Words are all we’ve got. Besides, of course, actions. But you can’t print out and read actions. Actions also don’t carry ideas with the same ease as words.

I was able to preserve my integrity, in jars along with strawberries.

I had to be at work at 8 am this morning, so I set my alarm clock for 7:49. Naturally, my body woke my brain up at 1:11 precisely, and I laid in bed trying...

Men will tolerate what they are used to, even if it’s intolerance. That’s why I still drink milk, even though I’m lactose intolerant. Mamma didn’t raise no bigot.

If facial expressions had fur, then I’d snuggle your sneer. It’s so ugly it’s cute, like one of those little dogs, the kind Ryan Lilly has.

When I’m exhausted, I can sleep through anything. One time I slept though a wall—and there wasn’t even a door or opening.

In the future, man will travel on flying carpets, and shoes that float on water. And we’ll all make love together, as one, as one might masturbate today.

Broccoli, it’s what’s for breakfast. This morning let us make love like we’re both still asleep. I’ll hit the snooze if you find the lube.

Suicide is selfish. Don’t take your own life—take someone else’s.

Some people work to live, and other people live to work. Then some people, like me, are both unemployed and alive (at least at the time of this writing).

Your leftover meatloaf makes me horny. Let us make love like the first squirt from a new bottle of ketchup.

It’s my birthday, who could be calling me? Probably my clone, wondering why he hasn’t been born yet.

Last night at work, I was short people. I was two midgets and a mute.

I want to grow a tan and an accent, then dig it out of my garden and staple it to my naked body. I like Salmon Rushdie like a bear would. Especially with a honey...

There are days when I don’t know how I live with myself. Those days are Sundays through Saturdays.

My clone will have my mind, but I don’t mind. Two heads are better than one—especially when those two are one and the same.

I thought she was sexy until I noticed she had a beard.

The wind blew my words away from you. So while I told you I love you, the phrase was carried in the opposite direction and landed 333 miles away in the ears of a confused...

I’d like to see a flag made not out of stars and stripes, but rather fingers and knuckles, so that it could really wave in the wind. It would be the most welcoming flag in...

A brick could be used to tell how hard the wind is blowing. If the wind blows the brick around, I’d get out of there immediately.

I saw two lizards kissing yesterday, but I scared them off. Maybe I should have taken off my bird costume before peeping on them.

Tell me there’s a God, and I’ll believe you. But tell me you’re not in love with me, and I’ll shoot you an incredulous look. Then I’ll shoot you.

I like farm salmon. I like the idea of fish growing on trees.

New streets should be Twitter friendly and be named with hashtags up front. I’d build a house on ‪#‎LoversLane‬.

There is one woman I’ve dated I just can’t seem to forget, no matter how much I drink or how many concussions I give myself.

Rose is For Sale.” Prostitution or a grammatically incorrect flower shop, I’d like to enter both right about now.

I don’t like customer service, because I don’t believe the customer should have to pay and help out too.

I’m the sort of businessman who goes in to buy a lime, and comes out with a lemon. I’m shrewd like that. I’m the same with cars. If you ever need help buying a used...

If I’m going to write a book every American will want to read, it’s got to have lots of pictures. Those pictures must also move, and all the words in the book must be spoken...

I run like I walk—only slower. And I make love like a one-man circus show.

I’ll give you a glass of wine, if you give me a few drops of water from your eyes. I’m thirsty for your sadness.

A writer should be a recluse. Why share words with a few friends in the moment when they can be written down in solitude and shared with everybody at any time?

The goodbad news is she only stole half. The badgood news is she stole half. And when it’s love that’s been stolen, a hole the size of half your heart feels like the whole thing...

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

I meant to spend the day writing, but instead I spent the afternoon cleaning out my belly button. Historians will thank me one day.

Love lets us ride on its back as if it were a camel. But you’ve got to water it, or it won’t grow into a healthy rose bush.

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?

It’s easy to see what to do once it’s already been done. The difficult time is before it’s to be done, and while you’re doing it. This is the difference between writing and editing.

No need to get sexual with me.” I’m a bring my own elevator kind of lover anyway.

A Taste of the Gulag.”

I tried to raise my eyebrows in disbelief, but I forgot I’d packed away my eyebrows along with all my other winter clothing. My iced coffee was watery and warm with neglect.

I’m not waiting until my hair turns white to become patient and wise. Nope, I’m dyeing my hair tonight.

Finger food, is that food you eat with your fingers, or is that where you eat your fingers? I’m starving, but I also want to play the piano, so I need to know.

My farts smell like coffee. Drink them up. But slowly, because they’re hot.

Loyalty is for the dogs. Count me among the cats. And count me twice—once for each of my faces.

The Italians say ciao. The Chinese say Chow. And the Americans chow while they say stuff.

When a writer has deep thoughts, I expect him to also have a deep voice. And if he doesn’t, he should remain silent and let his writer’s voice do all the speaking for him.

I’ll see a cat and instinctively start petting the hair on my back.

Friendship is like putting butter on your socks before you slide them on. Sure, we all do it occasionally, but most of us would rather eat breakfast bare-handed at least once in a while.

While getting a haircut, I thought about my failed marriage. Instead of feeling bad, I thought I’d grow a beard, move to the mountains, and start over.