I sometimes lie awake at night wishing I had all the answers. But I guess only God has all of them, while I only have one answer: I do. Now I just have to wait for the perfect question to use it on.
I painted my walls yellow, with melted butter, because I recently discovered that I had a popcorn ceiling. It’s this kind of reasoning that leads me to think I might make a great politician. Vote for me because hey, I can’t be worse than the othe...
If radios and microwaves merged, then the ideal pop song would be three minutes, or the length of time a bag of popcorn takes to finish popping. That’s about twice the length of my marriage, though in my defense the reason my marriage was so short ...
They should make suitcases shaped like human bodies, for discretely transporting dead cadavers. And I should get a friends and family discount.
I like TV shows that motivate me to want to improve my life, as I sit listless on the sofa hour after hour, night after night. My desire to self-actualize grows with my waistline. If I keep eating junk food alone on my couch, maybe my true love will ...
She said she loved me, and I didn’t believe it for a minute. Maybe 59 seconds, but not a whole minute. I may be gullible, but I’m not without an accurate way to measure time.
She doesn’t want me to leave, and she doesn’t want me to stay. That’s a double helping of Doesn’t Want Me, and one big I’m Not Hungry back at her.
Myth, mist, and mystery all add to the illusion of love. If you need me I’ll be by the fog machine wearing a tunic and writing an epic poem in Greek.
I feel like dancing. If I bring an extra wheelchair for you, would you like to join me?
75% of my life is spent wasting time. The other 25% isn’t nearly as productive.
Life goal: Swim in a lake full of soup, and instead of bathing suits we’ll wear Ziploc bags while we make love like we’re feeding the homeless.
This work is the link between my Dear Natalie piece and my upcoming Agatha work. It bridges that lapse in time and shows how my thinking has changed. It shows me telling a story through the surreal and trying to use thought fragments alone to show a ...
To let her imagine how great a lover I’d be, I ate soup with chopsticks. She went home with another man, but I’ll bet she fantasized about me.
You will know my power when you feel me compress you into a ball and bowl with you. I make love like I just rented these fabulous shoes.
The girl who did my oil change was so sexy that after she was done, I drove nonstop 2500 miles one way, just so I could immediately turn around and drive back with a reason to see her again.
To save the environment—and my childhood memories, I merged a gas station pump with a jukebox. Look, my car now runs on 80s music!
The Italians say “Chow.” To them it means “Bye,” but to me it means food. Of the greetings, goodbye is the desert.
I’ll sit on a soda and drink a sofa. It’s just healthier. You should see how I make love. Show starts at 8:00. Tickets are ten bucks at the window.
Abraham Lincoln wrote a poem about me once. You might know it as the Gettysburg Address. Men with beards are romantic.
I’ve forgotten if I’m a member of the Remember Club, but the memory of my love for her will never fade.
My love is heavy with ink, so I took it and transformed it into a poem for you. I would give it to you, but Grandma took it because I left it on the counter, and she mistook it for the grocery list.
