Orafoura paid me in pajamas, and I let him because the pajamas matched his plaid mustache.

I watch you while you sleep. Is that love? It would be, if I put down my binoculars, and you picked up your phone.

Cher and share alike. At least in sound. Most of the decisions I make are sound, exactly like Beethoven when he wrote and discarded his 10th symphony.

I don’t like to brag or frighten, but I’ve got a black belt. And a brown one, which I sometimes wear with black slacks.

If jellybeans came in a broader flavor base that included emotions too, I’d avoid the red ones, because they would taste like rage.

One word I’d use to describe space is lonely. The only way I’ll board a space shuttle is if I had a babysitter with me. You know, to watch the baby I’ll make with her.

I want to design sleeveless jackets for armless men. I’m still trying to work out how they would zip it up though.

I don’t want a home, but I do want to buy a lot that I like a lot.

I had a dream I took the form of Chuck Norris and kicked your ass. Then I impregnated you from across the room.

I enjoy scratching itches on my body with my beard stubble. The worst though is when my lower back itches.

With a phone to each ear, I’m efficient. One mouth, two ears, and two phones, I can talk to two people at once—and listen to neither.

I made love with a cute woman yesterday. I would have made love with a gorgeous woman, but she was more expensive.

A brick could be used to keep you three inches away from death.

She asked me if I had a light. I asked her if she was a wizard. She said no, so I felt safe in pulling out my pocket dragon.

A vibrating toothbrush is one hygienic marvel of a sex toy. The next time I want to make love, I’ll make a dentist appointment.

Backing yourself into a corner is a terrible strategy, in that it leaves you nowhere to run. But it’s brilliant in that it brings out the fierce in you, because you are forced to fight.

I am a slave to your love. Well, more like indentured servant.

I’m halfway to being a father. Not 4.5 months out of 9, but , of a mating ritual.

I want to invent a drug to help people get off drugs.

Love is snowy, like the raincloud I left in the freezer. I would ski on the slope of your kiss, but I’d be fearful of an avalanche.

I used to want to be a missionary, but I don’t believe that’d be the best position for me to be in.

I can’t tell my ass from a hole in the ground. Especially if that hole is hairy and emits foul odors.

I started a Thank You Club. You’re welcome.

I know sex sells. I also know gametes are sex cells. Her and I had chemistry together, and that’s just biology.

My coffee cup didn’t come with a sleeve, but that’s OK, because I’m wearing a tank top.

If you’re going to hit on me, please wear boxing gloves. I get it though, because when I’m dancing it looks like I’m fighting. In the face of violence, I’m just that gentle and sensual.

60% of children are born to unwed mothers. I should start pulling out.

Our relationship is getting serious. I now know she likes Karaoke. Next she’ll tell me she loves coffee. And then she’ll say she loves me—but not as much as she loves coffee.

For our first date we went Dutch. We would have gone another nationality, but they are the tallest.

Forget cloning. I can make people. It’s called sex, and it’s more fun than science.

I like my cakes nude, like I like wearing coats made of icing. I sweat hot coffee, so I wear cream deodorant. If you’re tired, you should lick my armpits.

I got stood up. I wasn’t mad, because at the time I was in a wheelchair.

Using my nipples as bait, I went fishing for compliments. I got a few bites, but nothing to write about in Field & Stream.

I eat east and west, and I eat them at the same time. But I drink my coffee north to south.

I met a girl today, and she wants to go out tonight. I’m like, What’s the rush? I’m thirty years old, and fate has made me wait three decades to meet you, so what’s another...

Dolly,” because not only is the Everyman a sheep, but he’s also a clone. They all think alike and act alike.

My new book is going well. It’s practically writing itself! Actually, what I mean is I’m not writing it, my clone is.

will be at noon.” I’d better write and mail all my love letters in my mannequin handwriting.

Everything good I have written about can be summed up in two words: Ryan Lilly.” That’s a real quote I read in a real book. Trust me, I’m a writer.

shit!

I visited Seven Sisters Inn, and all I got was a gun pulled on me. But that’s OK, because I brought a spare pair of underwear. Oddly, I didn’t find the man who stuck a...

I drank so much booze I was bamboozled. Alcohol makes my mind as discombobulated as love makes my heart. I’d sure appreciate it if you poured me a large glass of romance.

Ruby has eyes that sparkle like emeralds. Or sapphires. Not too sure what color her eyes are, because I try to avoid eye contact with murder suspects—especially if they are sexy.

I want to write the Boston Marathon of run-on sentences. And since it’ll be so long, I’ll replace all the commas with the word Gatorade, to help push people through it.

My attic is the size of a can of cat food, only filled with more meows and not as tasty. So you see, I have nowhere to store all my love but in your heart.

I’m wise when it comes to your issues, and a fool when it comes to mine. Emotion is the blindfold we cannot see or feel we’re wearing.

I’ve often wondered why more science textbooks don’t tell teenagers that the only thing sharks like to eat more than fish, are dead prostitutes.

I’m older now than my dad was when he was my age. Wait, that’s not right. That’s not my dad at all, that’s just some stranger hanging around in my memory.

As much as I would love to know what you know, I’d much rather eat your brain with a spoon.

Love is like a blanket: it will keep you warm, but it might also suffocate you. Also, it’s probably covered with cat hair—love, I mean.