If anger were money, only a fool would greedily save it up. And a wise man would let it slip out of his heart like change slips out of his pants pockets.

We made eyes at each other, and then we made love. We also made other things too, like meatloaf.

This presidential election will be as electric as an eel—and just as snakelike.

She doesn’t want me to leave, and she doesn’t want me to stay. That’s a double helping of Doesn’t Want Me, and one big I’m Not Hungry back at her.

I like make-up sex. I find cosmetics so erotic.

I like glad-handing, because I hate handshakes that are sad. That’s why I’d make a great politician—because I wouldn’t shake hands with a lobbyist.

I bought you a gift. It’s something I’ve always wanted, but I’m not quite sure you’ll like it. So if you don’t want it just tell me and I’ll be happy to keep it. After...

If I were a hermaphrodite, and someone told me to go fuck myself, I’d reply, “Why thank you. I think I will!

My brakes sound like my horn, and my car’s bumper is bumpy enough to be brail. My ideal reader would be a speed-reading blind politician I didn’t vote for.

The men responsible for this depression are irresponsible, and therefore only irresponsible people are responsible enough to get us out and reverse course.

I waste more time trying to save time than I would if I were merely inefficient. One woman told me I make love like a fish in the desert, and I believed her, because she...

I had a dream my house was on fire, and I tried to rescue all the cats—and none of the politicians. You can burn my house, but don’t you dare burn my coffee.

A man with nobody to love is like a stamped envelope with no address.

The word “sex” has no sex. It is androgynous and probably asexual. And even though I have sex (my sex is male), I have no sex, despite knowing willing females.

I say eek to Zeke Ekez, the imaginary palindrome politician of my dreams. He looks like me, talks like me, and thinks like me, but I won’t vote for him, because I always vote for...

When I’m in yoga class, and I’m in the Tree Pose, I always pretend I’m the Tree of Knowledge. To help further the fantasy I come to class with my yoga shorts stuffed with two...

We had sex by the fireplace. I remember because my waxy nipples started dripping on the carpet.

Sometimes I kick my cat. But I’m asleep, and he sleeps at the foot of my bed. It’s not like I kick it intentionally, like it was a politician.

Boxes of toilet paper make the best birthday presents. They really show I give a shit.

Bah, Alzheimer’s. The reason my grandma can’t remember anything is because she’s always thinking about dick.

Cages are good. My heart is in my rib cage, and love is in my heart. We should put more things in cages, like politicians.

My gift to you is not what’s in the box—it is the box. Happy Birthday!

We made love. With our hands. Then we sold it to cars stopped at the red light.

A politician is a person who trades promises for power, and then trades the people’s trust for personal gain.

I love like whole milk. Don’t give me your skim milk commitment.

I have the sex drive of a parked car.

Buy the town, and rent the politician. Politicians are refillable, like empty cups of coffee.

Her boyfriend can’t hold a candle to me. Especially not while I’m holding the strobe light. It’s hard to do modern dancing when you’re living like it’s 1882. Still, I make it look pretty easy.

Winter is nature’s way of sitting on the sofa and not doing a damn thing. When love grows cold, maybe it’s just impersonating January.

I shot a cactus like a politician. But I didn’t care, because I didn’t vote for it.

I don’t drink water, because if water can erode rock, think what it can do to flesh.

I’d like to wade through all the people named Wade in this city, and personally call all of them to congratulate them on their fabulous name.

Illinois makes silent noise. Loudoun County, however, has some of the highest decibel levels ever recorded by the Quiet Factory, since the political mouths in DC put them out of the whoopee cushion business.

It’s hot as a watermelon in this cantaloupe called pineapple. And that’s a fact.

If it’s dangerous, then you go first. If it’s pleasurable, then I’ll be brave and lead the charge.

What if those weren’t ear hairs, but cockroach antennas, and that’s why your grandpa loves listening to political rhetoric so much?

The commodity I sell is nonsense. Condiments sold separately. Ah, but that’s life, no?

Love with all your heart. And the rest of your body. Oh, and your mind, too.

This is my logo for Mike

I had a dream about you. You brought me coffee. I brought you misery. It was Starbucks’ coffee, so I thought it was a fair trade.

My heart is spinning. Love is a tornado. Will you be my Kansas?

I’m an artist. I’m a cave painter. Archaeologists and art critics of the future are going to call me a genius. They’re going to say I was so far ahead of my time that I...

When everything is working out for you, it means you are in the wrong gym.

A fridge will keep your steaks fresh, but keeping a live cow in grandmother’s room will keep the meat fresher. Let this be a lesson in love.

I would pull at my beard like a wise man, but I don’t have one—a beard (or a wise man). So instead I pull at my grandpa’s beard, as he purrs like a kitten.

My dad taught me everything I know about being a man, and most of what I know about being a woman. The rest I had to learn from textbooks.

If an actor’s neither talented nor handsome, what difference is there between him and any other waiter? That reminds me, my drink needs refilling.

I’m not just a guy’s guy. I also have a mom.

Most people like winners, but I prefer underdogs. They’re more fun to pet.

A father and son walked into a bar, and the bartender didn’t serve either because the one didn’t look old enough. And he was right. Who becomes a dad in middle school?