A brick could be used to describe somebody hard and inflexible, and a blanket could be used to describe somebody warm and easygoing.

I shave my face like a car. I speed through car washes, but I brake for love.

I want to write a book called, “Ten Steps to Asexuality.” Of course, I recommend all those steps be taken in Birkenstock sandals.

The great thing about being a government is you can wage nonsensical wars, and people will line up to give their lives in exchange for small paychecks and being called patriots.

If you make a nickel a second, you can’t afford to pick up a penny off the ground. It’s the same with love.

You’re already older than the last time I saw you, and I just saw you right before I blinked.

I asked what year the car was that was sitting in the driveway, but what I meant was how long had it been parked there. If it’s been there since 1982, I’ve been in love...

I know how to tell a woman I love her in seventeen syllables or less. I’m not talking about a haiku, I’m talking about grunts from an orgasm.

Scoop out my soul with a spoon like it’s a cantaloupe, and I’ll tell you that love is breakfast. And I’d love to make breakfast to Agatha one more time.

Dear cat, your ears are flipped inside out, so I know you’re not listening to a word I’m not saying.

Our time together was a blur—not because I was drunk, which I was, but because our love was like the beating of a hummingbird’s wings.

He was a man I came to respect. Not because he wore Ziploc bags for socks (he had sweaty feet), but because he also kept his sandwiches warming there while he walked.

Love is nebulous, like my idea of what the word nebulous even means.

Who wants to be the unsung heroes of my voiceless choir quartet? We’re the Helen Kellers, and I’m holding auditions with oven mitts, because they’re sure to be hot.

Love is a bird’s nest of emotion that I used as a basket to store picnic items like apples, cheese, wine, and finger foods like thumbs and pinkies.

We should kill the future, so the present has no choice but to retreat into the past.

I eat footballs, and I shit touchdowns. And I always wear a helmet when I make love.

I’ve wrestled an alligator before. It wasn’t alive, but I still pinned it down. I was trying to impress a woman, and I bet I did, because she went home with another man—but she was...

My impression of love: I found her—lucky me. I found her—unlucky her. She’d probably agree with me, which would be a first.

My boxers should require batteries, because I’m such an exceptional lover that pizza delivery people call me for carry out. 30 minutes or less—as if!

Mannequin Love.

I water my driveway, and I drive a hard bargain to work (it gets great gas mileage).

We have a love so pure that it makes snow seem yellow. (Don’t eat it!)

Pele popularized the bicycle kick, and I created the unicycle kick. It’s like the bicycle kick, only it requires more balance and one less wheel.

Reverse psychology, I do it in front of the mirror.

He’s going to give me a piggyback ride home. He’s my designated walker.

The salesman said the sale was happening because all the gizmos in the store had to be liquidated. It was a lot of solidfluid, and I would have bought something, but the only thing I...

Today I am in love. Today is Tuesday, although the day of the week has no influence or impact on the fact that I’m in love. It could be Monday and I’d still be in...

The mascot for the New York Mets should be a handshake. But first, let me wash my hands.

I turned on my faucet, and out slithered a clear garden snake. It was too cold to shave with, so I grew out a beard and patch of broccoli. Sometimes my love is liquid, and...

I believe I believe I can succeed, and this belief is the foundation for my belief.

I want to name my son Justin Case. You know, just in case.

If I get famous, I’d seek employment in a wax museum—as a candle. If you fire me, make sure you blow me out before singing Happy Birthday.

Love is a cat wearing a fur coat in a sauna in the middle of the Sahara Desert at noon. Trust me, I speak from personal experience.

A Toyota is not a toy. At least not a sex toy. However, my driving is both erratic and erotic. Tickets are ten dollars per passenger. Senior citizen discounts not available.

Instead of fur, how about a pet with grass, so I could mow my pet. Unlike now, where all I do is cuddle with a piece of sod.

I’d give up three days just to get three hours with the woman I love. Of course this instinct is the reason why my investment decisions always look so great—for the people on the other...

When you meet me, the first thing you’ll notice is I have a firm handshake. The second thing you’ll notice is that I’m wearing oven mitts. I like my introductions hot, like my iced coffee.

My response landed me in hot water. A dirty dish also landed in hot water. If I weren’t such a raging feminist, maybe I’d buy a dishwater instead of scrubbing them all by hand.

It’s sad to see a restaurant go out of business because the owner died, after being cannibalized by hungry customers.

All the letters from A to Z couldn’t express what you mean to me. Not without cloning them and using some over and over

Love is like a door—it’s either open or closed. Either that or it’s both—open to others, but closed to you.

I spend a lot of time trying to not be me. So much so that I have become who I’m not.

I planted the seed in her imagination, and then I farmed it. Like a fisherman.

She forgot my name, so either I’m not important or she has amnesia. I wonder how long she’s suffered from dementia.

There is nothing more romantic than candles and flowers, except candles that smell like flowers and flowers that can be burned, as they flicker light while you dine alone and ponder how much of a...

It’s 3:32, and I need just one more ingredient to finish baking 3:33. Would you prefer the AM or the PM piece?

All I need is your love. And money.

My name is Sam (my name is Am), and I am my own fan. I’m a clone of Jarod Kintz, and he supports my message.

A Taste of the Gulag.”