A brick could be used to squiggle your signature with. And while you’re in the autographing mood, why don’t you sign your name at the bottom of the lunch bill.

My name is Mr. Brickton, and this brick, it weighs a ton.

A brick could be used like ice cream. But hold up, hold up. Let me put a bowl under it before you start licking, or else you’ll drip brick all over my blanket.

Like Alexander the Great and Caesar, I’m out to conquer the world. But first I have to stop at Walmart and pick up some supplies.

There’s urine on the couch, and the remote control is in the shower.” I would write it myself, but I’ve never been very good at writing love ballads.

A brick could be divided into four equal pieces and split among three friends. I’ll take the two largest pieces, or half, whichever makes me appear the most generous.

A brick could be put on the end of a scale, to determine if the other end of the scale holds a lie or the truth. (Hint: The truth is much heavier than a brick.)

Our love was soggy, like the biscuits I forgot to take out of the bathtub.

A blanket could be used to represent the Rectangle of Desire. In nine out of ten cases, it was more effective than Viagra. The tenth case was found to contain a lot of cash, and...

Sometimes something happens and you find that all the people you knew are like nothing and someone you never saw before will reach out a hand to help.

There’s no room for love in my life. My car trunk is already full of groceries, a spare tire, and two kidnap victims.

Love is missing your flight because you have a train to catch. I also have a football to catch.

My love is fountainesque. Is your body drinkable?

He met her because I didn’t show up that day and he went in my place. If they get married, I should be the best man. I am Invisible Cupid, so where’s my monument to...

I’d drink from a hose, but I wouldn’t drink from a horse. I have other ways of showing I love you.

I can tie a cherry stem into a knot with my tongue. Now, if only I could do the same with my shoelaces, I wouldn’t have to banana pudding my way to success.

fresh” chicken noodle soup through a 20-foot straw that runs from the basement up to the attic, where she found the soup.

A brick could be used to flavor your bathtub water, and raise the fluid level, so you perceive that you have more to drink.

If it’s the thought that counts, then ignorance must use a calculator

If a palmist grasp my palm, and look into it, without seeing a single line, what would he read?

Some people talk about screen kisses being strange or uncomfortable. But I think that I got along with Anna well enough that it just happened; it was a fun day of shooting.

It’s strange. How hollow i feel. Like there might be echoes inside of me. Like I’m one of those chocolate rabbits they used to sell around Easter, the ones that were nothing more than a...

This is a strange game.

A haunted house could be used like a Band-Aid to stop a bleeding brick. But why stop the bleeding? Stab it a few more times and then sell tickets to the spectacle.

A brick could be used to start your car, if your car’s keys are cube-shaped and huge. You know what else cube-shaped and huge? That’s right—my penis sheath.

A brick could be used to sell pepper to people in the salt mines. So while you’re busy selling pepper to the salty and sweaty workers, I’ll be selling them bottled water.

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

A blanket could be used to store valuable information that will keep future generations warm overnight. And just so you know, it wasn’t me that farted in the blanket. That’s a bit too much information,...

A brick could be used to teach men how to dance, by learning balance. But a blanket could also teach men how to dance, by providing motivation to get good so they can get some...

A brick and a blanket aptly describe my former roommate. He was as dumb as a brick, and only highly functional on a bed. Or so I heard—not that I’d know from personal experience.

Mr. Pot drank ten pots of coffee, even though I only made eight. That’s a savings of 20%!

A brick could be used to help you keep your job. Just hold it down, man.

A blanket could be used to fill in the blank.

Life, in my estimation, is a biological misadventure that we terminate on the shoulders of six strange men whose only objective is to make a hole in one with you.

A brick could be used as a scapegoat. But don’t blame the brick. The brick didn’t kill my mother-in-law. It was merely the instrument I utilized in showing her how much I loved her.

A brick could be pet, like a dog, and taught to shit in my neighbor’s yard.

Every friend was once a stranger and if you know this, you have to understand that conversations are the beginning of connection

I was nervous. Like an ice cube, I just froze up. Then I melted in some strange guy’s drink.

I’d rather have nobody to say anything to, than have nothing to say to anybody.

A blanket isn’t the solution, a blanket is the problem. I say we burn all the blankets, along with the bodies of the unbelievers.

Sorry, we don’t serve rigid nonthinkers here.” So the brick and the pastor look at the politician, who turns around and leaves.

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 think I have a strange relationship with time. I’m not really aware of that time passing. I don’t feel that I’m wasteful with time. But I’m not aware of it passing.

The surrealists, and the modern movement in painting as a whole, seemed to offer a key to the strange postwar world with its threat of nuclear war. The dislocations and ambiguities, in cubism and abstract...

I’ll write The Art Of Love, which will be tactical, like The Art Of War.

If you don’t learn how to drown, you won’t learn how to love.

My love smells like an empty mayonnaise jar. It ought to, because that’s where I store it. Coincidentally, my love also looks and tastes like mayonnaise.

A few years ago I dropped off the face of the earth. Then I came back the next day to pick it up. Unfortunately, it was stained red with love.

My love is a flower. If you’d call that romantic, I’d agree and say it would look great on your grave.

A blanket could be used to help frowners smile. I’m only halfway through the process myself, which is why I’m smirking.