I’m writing” to sleep all the time.

I’ll wear a maze on a necklace, dangling over my chest, because if you want to get at my heart, you have to be ready to lose yourself.

I make love in the rain, alone, under an umbrella, because people in phone booths cannot be trusted. I hang my clothes up like I hang up a phone—long distance.

Drinking coffee is like chugging a galloping racehorse, and that’s why I’m wearing this baby carrier on my back—to hold the jockey.

I consider conversations with people to be mind exercises, but I don’t want to pull a muscle, so I stretch a lot. That’s why I’m constantly either rolling my eyes or yawning.

I opened a storefront with a 6’ ceiling. I did it for the low overhead.

I had a dream about you. You made the coffee and I made love to your sister. Everybody agrees: we need more cream.

I am a master of logic and a powerfully convincing debater. In fact, against my better judgment, I can talk myself out of doing anything.

I’m in the movie business. I tear ticket stubs.

If you can listen to or read anything, but misspelled words offend you, raise your hadn.

Cats are always there when you need them, asleep, telling you with their body language that they don’t need you.

A leap of faith doesn’t involve leg strength. Still, I can’t take any chances, so I’ve been doing squats.

I want to get married, but first I’ll have to get a divorce.

I wish there were a vending machine that served cats. Not to eat, but to pet during my work break.

I dance like I have a chip on my shoulder. I dance salsa.

Love is like a door knob that I’ve mistaken for a shower handle, and I’m trying to turn up the heat on our relationship, but the handle won’t turn and I’ve got shampoo in my...

I like to vote, but not be voted on. I don’t mind losing one on one, but to lose through a vote means the majority think I’m a loser.

When I go out to eat at restaurants, I don’t like chains. I prefer whips.

I thought it was a tree log, but it was just an erect elephant penis. But that didn’t stop me from trying to throw it on the campfire.

How would you define love to an eight-year-old aardvark from Argentina who hears angularly, rather than linearly? I don’t know, but let me check and see if Helen Keller wrote a dictionary that’s touchable, like...

My password is meatlover. My profile picture is a pizza. My love for you is real, like an invisible and inaudible mime parade.

If my penis gets enough water, could my erection grow long and straight like a pine tree? Come over next Tuesday to find out! Bring a friend, but not a lumberjack.

My love sits on the stove like a cat with an oven mitt for an ass.

Love, like hefty leftover stew, could be eaten with a spoon—or with some homeless guy I just met. I would offer you some, but we haven’t met yet. And whose fault is that? Oh yeah—yours.

I only sing in the shower. I would join a choir, but I don’t think my bathtub can hold that many people.

I think it would be neat to meet a man who slept with one eye open, especially if that man was a Cyclops.

I just ate at a new McDonald’s franchise, and it was great. Everything looked new, including the food. Apparently fast food will look new for years, sort of like plastic. I wonder if the toys...

I listen to AM radio in the AM, and AM radio for an AM audience in my PM (though it comes from the other side of the world). It’s all morning all the time for...

Time is such a waste of time to think about, because the longer you ponder it, the more of it you lose. And before you know it, you don’t know it, because you are nothing...

I notice your absence. I notice your non presence and reflect on the time you were present, in the present, which is obviously in the past.

I can always say no to a bottle of booze, but only after saying yes to the alcohol inside.

I just invented a hug machine. It’s solar powered so you can use it when you feel depressed, like on a cloudy day. Shit.

The only French I know is a kiss. I studied a lot of that foreign tongue in high school.

My car rides smooth like I’m driving a cloud. If I park it at your house, I may get rainwater on your living room carpet.

I’m not good at talking. Can’t I just nod my way through a conversation? It’s better than nodding off.

Beth We Steve I know you can Dave. I’m a lover, not a We’re Closed Until Further Notice kind of mannequin. Your donkey is my motorcycle of desire.

The picture is bad because the photographer was poor. I took the picture myself, and you can clearly tell I have no money.

The last 33 years of my life have been a blur, like a hummingbird’s beating wings. Time flies, but not backwards, like a hummingbird can.

Once the bar gets set too high, simply lower it so you can keep on hitting your goals. You could get a lot more chin-ups done this way.

I had a dream about you. You were guarding a bridge that I needed to cross. You asked if I had the proper paperwork, and I said I did, but I was just missing one...

There’s nothing funny about war. Well, aside from this joke Orafoura told me: What did WWI say to WWII? I wish I could tell you the punch line, but the restaurant was so noisy that...

We walked along the beach like two coffee lovers. But we weren’t. He was a fish, and I was astonished—not that a fish was walking, but that he didn’t love coffee.

I know how to handle a sword, a gun, and a kangaroo pouch stuffed with marshmallows. You should fear me.

I observe Stand Still Day. I also observe whatever I’m standing in front of at the time. I hope on that day I see how much you love me.

I both made the knife-fighting team, and I got cut. If only love were so easy to understand.

Earwax is nothing more than sound boogers. I’m too congested to hear anything but I love you. Not that I expect you to flick it at me lightly.

drimorious” not exist, but neither does an honest politician.

In complete silence you can’t hear a thing. Just ask a deaf person—but ask them with your fingers.

I think a cool war helmet is painted with red and white concentric circles, exactly like a bull’s eye. But I’m not a fighter—I’m a lover. That’s why I’m joining the military. I figure after...

Leave me with my leftover meatloaf and my Yesterday Sandwich. I’ll be in love tomorrow, if you come back with the ketchup.