Welcome to Cliche Thursday, where each week we deconstruct 5 expressions that we’ve all become a little too familiar with and ask you for some of your own least favorites.
Today we’re getting a little violent…
Here we go…
“Don’t shoot me, I’m just the messenger” – and for future reference, even if I’m not just the messenger next time, don’t shoot me then either.
In fact, here’s a rule of thumb to go by for all of our future interactions. No matter what I am, never shoot me.
“Bite the Bullet” – Legend has it that they used to give wounded soldiers a bullet to bite on when undergoing surgical procedures before the invention of anesthesia.
Maybe I’m an idiot, but couldn’t we have found something less dangerous for these guys to stick between their clenched teeth than a live round? How about a rock? A piece of wood? An angry mongoose? I guess it wasn’t bad enough that these guys were having limbs amputated with no pain meds, we wanted to try and blow all the teeth out of their mouth as well.
“I’ll be a son of a gun” – But to be honest, I didn’t have much of a choice. My daddy really did love that female rifle of his.
“He who lives by the sword, dies by the sword” – That’s because most people die in their houses.Truth is, this expression works no matter what you live next to.
Move next to a pumpkin patch and suddenly this expressions becomes “He who lives by the gourd, dies by the gourd.”
“Let’s bury the hatchet” – and let’s hope no one around here owns a metal detector, because if they dig that thing up, our fingerprints are all over it. And blood. There’s a lot of blood on that hatchet. And maybe carving the names of our victims into the wooden handle was too much? Yeah, it probably was. So was autographing the blade in a sharpie.
You know what? Less talking, more digging.