Love is a banana. First you peel it, and then you roll on the condom.
I love full on, like 65 mph in a handicapped parking spot.
I make love with a focus and intensity that most people reserve for sleep.
Love isn’t two matching unicycles. Love is a bicycle—and mine just got stolen.
We made love like two people trying to make love like three people in the trunk of a car.
I am the Trolley of Love. Free rides before noon and after 11:58 am!
I love like I’m thirsty. Can I offer you a tall glass of Sahara sand?
I’m a dog lover and sex addict. Those two things are unrelated.