What if leaves changed shape as well as color? You can teach a man to fish, or you can introduce him to a woman named Fish who happens to look like a trout.
The only time I like traffic lights turning yellow or red is in the fall.
If I wouldn’t have looked under the hood, I’d have never noticed the problem. But as far as I know, the problem didn’t exist before I opened the hood. So did I cause the problem by becoming aware of it, or was it already there regardless of my ...
Awesome is a substance I sell in times of peace. And despair. It’s slippery and smells like freedom, so do not attempt to apply it anally. That advice is mostly directed at politicians.
My life was unbalanced. That is, until I found love and grew a second leg.
I've been able to sleep with my eyes open ever since I started watching baseball.
Growing up, I used to use and apple instead of a baseball. It was just more fun to hit, and a healthier and better tasting snack than America’s favorite pastime.
I’m trying to cover all my bases so I can be a complete baseball nonplayer. I’ve already not bought a bat, a glove, and a bed to sleep on.
While I’m no Major League Baseball prospect, I have thrown a few no-hitters in my day. And not only were there no hitters, there was also nobody there to catch.
In a battle, an army of farts would surely beat an army of noses, even if those noses were armed with fingers that could flick long-range boogers.
Know yourself better than your opponent knows you, know your opponent better than he knows himself, know yourself better than you know your opponent, and know you have all this knowledge and you will be victorious. That’s the advice I’ll give my ...
I’m itching for battle—with a mosquito bite. The only thing in life I’ll scratch at more is the need to be loved. I’m so bloody needy.
I don’t want my love with her to wither like grapes on a vine, so I’ll water it with romance to turn it into wine.
For being so ugly, I think God should reward me handsomely. He should give me the tender hands of a lover—and not those of a self-lover.
Her name was Penny, and she was good looking. She wasn’t a dime, but she wasn’t a nickel either. If there were a coin worth 7.5 cents, she’d be that. And I’d be the vending machine that accepts those coins.
Beauty is beautiful. That’s the beauty of beauty.
She was a tall drink of water, and I was a glass half full kind of guy—half full of lust. Actually, my glass was half full of Kool-Aid powder, which is why I lusted for her.
Where was I last night? I don’t remember myself. I mean I remember me—I didn’t suffer from an out-of-body experience—but I myself don’t remember. I remember being there, but not where there was, or being a being—I just was—I was simply ...
