Bassim
VIP Member
- Joined
- Mar 1, 2008
- Member Type
- Student or Learner
- Native Language
- Bosnian
- Home Country
- Bosnia Herzegovina
- Current Location
- Sweden
Do my sentences sound natural? Is it OK to say "as furious as a wasp"?
Because the bouncers wouldn't let him in, James became as furious as a wasp. He swore at them and called them names, and when people in the queue tried to calm him down, he turned his anger at them. I watched him thinking this was the last time I was out with him. When he was sober, James was the kindest man you could meet, but when he got a few pints in him, it was impossible to reason with him. On a couple of occasions, I was ashamed when I had to apology to bouncers, landlords and nightclub owners for his behaviour, and I had had enough.
That evening, he reminded me of a fighting cock, his blond hair disheveled, his eyes bloodshot, his arms flailing. I thought it was luck he was short and light, otherwise he would probably look more menacing . As I watched him having his outburst, I thought if he knew what he was doing, he would never have touched a bottle. And I felt pity for his wife who was waiting for him in their flat. I wondered why she tolerated his drinking bouts and hadn't divorce him already.
Suddenly, James came up to a bouncer and tried to punch him, only to be floored by a hard right. Before he could understand what was going on, other bouncers grabbed him by his arms and legs and held him pinned to the ground. A couple of women screamed while James uttered some squeal-like sounds. I didn't move and watched the incident with amusement. When you are thirty-five you should act your age, I thought. Then the police van arrived and James was bundled into it and they drove off down the empty street. My father's voice sounded in my mind: "Only an idiot uses alcohol as a drug."
Because the bouncers wouldn't let him in, James became as furious as a wasp. He swore at them and called them names, and when people in the queue tried to calm him down, he turned his anger at them. I watched him thinking this was the last time I was out with him. When he was sober, James was the kindest man you could meet, but when he got a few pints in him, it was impossible to reason with him. On a couple of occasions, I was ashamed when I had to apology to bouncers, landlords and nightclub owners for his behaviour, and I had had enough.
That evening, he reminded me of a fighting cock, his blond hair disheveled, his eyes bloodshot, his arms flailing. I thought it was luck he was short and light, otherwise he would probably look more menacing . As I watched him having his outburst, I thought if he knew what he was doing, he would never have touched a bottle. And I felt pity for his wife who was waiting for him in their flat. I wondered why she tolerated his drinking bouts and hadn't divorce him already.
Suddenly, James came up to a bouncer and tried to punch him, only to be floored by a hard right. Before he could understand what was going on, other bouncers grabbed him by his arms and legs and held him pinned to the ground. A couple of women screamed while James uttered some squeal-like sounds. I didn't move and watched the incident with amusement. When you are thirty-five you should act your age, I thought. Then the police van arrived and James was bundled into it and they drove off down the empty street. My father's voice sounded in my mind: "Only an idiot uses alcohol as a drug."
