I’ve learned to not let rejection bother me. How can it bother me, when all the people who’ve rejected me have been murdered, and their bodies smartly disposed of?

My clones better not wear invisible cloaks. How am I supposed to find myself as a person if I can’t even find my clones?

I let go of her memory the moment I let go of her hand. She fell over 500 feet to her death.

A Dragon Rose is a flying flower that breathes fire. A relationship isn’t truly a romance if there isn’t a tiny element of danger involved.

Like the ocean I wave. Hello and goodbye are the same, when I talk with my hand.

I could fuck on my back like 4:44. But I don’t. I do it like 3:33.

My fake mullet wig turns women on. Probably.

It’s me and you, or me and knitting. Don’t make me choose. Ugh, #love.

I once inscribed the word “Ennui” backwards on my forehead, and I was so bored that I stared at it in the mirror for hours. And at the end of that time, I felt like...

In the spirit of slumber parties, I want to have a sleepover and invite only narcoleptics.

If artists often get famous posthumously, then there is only one thing for me to do—fake my own death. Or I could just wait for science to give me a clone, and kill him instead....

I just got circumcised, and to help the homeless, I’m going to make a tent out of my foreskin. But right now I’m offering free coffee if you haven’t got a place to sleep.

It’s not how much you paid, but how much it would cost to replace it that’s important. What is the price of love?

I’m a dyslexic dancer. Instead of leading the women, I follow. Quick, cab driver, follow that woman!

I eat soup with chopsticks—and straws. And I make love with the surgical precision of a sledgehammer.

so you suspect his death was a suicide.

I make love like Brett Favre threw his first pass as a Green Bay Packer—to himself. Obviously, himself is myself.

Don’t litter.

Half my body is sunburned, and the other half is melted like ice cream. But at least my love for her is still cold.

She looked like the kind of woman I could fall in love with. Trouble is, she was standing next to the kind of woman I’d like to make love to.

Sexy isn’t my middle name. Lust-factory is, with the hyphen.

Love is the jelly to sunshine’s peanut butter. And if I tell you that I’m in sandwich with you, I’m not just saying it to get in your Ziploc bag.

A blanket could represent change, and a brick represents consistency. Do you embrace the blanket, or the brick?

To love someone as much as you love yourself, that is the ideal. Especially if that someone is your clone.

Even though I know my own name (barely), I still sometimes write my name wrong. Usually it only happens when I write in cursive and am endorsing checks for money I can’t recall earning.

Hydrogenated and androgynous milky white love is all I have to offer you. Would you like me to pour it in your coffee, or directly into your soul?

I’m trying to translate what my cat says and put it in a book, but how many homonyms are there for meow?

A unicorn breathes rainbows like a dragon breathes fire. My coffee breathes Jarod Kintz quotes.

Johnny Kickstand bullied me in middle school. Today, Kickstand stands 4’7” tall. Well, he would stand that tall if he weren’t in a wheelchair. So he’s a cripple and a midget, but he still whooped...

This is my logo for Ora

I love Blue Ribbon coffee, and she loves Red Ribbon coffee. I don’t love her, because how could I love someone who loves losers?

I went on a blind date last night. We watched a silent film. We stayed up all night talking in sign language. I fell asleep in the fetal position in her cat’s litter box. Ah,...

I had a dream about you. Dinner for two turned into dinner for three when you told me you were pregnant. I was excited, but a little nervous, because we were at a fancy restaurant...

I never scoff at coffins, because they’re like coffee cups you can bathe in. Well, coffins are like Starbucks’ coffee cups, only they have more life inside.

The idea of a blind date scares me. But a deaf date would be great.

I make love with my eyes closed, because I make love in my dreams. If you wanted to go for seconds, we could, because I make love buffet style.

I would be out of town, but every time I move, my home keeps relocating to where I’m at. My coffee is caffeinated, and my friends are either decaffeinated or nonexistent.

At church, during communion, they give out free wine. Whoa! Talk about a great place to drink and meet women.

I had a dream about you. I thought together we could change the world, but you said you’d rather change the TV channel. But you were all talk, because you never even did that. So...

Sometimes I’ll read a book and feel it was written just for me. Then I’ll flip the book over to look at the cover to see who wrote it, only to discover that it feels...

This white guy’s probably all defensive because the black guy accused him of being the killer. But come on, the white guy’s obviously not the killer, because only one murder took place. Now, if there...

I had a dream about you. You fell into my arms like a 120-pound sack of gold coins. So I did what any respectable lover would do—I buried you in the backyard so nobody could...

My advice is to write during commercial breaks, and read while your favorite TV show is on mute.

Love is a blur. So is this picture. But what do you expect? Murder is fuzzy, like a peach. Yummy!

If I were a box of cereal, I wouldn’t want to talk about myself any more than I do now. Just flip me over and read all about me if you’re curious. Everything you need...

There are going to be a lot of eyes on this year’s annual Blindfold Convention. People always want to watch what they can’t watch.

I wouldn’t say I’m superficial, just averagely ficial.

Through a history book, I can time travel. Especially a history book from the future.

I need to dig a hole the size of the Grand Canyon to bury all of my problems.

The only gift I have to give, is the ability to receive. If giving is a gift, and it surely is, then my gift to you is to allow you to give to me.