAM-OW! BAM-BAM-ARGH! BAM-BAM-BAM-DAMMIT! BAM-OW! ETC.

Morning arrived like a cantankerous panda—it might look harmless, but it’s basically roly-poly death by snugglecrush.

Morning arrived like a velvet balloon—its soft and snugly, but no matter how hard you try to pump it up it’s not going to fly.

Morning arrived like a walrus in powered assault armor—I was miles from the sea, miles…laser tusks…still had to go to work…the horror…

Morning arrived like a rhinoceros in a Maserati—it’s ridiculous, you can’t imagine how it got there, and it’s not going to end well.

Morning arrived like a tiger cub curling up next to you—super warm and cuddly, but if you move it might wake up and scream for mama.

Morning arrived like a cubic yard of live crickets—a horrible tangle of chitin, pointy little feet, and chirping…sooo much chirping

Morning arrived like a forgotten birthday—quiet until you remember you were supposed to have presents, reservations, a card…AIEEE!

Morning arrived like a barrel full of rocket scientists—and you thought the monkeys were disaster-prone…

Morning arrived like a tanker full of soft serve—sounds kind of awesome until it gets deep enough to overtop the bed. Then, brrrrr!

Morning arrived like last night’s bad decisions—past you was an idiot and a jerk, and you’re going to make future you pay!

Morning arrived like a rhinoceros on roller blades—kind of funny till you realize it’s inevitably going to crash and burn…on you.

Morning arrived like an affectionate walrus—sure, it’s adorable, but it’s also twenty-two hundred tons of tusked steamroller.

Morning arrived like a giant spatula—you know you’re about to get flipped into the frying pan and there’s not much you can do about it.

Morning arrived like a Komodo dragon in a kimono—elegant and alliterative but it’s a real problem when it mistakes you for breakfast.

Morning arrived like a six-pack of wolverines—fuzzy and kind of cute but once they get loose you’re going to have trouble.

Morning arrived like a balrog of Morgoth—drums…drums in the deep! Shadow and flame…alarm clock. Fly you fools!

Morning arrived like the butterfly effect—you know that one wrong move means everything goes to hell, so your best bet is to go back to sleep.

Morning arrived like a bobcat in a canoe—everything’s cool now, but when it inevitably tips you’re going to need a lot of bandages.

Morning arrived like a strained metaphor—the idea is kind of funny and surreal, but the through line doesn’t really make any sense.

Morning arrived like a plague of voles—it’s all fuzzy and looks harmless but it will cheerfully eat your corpse.

Morning arrived like a wave of weasel cavalry mounted on raccoons—you’re briefly mesmerized by the novelty, but then it rolls over you like fuzzy doom.

Morning arrived like a camel with sinus issues—it spits, it bites, it sneezes, but, worst of all, you know it’s here for you!

Morning arrived like a flatulent giraffe—at first it’s kind of funny, but then you realize it’s in your bedroom and that makes it your problem.

Morning arrived like a banshee with a sprained tongue—painfully loud and you know something awful’s afoot but you can’t understand the warning.

Morning arrived like an enormous ball of flaming gas rising above the horizon—big, brassy, bombastic and way too freaking early!

Morning arrived like a dump truck full of sea urchins–pointy, prickly, and a bitter reminder you’re not at a tropical beach.

Morning arrived like the gang of otters you hired to wallpaper your bedroom—wait, the who I hired to what now? Also, adhesives!

Morning arrived like a brick wall—yep, there’s a wall, it has bricks, and there’s no way you’re getting through it.

Morning arrived like a thundering herd of jackalopes—bouncy, fuzzy, oddly dangerous, and you really hope they _are_ fictional.

Morning arrived like a dryer lint avalanche—Foof! Foof, foof, foof! Fooffooffoof! FOOF! Before long it’s too deep to escape.

Morning arrived like a squad of confused badgers performing a group ice dance—it’s angry and horrific but somehow mesmerizing.

Morning arrived like an elephant in a tutu—it thinks it’s a ballerina, but even so, it’ll stomp you into jelly when it dances.

Morning arrived like six antelopes trying to get into a VW Beetle—basically, a clown car but with way more sharp pointy hooves.

Morning arrived like a sky-diving thanksgiving turkey—it only THINKS it can fly.

Morning arrived like a workman coming to shut off the gas for a bit—ever so polite but it’ll get colder before it gets better.

Morning arrived like ice crystals pattering on the roof of your tent—you’re warm and comfy now, but you know it’s all about to go to shit.

Morning arrived like chainsawing up an old oak—heavy, growly, dangerous, and count your fingers when you’re done.

Morning arrived like the steamroller backing over you—huge, heavy, and: Dammit, wasn’t getting me on your way forward enough for you?

Morning arrived like…what? 6:30? p.m.? You’re sure? How the hell… Yeah, so that’s how morning arrived today.

Morning arrived like a comforter stuffed with chinchillas—warm and cozy, yet wrong enough to keep you awake.

Morning arrived like a mirror falling off the headboard—fractured, slightly bloodied and, everywhere you look, your own exhaustion reflected back you.

Morning arrived like a dump truck full of clown noses-it’s squishy and funny, but you’re pretty sure something awful just happened.

Morning arrived like a swarm of house tumbleweeds—skritchy, confusing, and why the hell are they in my bedroom instead of off in a desert somewhere…

Morning arrived like a creeping army of cold-toed rats dragging their icy tails across my sleeping face.

Morning arrived like a hatful of fire ants. You’re not sure how it happened but you know it was a mistake the second you put it on.

Morning arrived like an avalanche of wombats—fuzzy, disturbing, and very very angry.

Morning arrived like a slow creeping wall of existential dread, which looks more or less like shadow and liver thrown in a blender going on high.

Morning arrived like a bag of frozen peas to the face—cold, hard, and unwanted, but not a bad numbing agent.

Morning arrived like 2,000 gallons of cold monkey piss—it’ll wake you up all right but you won’t enjoy it and you’ll smell awful afterward.

Morning arrived like a couple of chipmunks doing pushups on my eyeballs—chilly, scratchy, and smelling faintly of damp seeds.

Morning arrived like a two foot thick blanket of moss. Soft and warm, yet disturbingly difficult to get out from under.

Morning arrived like a troop of howler monkeys auditioning for a barbershop quartet—loud, hairy, and disturbing, yet strangely haunting.

Morning arrived like the gumbo you forgot in the back of the fridge—cold, thick, disturbingly fuzzy, and full of things better left unseen.

Morning arrived like leviathan slithering along a greased slip-n-slide: what the…oh my…NO! *SQUISH*

Morning arrived like a rollicking swarm of aches and pains looking for a new host for the summer holidays.

Morning arrived like a maple syrup tsunami—sticky and slow and deadly sweet as the amber waves smashes you under.

Morning arrived like a fresh fall of snow— fluffy, blurry, and cold.

Morning arrived like an angry muppet. Fuzzy, grumpy, and not entirely coherent, yet mostly harmless.

Morning arrived like a yak in a giant hamster ball—confused, fuzzy, erratic, and don’t get under it.

Morning arrived like a bucket of icy molasses. Cold, and sticky, but slow enough that you feel you ought to be able to get out of the way…

Morning arrived like a wood cart with mismatched wheels—creaky, clunky, slow, and turning gently to the left…

Morning arrived like a super-sized herd of berserk chinchillas today—feel like I’ve been run over by mass quantities of angry fuzz.

Morning arrived like a shambling horde of zombies, with bad breath, bad attitude, and bits falling off.

Morning arrived like a demented pack of howler monkeys opening an unlicensed day spa.

Morning arrived like a bushel basket full of live squidlets dumped over his head. #notwritingyet #justthewayitis

Morning arrived like a court summons, uninvited, unwanted, and unrelenting.

And then morning arrived with a whistle and a boom.

Morning arrived like a bag of happy squid. Slick and clingy and covered with suckers, yet still somehow cheerful.

Morning arrived like concrete pumped into a basement— cold, abrasive, and slowly stiffening and entombing your foundations.

Morning arrived like a lead filled duvet. You hardly know it’s there till you try to get out of bed. Then the struggle begins.

Morning arrived like a splinter in your sock. Mostly harmless, but deeply irritating and utterly relentless.

Morning arrived like a thief in the…well, er…morning—disoriented, out of sorts, and completely at the wrong time.

Morning arrived like a double armful of purring kitties, putting me right back to sleep till kitties left & morning stayed. Stupid morning.

Morning arrived like a steamroller with a bad bearing, huge, slow, squealing evilly, and flattening everything in its path. #flattened

Morning arrived like a wall of falling jello. (Cold, heavy, hard to get out from under, but relatively harmless) Lime, btw.

Morning arrived like a plateful of screaming noodles. Loud, floppy, and steamed.

Morning arrived on gray, splattery, feet. Better, I suppose, than the tiny white ninja stars the heavens are going to throw at us later.

Morning arrived like a wave of liquid cement. Slow, heavy, hard to get out from under, and well on its way to hiding the evidence.

Morning arrived like one of last week’s biscuit—hard, cold, and with the distinct feeling that it really ought to be better than this.

Morning arrived like a barrel of arthritic monkeys—shrieky, creaky, achey, and hot.

Morning arrived like a swarm of pixies armed with ball-peen hammers. Painful, and irritating, but unlikely to kill you. Ow.

Morning arrived like a long soak in hot water. See also: ahhhhhh… I could get used to that.

Morning arrived like a pile of insecure cats. In possibly related news, I’m trapped.

Morning arrived like a thundering horde of electricians. Exactly like.

Morning arrived like a bucket of angry sea monkeys delivered in the traditional way. Cruel, yet somehow still funny, because: sea monkeys!

Morning arrived like a soggy muffin. Squishy, spongy, disappointing, and yet, you know you’re still going to have to eat it.

Morning arrived like a cat’s ass…i.e. preceded by a cat.

Morning arrived like a straightjacket made entirely of cats…get a little help here?

Morning arrived like a crushing black weight… *blinks* Jordan? Oh. Morning arrived like a fat black cat. Crushing & fuzzy, yet oddly sweet.

Morning arrived like a tiny steamroller built just for hands. Not very dangerous overall, but deadly to it’s intended prey.

Morning arrived like a splash page of dinosaur erotica book covers on my facebook wall. I don’t even…

Morning arrived like a pile of cold cats complaining about the weather. Warm, worried, and weighing down the coverszzzzzzzz…

Morning arrived like a looming deadline, panicked, sweaty, and…well mostly panicked and sweaty, really.

Morning arrived like tiny bits of frozen water falling from the sky. Cold, tingly, and alarming as they melt on the top of my bald head.

Morning arrived like a memory-foam sledgehammer—awful when it’s coming for your face, but merely heavy and slightly suffocating on impact.

Morning arrived like itself, early, unwelcome, and very very meta.

Morning arrived like the Gorilla of Regret—heavy, hairy, and with the vague sense that you’d done something you oughtn’t.

Morning arrived like a troop of marmosets with agendas. Individually kind of cute, but in aggregate way too many things to schedule.

Morning arrived like the eight tiny reindeer of the apocalypse: A merry Armageddon to all and to all unending night! Now, Crasher! Now, Spammer! Now, Scammer, and Nixon! On, Comet! On, Cruelty! On, Downer and Blitzkrieg!

Morning arrived like honey poured over scrambled eggs. Slow and golden and with the sudden realization that you thought they were pancakes.

Morning arrived like a fall of lead feathers—looking light and fluffy, but hard and heavy and full of poison.