The Surrealist Compliment Generator has been around the Internet for some time, but I just got around to playing with it this morning.
Most of the compliments are rather diminishing, but here are my favorites:
The tiny sounds of ancient bees resound forth from the forrested coercions between your toes.
Your presence reminds one of a blind jackal, eternally dependent upon misguided archbishops to provide instruction in bowling.
Your eyes are much like milky pools of pantyhose.
Ever do your tears shed forth an peal of epidermal thunder!
What beautiful negligence you wear!
Flies dance operas to your wisdom.
You have no socially redeeming value.
In your presence even my shadow acquires the sensation of touch.
You have the intrepid appeal of a carnivorous apple on its way to a pile of cadaveric stones.
Your tears evoke a taste as memorable as honey.
You enter while seven exits.
You foment graciously, as ever any dying monster did rot.
Ah! how the play of light upon your shoulders does bring one to reminisce of fallen lighthorsemen and gaseous trenches.
Fast blinking reveals the true visage of time pieces hidden within your eyes.
I see your loves in cloves.
You look like a million paces tonight.
You meander through love as a river delta contemplating levitation.
Luminescence breeds in your finest moments of desperation.
Your unexpected explosion entangles us in a web of premature umbrellas and precocious timepieces.
You are a banana moon subverting the sun.
Be still, my love, my watermelon rind. I am consumed with your collection of agile fans and pocked blades.