Tonight’s talk radio was full of metaphors. Bad ones. Really bad ones.

It started off with a discussion on the war in Afghanistan, Pakistan, Waziristan and all those other stans. There were quite a few bad actors on that stage, one of the listeners called in to say, and another one called in to venture the opinion that the conflict started with bin Laden. “When you look around that Monopoly board,” he began with a lead-in that made us wince, “he’s the goose that laid the golden egg.”
Geeze. Even wet cement doesn’t get that mixed.

It shouldn’t have been able to go any further downhill than that, but it did when a librarian called in to tell an author that she couldn’t keep his books on the shelf. “They’re flying like hotcakes,” she told him.

Flying. Like. Hotcakes?

Hmmmm. They’re flying … like … um, I don’t know … something with wings … that flies …

“Birds?”

No … you know, those flying things …

“Airplanes?”

… hmmm … no … it’s right on the tip of my tongue …

“Paul McCartney?”

… oh, I know! Hotcakes!

Sorry, license to use the English language revoked!