Who art thou, Art? Do you make art the way I make love—with a paintbrush?

When I turn thirty, in thirty days or so, I might be feeling old, so I’ll probably call my grandma up, because as old as I’ll feel, she’ll be feeling older. Twelve years older.

To me, a good friend is one who doesn’t talk, but who listens all the time. Someone who is observant. Someone who wiretaps your phone lines. I consider myself a good friend.

I had sex with a statue a few months ago. The sex was so still that I’m still wearing the condom.

I want my last 50 years on this earth to be amazing. Of course, I still want to have 150 years before those last 50 years begin.

I call him by his first name only. We’re that friendly. Plus, with a last name of McGee, why would I ever bother calling him by his full name of Dicksmear McGee?

My dreams have wings. But not soaring eagle wings, more like the wings of a butterfly—colorful and easily ripped off. The last time my dreams got ripped off was when I shopped at Walmart, the...

It’s impossible for me to applaud your successes when my hands are too busy patting myself on the back. But if I clap for you, and you pat my back, we can both feel like...

I’m afraid of my shadow, and my shadow’s afraid of the light. That’s why Noon is my best friend, and I hang out with him at midnight.

01210 is a pyramid, & worms move like handicapped snakes. My dream belongs in a wheelchair, because I just spilled coffee all over my sleep.

A brick could be used in a knee replacement surgery, to build back the wall separating man from a sub four-minute mile. Damn you, Roger Bannister!

I am the Mountain Climber of Love. I should mention that I’m deathly afraid of heights.

No thanks. I think I’ll catch a cab.” Well, you did catch a cab, and then you caught syphilis.

I didn’t fire my gun. I gave it a promotion.

I want a house with a garage, so someone from the government won’t try to park a tank in my living room.

I had a dream about you. I ran a marathon like a mannequin stands still, and you stood still like Roger Bannister runs errands.

I’ll be your Dostoevsky, if you’ll be my Tolstoy. Our life together will be so full of despair that death will be like a gulag full of joy.

I’m thirsting for fame. I’m so fucking thirsty. Somebody bring me a tall glass of saltwater with a side order of desert.

I know a lot about forming personal connections with people. Not from, you know, personal interaction or anything, but from reading about it alone, in silence.

A brick is a polarizing object. Especially if you find it at either the North or the South Pole.

In the future, I’ll be furniture. Step on me now or sit on me later, but either way let me know how I can make you feel comfortable.

What has keys but can’t listen to the beauty it unlocks? A piano.

A blanket could be folded up and kept in the trunk of my car, in much the same way that I do with the Chinese gymnastics team before I chauffer them around town.

I’m so excited and lonely all at once. Just once. Not twice, because that’d be a couple, and couple’s can’t be lonely.

People don’t know I have a checkered past. I used to be a picnic table cloth.

A brick could be a columnist for the New York Times, and could even win a Nobel Prize. And why not? Is that any more absurd than both those things happening for Paul Krugman?

Politics is all about showing you have integrity—and hiding the fact that you really don’t have any.

I had a dream about you. A stadium full of children in glowing white robes were singing your name like little angels, and I wondered who you were to be deserving of such praise. Then...

To say that I grew up without parents is a lie, because I haven’t grown up yet. Also, all six of my potential parental candidates are still alive.

Everything I know about love came out of a vending machine. I’m still waiting on change.

Love is two unicorns arguing over which is better: one animal with two horns, like a bull, or two animals with one horn apiece. I guess it doesn’t matter, because you should never debate when...

His name was Chase, so of course I ran after him. I wasn’t stalking, I was giving name.

The only thing better than being productive, is being reproductive.

We made love, we drank coffee, and then we went our separate ways. I went west, and she went to hell. Or at least I hope she did.

Politics isn’t dirty. And neither are politicians. No, politicians are filthy.

Sure. But it might take me a few tries to get you pregnant.

Opportunity seldom rises with blood pressure.

It’s a conflict of interest, because I’m not interested.

Shaving a sheep is considered foreplay in some countries. But I don’t consider foreplay at all, not even before sex.

Black clothing makes me look skinnier. If I wear all black at night, and turn out the lights, I look so skinny that I disappear.

I’m always 15 minutes early for everything. In fact, I was born 15 minutes early. That’s why my love is always a bit premature. But don’t worry; just give our relationship a minute—plus fourteen more.

Boats should be shaped more like shoes. Better for dancing. The only thing I’m better at than dancing is making love, and grandmas all over Memphis say they haven’t seen moves like mine since after...

I covered up my mistakes—with dirt, like you’d do with any other dead bodies.

I prefer love songs to any other form of torture.

I had a dream about you. You made phone books for a living, and I filled up your pages by impregnating as many women as possible. You said I was a living saint, and I...

My grandpa died yesterday. I ought to know, because I shot him. So come, join me in the fight against patricide by killing your father’s father.

I knew I was in love because I had butterflies in my stomach. Also in there I had flowers, a few rainbows, and leftover unicorn from the bbq the day before.

We made love like flamingoes are pink. You know what else was pink? My cheeks, because I was so embarrassed when I found out that she was the wrong woman.

When I found him lying in the ditch holding a shovel, I thought he was sleeping on the job. Turns out he was being even lazier, and he was in fact dead.

I’m in danger of losing my job as official scribe to my inner voice.