Books are portable companions. But so are midgets.

If my remote control doubled as a dildo, I’d never get off my ass to change the channel.

Sell canoes to those who are enduring a drought, and sell sunscreen to those suffering from flooding. But give love freely to all, because samples encourage sales.

My name is Mr. Potatohead, and I’m looking for my wife. But I fear I’m too late, and that she’s already part of some combo meal somewhere.

A hotel is more than bricks and blankets. A hotel is a welcoming atmosphere, and a place to engage in a business transaction with a prostitute.

We see beyond our eyes, but not back into them, at least not without the self-deceptive help of a mirror. Squeegees are for lovers.

I’m not a hillbilly—I’m a hillwilliam. Or, rather, a William Hill. That was my name at the last networking conference, when I stole a nametag to make friends without fear of insulting them with lasting...

A brick could be God’s gift to man (and woman), and we wouldn’t even know it because we’re all obsessed with iPads, luxury cars, and of course, my body.

I’m taller in tolerance than I am in height. Barely. I’m only 6’3, so I apologize for not being more understanding.

I think guns would be more effective if bullets worked like boomerangs.

I want to write a poem about “Truth,” “Honor,” “Dignity,” and whether the toilet paper should roll over or under when you pull on it.

I don’t trust mutes. By their silence, I wonder what they’re hiding. The lost Templar treasure, mysteries of the universe, my love for you—who knows what they could have hidden away.

I think ghosts think I think they taste like cheese. I also think ghosts think I love cheese more than any other food. That’s why I’ve never seen a ghost. They’re afraid of me, afraid...

A brick could be used to symbolize my fear. You may snicker and call me an irrational coward, but many people are afraid of spiders, and my fear, the brick, is a killer of spiders....

The shape of her smile is curved like a lie, like a boomerang she knows she has to catch quickly when it comes back to her.

The most environmentally friendly last name is Green.

Blankets could be used to make perimeter walls, to keep out an invading army wielding pillows instead of swords.

A magician who could make the audience’s problems disappear—now that’s someone I’d pay to throw tomatoes at. If I didn’t have any problems, I’d still have a problem, because I’d have nothing to blame my...

There were yogurt-colored clouds that afternoon, and I was there, blotting out your sun with a spoon.

A brick could be used to cook with, as a thickening agent in gravy. But as history proves, the thickest agents work for the government as tax collectors.

This guy has a look on his face like he’s just realized that one day he will most assuredly die. Killing someone has a way of focusing our minds on our own mortality. I mean...

Did you know you can drink food? It’s true! It’s called soup, and I eat it with a fork. I’m as efficient as the government.

A brick could be used to represent my hero. My hero obviously doesn’t look like a brick, but since he is my hero I decided to represent him as more handsome and interesting than he...

He’s not my son, but his last name is Myson. Same spelling, big difference.

flag” in camouflage, though you couldn’t see by looking at it. (I hide behind my patriotism, and I hide my patriotism among red, white, and blue foliage.)

I had a dream about you. I told you I wanted to start running, so you bought me some horseshoes and a saddle. Well, the saddle was more for you. I wish people would stop...

A brick could be used to sell tickets to a new sport called Glurping. If you think it sounds disgusting now, wait until you see it live!

Dear Nike, please advise your runners that if they don’t collapse and die after running a marathon, they’re not doing it right. Don’t just do it—do it right.

Taxes and Texas—they have the same letters, but only one can go to hell.

A blanket could be used for a soft opening of a new casino. The softer the better, I always say. Well, I don’t always say that. I say other stuff too.

Love is a speedy bird that looks like a fish. If you catch one in the sky, try not to drown.

A quick smile, a nod of recognition, a hearty laugh, these are the sorts things you can do to make people feel welcomed as you keep them locked up in your torture dungeon.

A hotel is a temporary aquarium for people. That’s why I travel with a fishing pole, and erectile dysfunction medicine.

My love is as blue as the sky, and if I had to attach a time to it I’d say midnight.

I haven’t the faintest idea how babies are born, probably because I fainted on the day I was born.

I own the night, and all the blackness that isn’t. It is isn’t.

Together me and Amy are Jaramy. Pearl Jam wrote a song about us speaking in class.

Yesterday I saved a baby, a boy, a man, and an old man from death, and all by simply not impregnating anybody. But I don’t consider myself a hero. Merely heroic, and also unable to...

She loves me. She must, because she left flowers in the fridge from her date. She knows how I love flower salad.

The ultimate weapon is Lady Gaga’s music. Why kill the enemy when you can play her music and they’ll want to kill themselves?

I can’t do my job, if you don’t do yours. I also can’t do my job, so can you do mine too?

The beautiful part about killing someone with an icicle is the murder weapon melts and then evaporates. And your assassination can be fruit flavored!

In my new job, I have big shoes to fill. My predecessor was a midget.

Nearly all of the men I admire are dead, because admiration is fueled by mystery. And what’s more mysterious than death? Nothing. Well, besides women, of course.

I can’t afford to be dishonest. I also can’t afford to be poor.

must” in mustard. Sadly, the only man alive who understands what I mean is dead. RIP Mitch Ketchup.

If I’m homeless and pushing a shopping cart filled with all my worldly possessions, don’t be surprised to see me stopped behind a few cars in the turning lane, because I’ve got to get off...

My name is Mr. Murderedscott. But if you want to know what happened to Scott, I didn’t kill him.

Get a watermelon, draw a face on it, and talk to it before making love to it.

I’m hypoglycemic and squeamish and liable to pass out at the first sign of blood. That happened this morning. I came into the kitchen and found blood on the floor, right next to a few...