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.