If I had all the money in the world, I’d love seeing my name on billboards, buildings, and battleships. The only thing I wouldn’t like seeing my name on would be a credit card. Especially not while I am spending it.
If I earn 10 dollars, I’m saving 11 of them.
There’s money to be made with a name like Cash. I should print myself into popularity.
My clones will look like me, and therefore I’ll treat them like myself—starting with spending all their hard-earned money. You can’t love someone else if you can’t first love yourself.
If I worked at a Laundromat, I’d steal money, and if I worked at a bank, I’d steal clothes.
My zip code is my salary. Too bad I live in 32256 and not 90210. Also, I lied—but only because the zip code 00000 does not exist.
I gave her all my love, because it was cheaper than giving her all my money. Now I’m in debt, and now I’m in debt. She had too much interest in me.
She asked for all my love, and I said, “Sure, let me just go to the nearest ATM.” I wonder if she knows it’s all fake and inflated.
The Nike Swoosh looks like a crowbar used to pry apart tight wallets. In other words, it looks like a politician’s smile.
I’m two quarters the way to having 50 cents. That’s right, I have one quarter. But I’m also one quarter in love, and I feel rich!
I don’t understand why you don’t trust me. It’s not like you have a reason to not trust me. So, lend me some money, and let me give you the reason you were looking for to not trust me. Wouldn’t you rather be proved right than not lose money?
I admire from a distance. Too close and the flaws form a craterous landscape and the charm is lost. Who do you think I am, Neil Armstrong?
I rearranged the letters of the word “neologism” to make the word neologism itself a neologism, as well as an anagram. The new word I made? It happens to be the name of the spaceship I’m building: Moon Legs I.
At five in the morning, I was half asleep. The whole left side of my body was taking a nap. Seems I’m also always half in love, from my waist down.
My day starts like a regular guy’s. I wake up, drink raw eggs, run around Philadelphia, and punch raw slabs of meat. Wait, that’s not my story—that’s Rocky’s. I get us confused all the time.
One evening we made love all morning.
You've got to get up pretty early in the morning to beat me to my rooster costume.
I don’t like breakfast, because I like things fixed and slow. Let’s just take our relationship morning by morning.
He told me he had a wife and daughter, and then he showed me a picture of an 8-year-old girl, to which I said, “Don’t you think she’s a bit too young to be a wife and mother?” Fucking pedophiles.
Don’t kill animals! Kill people who kill animals! Those animals must understand that murder will not be tolerated! Also, the animals must understand that murder will not be tolerated!
If you’re thinking about killing someone, don’t. Not don’t kill them, but don’t think about it—just do it already.
