I want to lose weight by eating nothing but moon pies, which have significantly less gravity than earthier foods such as fruits and vegetables.

It’s easier to win an argument over a dinner you’re paying for.

She told me she might not be there when I get back, and I got so angry I said something stupid. I told her I might not be there when I get back either.

Coffee has a way of waking me up like no alarm clock can. Not only do I sleepwalk, but I sleepdrink, and I often don’t wake up until 5:00 PM, when I leave work.

You could argue I’m a loser, but I’d win that debate thus proving you wrong by proving you wrong.

My I love you was a measured response, like one gallon of coffee in one cup of sugar. It was just overflowing with an awakening of my soul.

Love is a roundness, like a hole—a black hole. If what she wants is space, I’ll give her space—enough to fill an auditorium that has ample seating for a lecture by Stephen Hawking.

Do I attribute my success to hard work, or sunscreen? If you want the truth, maybe you should ask my new albino secretary.

A brick could be used to cut things. The duller the object, the sharper the user has to be to make it work.

A blanket could be used like a cat, if it were furry and purred.

A brick could be used to control whole populations of people. Just get a good looking person, like a news anchor, to give it out to the masses and say soothing things with a straight face and all will be OK and the system will continue on as centrally planned.

I know the secret number of the universe. It’s one, for the individual in search of the secret number. But the secret itself is love, and lies outside of one.

I used to wrestle, and I had a perfect record. I never failed to fail.

A brick could be used in the back part of a director’s last name, to make an epic space odyssey.

A blanket could be used as a shield, in a fight with a cold shower. I know, because I won that battle this morning, only I wielded a sword—and an erection made of sleep.

A brick could be used to show you how much I love you. Well, maybe not a whole brick, but certainly a half a brick would be an accurate measure for the amount of love I have for you.

A brick could be used to show support for your favorite team. They want to crush their opponents, and if you’ve got the arm strength and accuracy, you should do everything in your power to help them do just that.

A brick could be used to replace the brother you never had. Well, it’s only a possibility, but you probably won’t like it, because as soon as your parents gain another child, you’ll quickly find out that you were only their favorite child because you were their only child.

A brick could be used to create a new society, a perfect society, where there is no inequality, there are no laws, and most importantly, there are no people.

A brick could be used to suppress the price of gold. But not for very long, because once the people realize the unrealized potential in undercutting the central bankers, gold will rise and fiat currency will sink.

A blanket could be used to rob a bank. Guns are so Bonnie and Clyde, but a blanket bank robbery has a certain amount of seduction involved. A blanket has a lot more banging involved than the bang-bang of a gun.

Trying to resist my love is like trying to hold back a tsunami with a surfboard. My advice is to take up boogie boarding.

It’s good if you think bad thoughts, because at least you’re thinking. That’s more than most people do.

I think I have a strange thing growing out of my neck that causes me to think too much.

Thoughtlessness—I try not to think about it.

Which is more valuable into showing how I think: the order I think of things, or the order in which I arrange them once I’ve thought of them?

I didn’t do a 180-degree turn on my thinking. I simply swiveled my chair around so I could dismiss the idea from the other side.

If you expect others to think for you, then you expect others to live your life for you. And I’m sorry, but the only person I’ll let live my life for me is my clone. He thinks like me, so I’m OK with him thinking for me.

If I had a clone, I could list myself as a character reference.

Conspiracy theorists like to claim NASA’s moon landing was faked. Well of course it was! But the biggest conspiracy of all is the Columbus landed in the new world in the late 15th century. There is no new world. It simply doesn’t exist. And Amerigo Vespucci? He was a character out of Walt Disney’s diary.

Other candidates may say they have 10 years of real-world experience, but I say, What, did they work nonstop with no sleep for a decade? If that’s the case, then I am an expert sleeper with a decade of surreal-world experience.

Ethics”, and I said, Sure, I might enjoy a bit of stand-up comedy.

A brick could be used to grow your annual income by a factor of four. What, you don’t believe me? Are you calling me a liar?

A brick could be used as a book cover. Talk about hardcover!

A blanket could be used to sail with the wind. That wind is provided by my ceiling fan, and my boat is my bed. Why don’t you come over, and I’ll teach you the art of seafaring.

Quiet night. Silence at full capacity. Noiselessness is spilling over like a coffee cup full of jock cock. In a contact sport I’ve got to protect my genitals.

My hush is lush. It’s drunk on its own greenness, just as I’m drunk on my blue silence. What would you say if I asked you to turquoise?

Silence is golden, and gold is up these days, so silence is a solid investment.

The silence sounded like a fire alarm in my ears.

You don’t say.

We both tried to speak at the same time, and ended up remaining silent the whole night. That’s when I realized we were in love.

I swallow my own lies with big gulps, as if quickly chugging the chance of getting caught. No lie makes man thirstier than a dishonest I love you.

Abstain from reading comedy or other government economic statistics.

Wrapped inside one is love. Wrapped inside another is hate. What do you think is wrapped inside the third? If you answered meat, beans, and cheese, you’d be correct.

Hate.

My favorite snack is vagina. The only thing I hate is unwrapping all that saran wrap.

My friends call me Two Socks Kintz. They used to call me Barefoot Orafoura, but then someone gave me some socks. That was mighty kind of them.

My fate is sealed, like a new jar of peanut butter, but that doesn’t mean it has to be crunchy.

As an atheist hates Christmas, I hate the fourth of July.

A light on my car’s dashboard came on, and instead of fixing the problem, I waited for the bulb to burn out. Crisis solved.