War is a lot like a dead stripper. It’s embarrassing to have one in the garden when the vicar comes round.
War is a lot like a garden centre. You wouldn’t want to have to go back if you left your coat.
War is a lot like the assassination of the Queen. In twenty years, it’ll make a great film, providing light sabres are involved.
War is a lot like sawing a badger in half. A bloody spectacle, and the hosts of the dinner party tend to want you to leave afterwards.
Wars are a lot like the Guy Ritchie Sherlock films; I find it hard to believe that anyone genuinely enjoys them.
Our love is like a box of chocolates; I bought it.
Electoral reform is a lot like an oak tree; it looks out of place in a municipal swimming pool.
His opinions are a lot like French cheeses; there are a surprising number of them, and almost all of them are unpleasant.