I had a dream about you. We were debating the nature of love, and you said it was invisible, and I said it was the color of gold. You accused me of being a banker,...

Pride must be a summer thing, because it “comes before the fall.

Love is a four-letter word. So is glue, only it isn’t as sticky. And I must admit, I still eat it all the time.

I had a dream about you. You were sitting in a dentist’s chair, and I was cleaning your teeth. You wondered if I was a dentist, and I wondered why more people didn’t brush their...

Cut to the chase.” When I’m exasperated with all the verbal running around and skirting the issue, the last thing I want is more chasing. Let’s cut to the caught.

I’ve got a great body. It’s got four wheels under it and I drive it to work. I would give you a ride to work, but what am I, a camel? No, I’m the Love...

I had a dream about you. You were riding a walrus like a cowboy, and I was riding a cowboy like a cowboy. I waved at you, and you waved your lasso over your head....

She didn’t say it, I only thought she said it. So really it was my thought, my words, and not hers. How could I confuse “I love you” with “May I take your order?

She had sexy legs. They were attached to her torso. Or maybe those were her arms.

The Cloud”, because honestly, reading and rainy days go together like peanut butter and umbrellas.

It’s true, I can’t make you love me. But I can refuse to let you out of your cage.

There’s nothing I like better than a beautiful sunset. Except maybe a gorgeous sunrise. And a naked woman painted pink and orange floating through the sky.

She didn’t have the body of the supermodel. But that’s OK, because she didn’t have the face of one either.

Two become one when two are in love—or when the waitress asks about our dinner bill. I’ll pay next time, I promise.

When I think about all the thinking I’ve done, I get sleepy, like a coffee-colored bear.

We made love like a flag draped over the coffin of a soldier. But that soldier, he fought for that flag’s enemy—he fought for the innocent people living under the shadow of that flag.

If love were a dolphin with wings and a unicorn’s horn, being ridden by a blind leprechaun dressed like Rasputin, would you believe in second chances for love at first sight?

All the ideas in the universe can be described by words. Therefore, if you simply take all the words and rearrange them randomly enough times, you’re bound to hit upon at least a few great...

The outer bands of the tropical storm didn’t play as good of music as the inner bands near the eye did.

I had a dream about you. I said green was blue and yellow, and you said green was yellow and blue. You were like that with everything I said, taking the exact opposite stance, yet...

Most writers might as well write in invisible ink, because if what they’re writing is forgettable, it might as well be invisible too.

My wife loves window shopping. As for me, I’m more into curtains.

I love you” the whole way, but you couldn’t hear me, probably because that man you were with was talking the whole time.

I wouldn’t read Jarod’s writing—not even if he paid me to read it. And he does pay me to read his writing, but that doesn’t mean I do.” Of course the quote continued on, but...

In bed, I could climb in, if you ever rest. Then I could mount you like Everest.

Poison Ivy tastes like an itch when you have it on your tongue, and I’d say that love tastes the same, only itchier.

A high five is a two-person applause. Me and my clone will be excited to clap for you after we present you with the Julius Caesar Author of the Year Award. Keep up the great...

If you replace the letter “s” with the letter “x,” you can make a lot of plural words naughty. For example, “fences” would become “fencex,” and I’d say good fencex makes good neighbors.

I found love in the arms of another woman. Who needs two legs, a torso, or talking?

A picture is worth a thousand words, but is 400% less valuable, because a picture only captures one of the senses—sight. However, words can describe the other four senses, making writing four times more potent...

I can’t sell sex for money, but what if I change sex’s name to food? Then can I sell it freely in the street?

I keep my love in the trunk. And I drive slowly over speed bumps, so she doesn’t bump her head around.

When there are 16 ounces of coffee to be shared by two strangers, and only one 8-ounce cup between them, then one man must give up his coffee, and the other must formulate an alibi.

I would have sex in the backseat of my car, but from back there, how would I be able to hit the brakes? Or steer the vehicle?

You know what I like most about people? Pets.

All Quiet on the Western Front.

My bed’s comforter is yellow. It has to be to hide all the melted butter stains. I make love like microwave popcorn—only in half the time!

I went on a road trip with my cat, Cap’n. I would have let him drive, but he was drunk.

boo” in book.

Life goal: Swim in a lake full of soup, and instead of bathing suits we’ll wear Ziploc bags while we make love like we’re feeding the homeless.

Cats are like mushrooms, only you’ll rarely ever hear me scream, “Get off my pizza!” to a pack of mushrooms.

I had a dream about you. You wore a cowboy boot, and I wore a better fitting hat. You were in a white dress, like a wedding dress, only weddinger. I was wearing a twisted...

We made love like two tree branches in winter. We were naked and motionless.

One thing I often get carried away with is piggyback rides.

I cry when I think of all the tissues I’ve used over the years and all the trees I’ve killed. The more tears I cry, the more trees I kill, which causes me to cry...

I love coffee like I love making love. It’s like liquid sex, except you don’t want to spill it all over your crotch.

The kitten I got is black and white and has long hair. Really long hair (think Willie Nelson). I decided to call him Cap’n because his markings make him look like a pirate. The majority...

I had a dream about you. I was a professor, and you were my student. I taught sex education for college freshmen, and I didn’t think it unethical to trade good grades for sexual favors....

She asked if I wanted to spoon with her, and I told her I didn’t want to stir things up.

I’ve found newspapers only useful as kindling material for campfires. It’s been said that newspaper articles are written at a fifth grade reading level. If so, I can’t figure out why journalists would write something...