I built a Name Machine. It’s a vending machine that dispenses monikers. For 50 cents, now you can be called Don G. Lover, just like your mom.
I haven’t trusted my car since I bought a horse. I just can’t talk to my car like I can Mr. Needles. Cowboys make better lovers. Or so I hear—not that I’d know from personal experience.
I could be the best lover you’ll ever have. Maybe not the best in bed, but I could be the best conversationalist. It’s called “pillow talk” for a reason, because most men fall asleep right after sex, leaving the pillow as the only thing a wom...
2 out of 4 numbers prefer being in the bottom 50 percent. Half of all lovers also prefer being on the bottom.
I’ve decided I like making love on rainy days. Ever since she asked me to wear a raincoat.
I think a cool war helmet is painted with red and white concentric circles, exactly like a bull’s eye. But I’m not a fighter—I’m a lover. That’s why I’m joining the military. I figure after well over a decade of continuous war, all they d...
I am a fisherman, a hunter, and a lover. A lover of men, not animals. And by men I mean women.
I want to buy designer sunglasses and change my name to The Lunar Child III. It would make me a better lover, but it's impossible for me to be a better lover than I already am, as I’m beyond the sensual, like Helen Keller.
You like vodka, and I like carpet cleaner. You should try it. It’ll put hair on your chest—really clean hair. Grandpa said it would make me a better lover, but I made me a better lover—and I made it out of clay.
I love petting trees. Especially if they are fir trees. Single lovers should be good with their hands. I admire Bigfoot.
I am fun, friendly, and I know how to use the third comma in a list of three distinct items or things. In my book that makes me a better lover, because I wrote it. The book, I wrote the book, so of course I’d make myself a better lover.
I’ve long suspected myself of being a suspicious person. But that’s OK, because suspicious people make better lovers, right?
I want to buy “A Touch of Gray,” because I’d look more distinguished with a touch of gray in my hair. Also, geriatrics make better lovers.
The man who pulled my winning raffle ticket out of the hat said I was one lucky guy. I guess he didn’t see me standing next to my clone, so I replied, “I am two lucky guys.
I’m not a firefighter—I’m a firefly fighter. My bravery may come in small flashes, but I am sure it doesn’t go unnoticed by lustful women and campers everywhere.
The doors magically opened without the assistance of modern electronic devices. Instead, they cleverly employed doormen.
If a magic genie, from a lamp, offered me three wishes, I'd use one to wish you a happy birthday. So 33 percent would be spent in your celebration. I only offer that statistic so you don't think me chintzy when you find this card void of cash.
If anybody ever tells me to face them like a man, I’ll get offended, because my face can’t grow a beard.
