We made love like water makes life, and thinking about it makes me so horny I’m thirsty. My cup runneth over, but if I want to play, I have to protect myself with a jockstrap.

My armpits are not only rank, but they’re ranked number one in customer satisfaction. Try them for free or your money back.

A brick could be dropped in a toilet to replicate the sound of shitting bricks. But we wouldn’t have to go through all that trouble if you’d just eat the bricks I put on your...

I don’t like sleeping, but I do like watching the inside of my eyelids. That’s how I drive, and that’s how I make love. Honk when you’re finished.

My erection is made of iron, and metal detectors make me horny.

A brick could be cast in Samuel Jackson roles. It would be cheaper and more dramatic.

I like make-up sex. My imagination is so much more powerful than reality that it’s just better when I make it up.

I accidentally sealed the box shut with my penis still inside, not realizing I may need to use it later. Being in love can be so distracting.

I keep a human brain in my pocket, because you never know when you’ll never know.

Making love is second to none. My masturbating habits are first to none.

Generally, competition is a good thing. But not when it’s between two nipples, specifically mine, over which one can suck the most.

She had eyes like sunsets, and every time she blinked it felt like the end of the world, otherwise known as night.

Her vagina feels like home, while her sister’s vagina feels like a hotel room. I should ask for a late checkout.

I want to start a band called “Friday Have Been Cancelled” and then hold open auditions every Friday. The sign will read, “Auditions For Friday Have Been Cancelled.” I sure hope nobody shows up because...

I don’t know what the old you was like, but the new you, the older you than the old you, is new and fresh.

I make love like Siberia, only with less heat and more of an isolated feeling.

Remember Stalingrad. Remember the crash of 1929. Remember the Industrial Revolution. Now remember that I am the proletariat cog in the machine that causes the meltdown of the aristocratic assembly line. Ben Franklin was a...

Welcome to,to,to,to,to Stutterville! P,p,p,please have a seat on your own lap.

I’ll bet I could find some hurtful words in a pile of sticks and stones. Something like an insincere and deceptive “I love you.

Everyone should drink of me, but I shouldn’t be drunk by everyone. I should be drunk all by myself.

I’ve decided to donate my arsenal of machine guns to a hunting charity. That should help raze a million bucks.

#Networking is people looking for people looking for people. As for me, I’m more of a birdwatcher.

I’m not a ref, but I assigned her the penalty of clipping, and I told her to drop the scissors and step away from the newspaper ads.

If I had a last name for a first name, a first name for a last name, and a middle name to wear as a safety harness, I think I’d be much better equipped to...

Happy Birthday.”

I have an abnormally shaped brain. According to neuroimaging, my brain looks like a curled up sleeping kitten. That’s how I make love like meow.

You’re first place in my heart. And here’s a second-place ribbon from my third grade shuttle run to prove it. I’ve kept it all these years to remind myself that I’m a winner.

I love like an albino. But I don’t want to get sunburned, so would you please pass the ketchup?

Do you mind if I use your bathroom? I haven’t made dinner yet.

She made my heart melt, like butter. I loved her over a juicy corn on the cob.

Networking is more quality, and less quantity. It’s better to form a solid connection with one new person, than a liquid connection with ten. You don’t want people to think you drink too much.

I prefer kissing over dinner. Not that I prefer kissing to dinner, but I prefer kissing over the plate containing my dinner, especially if my dinner consists of something romantic like monkey brains.

I asked possible witnesses about the invisible man shaped like a whisper, and nobody saw or heard anything. Which means he was there, and he is probably my father.

I don’t like walking, I don’t like shoes, and I don’t like roller skating in a wheelchair—too many wheels, and not enough sitting.

I’m an extreme athlete. I’m into cuddling. I wonder if Red Bull would sponsor me.

Sometimes I feel like I’m living in my father’s shadow. But then he takes a few steps, or bends down to stretch his back, and I get to enjoy the sunlight for a few moments.

This morning I ate a hamburger for breakfast, and then wept like a baby into an open jar of mayonnaise. I guess that’s just the champion in me.

Nobody would use scissors to mow a golf course, I need a haircut, and I’ve only got 18 holes to do it in. If I had a wheelchair, maybe I could improve my handicap.

Love is a feel-good feeling, like feeling a cat’s fur while my hair is on fire and my grandpa is reciting the pledge of allegiance while staring at my star-spangle-bannered boxers.

My last two girlfriends were named Anna, though the second one spelled her name backwards. So instead of Anna, it was spelled Anna, and that’s how I came to tell the two apart.

I put out the Gary call, but only two Gregs and a Susan came. Oh well, if they don’t want to snuggle, I suppose I’ll just sell my surplus supply.

Witty sayings don’t grow on bumpers the way babies do. I was raised by a single rush hour.

I think the best punishment for a misbehaving child is to strap them to a chair and make them listen to Lady Gaga. Actually, perhaps that’s too cruel, too close to torture.

She said no to my sexual advances. Makes me wonder if she even knew the seven colors of the rainbow add up to the length of my penis.

We’ll make plans on sticky notes and we’ll stick to them. We’ll get married, but only after we buy some milk, cereal, and a book of baby names.

Love splattered on my life like bird shit on a windshield.

I am two Jennifers away from making love to an Emily. It always seems like two people with one name are constantly standing in the way of my dreams. I wish they’d step aside so...

Like a pair of dead batteries, I felt energized. Love is the light in my Can of Darkness.

I live my life by a code. I drew on the Magna Carta for inspiration. It may have been the most expensive doodle ever. The British Library kicked me out, and threatened to prosecute me...

I am who I pretend to be, and right now I’m pretending to be my own clone.