There’s nothing special about politicians as people. Now as animals, they’d be extraordinary for their ability to be intelligent enough (barely) to be potty trained.

I don’t want to adopt your ideas, I want to give birth to them.

I unstrapped her bra like I’d unstrap a seat belt, and for the same reason—to live dangerously. And to exit the vehicle.

Have a great night.” Plus, he was as blind as Helen Keller was deaf, so to him day was night.

Our love is secret, like the location of the lost Templar Treasure. Quick, grab a shovel and help me look for it.

We made love like two coiled up fire hoses. When there’s no fire in the romance, why not act like a couple of sleeping snakes?

I threw out my sausage, and replaced it with a healthier penis metaphor, like a cucumber.

One day I’ll have my appointment with death, and every day I call out to God to see if I can reschedule for a later date.

No decision has been made,” it’s a lie—because I have decided to remain undecided.

Jarod Kintz Day—it’s not just my birthday, but it should be a holiday that’s mandatory to celebrate, punishable by death if you don’t. It’ll be a holiday that honors freedom.

Three people are interviewing for a job. The first thinks his odds are 33.3 percent of landing the job. The second guy, so sure of himself, thinks his odds are 100 percent. The third guy,...

People say, How could God allow helpless children to die? While I look around the world and see corruption, pollution, filth, lies, deception, poverty, and heartache, and I say, Gee, how come I wasn’t lucky...

I make my own luck, and I make it in a pot. Then I bring it to potlucks.

Some people sleep their lives away. But I also want to sleep death away. If I sleep long enough, maybe death will think I’m already dead and pass me by.

I’ll buy your product and then return your product, and tell you to keep my money, so it feels more like a business transaction, rather than charity, which induces feelings of indebtedness on the end...

I think it would be funny to dye somebody’s pool red and then throw dead fish in it. And before you run out of there, you could leave a stone tablet with these words etched...

Too many people talk about the weather, and not enough people talk about agriculture. When somebody says to me, “Beautiful weather we’re having,” I always reply, “Irrigation and crop rotation.

A stick won’t stick to a wall, so why is it called a stick? Likewise, why aren’t love and ghost the same word? Both are dead and invisible.

I don’t know where, but I know how and why. Two out of three out of six ain’t bad.

Dead men’s fingernails make lovely shallow-grave shovels.

I talked so much about my product that I sold myself. I bought the very thing I was selling, and I think I overpaid.

After my first coaching experience, the field looked more like Gettysburg than a normal defeat. But it wasn’t that bad, as only about half my team lay dead, while the rest were merely dying.

I need love. Here’s a list of other things I need: eggs, butter, flour, and sugar. I’m making a cake for the woman I love—and another one for my lover.

It’s a new subject to me, and I’m just starting to get confused. The middle is the muddle, and the end is enlightenment. The subject is love, and the end is death.

I like to keep a shotgun in my room for protection. You know, just in case my apartment gets broken into by a pack of deer, which is something I’m constantly worrying about.

When love dissipates, it’s like dancing with daisies at midnight, and you don’t get easy at it when you’re deceased. And make no mistake, you will die before romance will.

And out came an insult with the velocity of a whisper. But I could see I offended, so I zipped up my pants and left the wedding reception.

Funerals, Coffins, and Death. It’s not just a way of life; it’s also for breakfast. Yes, that is the new cereal I’m preparing to launch. Don’t mix it with milk. Pour it on formaldehyde.

If I knew what you’d do, exactly when you knew what you’d do, then I’d either be you or I’d be God. And we both know I’m not you.

I talk about talking like I listen to listening—in a room with mirrored walls that makes me appreciate the infinity that is God.

Who art thou, Art? Do you make art the way I make love—with a paintbrush?

I wonder if rooms in an insane asylum have Do Not Disturb signs for the doors. I should hope not, because knock or no knock, every occupant in those rooms is already disturbed.

I had sex with a statue a few months ago. The sex was so still that I’m still wearing the condom.

I like my relationships like I like my eggs. Over easy.

My dreams have wings. But not soaring eagle wings, more like the wings of a butterfly—colorful and easily ripped off. The last time my dreams got ripped off was when I shopped at Walmart, the...

I want to be happy and sad at the same time. Yeah, I know it sounds sappy.

01210 is a pyramid, & worms move like handicapped snakes. My dream belongs in a wheelchair, because I just spilled coffee all over my sleep.

I just designed the world’s most inefficient no. It’s modeled after a downward sloping maybe.

A brick could be used as a trophy at your company’s annual award ceremony. It’s a way to save money while making pride and applause at the same time.

No thanks. I think I’ll catch a cab.” Well, you did catch a cab, and then you caught syphilis.

Hungry and thirsty? Soup solves both problems at once. My love for you is starved and dehydrated, and all I need is one spoon.

A brick could be used to help define your rigid beliefs. I put my beliefs to bed, along with the hooker I rented for the night.

I had a dream about you. I ran a marathon like a mannequin stands still, and you stood still like Roger Bannister runs errands.

You will love me or I will sentence you to life in prison.

A brick could be used in a heart transplant operation. And for just $25,000 more dollars, that brick could be switched with a real or artificial heart.

I know a lot about forming personal connections with people. Not from, you know, personal interaction or anything, but from reading about it alone, in silence.

I’ll tell you what I can do, but I’ll tell you silently and invisibly, because honestly, there’s nothing I can do. And what I can do is love you.

A brick could be crushed into powder, like cocaine, and snorted to stimulate the previous highs of the housing market.

What has keys but can’t listen to the beauty it unlocks? A piano.

My wife loves me for me, and hates me for her.