I arose like a rose, and this is how I knew I was in love. In the garden of life, I’m better off in your neighbor’s yard.

Somebody should merge motorcycles and toilets. You know, for the lover in all of us, just waiting to be released.

I had a dream about you. I asked you to dance, and you said you already had a partner. That was when I noticed you were embracing a mannequin, and I felt my face get...

If I started yesterday, I’d be a master of tomorrow.

Noon yellow is needed to combat my inner albino. But I prefer spreading my shadow thin like mayonnaise. Ours is a nighttime love.

I had a dream about you. You’d never been in an elevator before, and I’d never been in love. I said I could help you, and you said you could help me. I got excited...

A brick is a rust-colored blur of movement, caught in a moment, and transformed from motion into a physical object. Studying this brick would give scientists an insight into how fast I run.

I don’t like breakfast—I prefer fixslow. I eat it like I devour your love, and it may take time, but we can put our relationship back together. Just pass me the maple syrup.

I had a dream about you. We made love like two albinos in the snow. Even though I could see everything, I couldn’t see anything.

A brick could be used as a measurement of time. Yes, just think how stylish you’ll look with a brick duct taped to your wrist!

If swimming in gold were a sport, I’d be the Michael Phelps, and my winning would lead to more winning, as my gold made more gold.

The Cat In The Hat,” I won’t need to protect my sensitive lips anymore.

Agatha was so tight-fisted she could squeeze a penny and strangle Abe Lincoln.

I’ll invite you to try my wedding. Free samples until Tuesday!

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.

My brother was a great swimmer. He was as fast as a shark. Well, almost. It beat him by a half a leg’s length, right below the knee.

I got arrested for driving naked. I guess I shouldn’t have put four wheels, an engine, and a steering wheel on my bathtub. I’m a do-it-yourself kind of lover.

It’s 4:00 in the afternoon and I’m just now putting on clothes. The life of a writer is as free as the pizza I just had delivered is not.

She Bangs.” It won’t be about a sexually loose woman, but rather it will be a knock-knock joke.

My love is a cloud sound, silent as an orange flamingo. Too many swimmers have drowned while trying to fly, and there should be a law against making a law against that.

Music enters through the ear, not the penis hole. This is probably a common mistake most deaf men make.

A blanket could be split in two—divided in half, like hereditary territory one inherits. And once you’ve got half the blanket, you’d better stay on your side of the bed—or else I’m going to tell...

Her hair was red, like a flame. And my penis was long, like a commercial break. Hey, hold the elevator!

Unless I’m at a wedding, I don’t like veiled threats.

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?

You want me to wear a condom?!

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.

I make love like a lump of cold oatmeal. I apologize if that mental image excites you and makes you hunger for me.

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.

If I were a number, I’d want to have sextillion with you.

My fake mullet wig turns women on. Probably.

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

L and V, both angular. O and E, both vowels. Coupled together, like a couple of couples coupling and copulating, and you have love. All this talk of sex makes me nostalgic for the Rasputin...

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.

I need to go to the store and pick up some condoms. But first I need to pick up some women.

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.

I’ll sit on a soda and drink a sofa. It’s just healthier. You should see how I make love. Show starts at 8:00. Tickets are ten bucks at the window.

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!

To talk about love isn’t as good as to make about love. During sexual intercourse, I’m very approximate.

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.

The two coolest names would be Stewart Stuart, and Stuart Stewart. For a woman, it would make normal sex feel like a threesome.

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

Don’t litter.