These have become near and dear to my heart. I can’t tell you what a pleasure it’s been stringing clichés together as snug as a bug in a rug. Even though I’m not making money hand over fist, I’m having more fun than a kid in the candy store.
I know you’re tingling with anticipation, so let’s see if I can knock your socks off with another one for the books.
She went to the school of hard knocks and I’m no rocket scientist. We’re like two peas in a pod, looking on the bright side of life and full of mischief. We go together hand in hand every which way but loose. There’s nothing stopping us from going down the garden path, marching to the beat of a different drummer, and all around seeing the world through rose colored glasses.
We have our heads in the clouds, but when she was in hot water, we decided this is for the birds and banded together to beat the odds. If it’s not one thing it’s another, and this time she got caught with her hand in the cookie jar. I tell you, if it weren’t for bad luck, she would have no luck at all.
Many hands make light work, so we put out some feelers to find the creme de la creme of foot loose and fancy free spring chickens to form a cult of personality. The more the merrier, and misery loves company, so we gathered like flies to face this problem head on.
We got down to the nitty gritty and busted our humps to put our feet to the fire and make the best laid plans of mice and men. My stomach was tied up in knots, knowing it was a long shot, but I kept my chin up.
She saw we were not made in the shade and turned white as a sheet and looked like death warmed over. I said, for the love of God, get a grip on yourself and keep your eye on the ball. This is no time buckle under the pressure. She was so quiet we could hear a pin drop. I reminded her, when the going gets tough, the tough get going, and together we are as tough as nails. She wears her heart on her sleeve and started to curse a blue streak. It was not a pretty sight.
It’s a good rule of thumb to always be prepared and we were prepared to fight fire with fire. When it was time to fan the flames we kept a stiff upper lip. We got down to brass tacks to go for broke and cut through all the red tape by playing both ends against the middle.
Every cloud has a silver lining and we weathered the storm by working together to give a hundred and ten percent. Everything came up daisies and that trouble with a capital T is now water under the bridge. But now the shoe’s on the other foot and I’m stirring up trouble, but we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.
Previous Cliché Stories
- Take 4, Shoot The Breeze
- Take 3, Third Time’s The Charm
- Take 2, The Show Must Go On
- Take 1, Cliché Touché