One of the side effects of Viagra is blurred vision. Sounds great! When I’m taking a pill to pop a stiffy, how great is it that any woman I look at has blurred features and therefore is as beautiful as an impressionistic painting?
A car crash could be considered art, and I’d like to install one in a museum. Helmets would be sold at the admission booth.
It’s not enough to be the best. You also have to be seen by the most. A masterpiece painting hanging in the storage unit of the artist who painted it is not art—it’s irrelevant. It’s also a tragedy.
She told me to draw the curtains shut, so I grabbed my pencil and began to sketch.
After I’m famous, I want my statue to be made out of beige Jell-O, and I want to be portrayed naked, so my genitals jiggle in the wind.
He said he thinks he’s God, and I said, In that case, I’m an atheist.
Life seems so am/pm. But really it’s not as balanced as all that.
I can throw an orange like a baseball, but I can’t eat a baseball like an orange. Let that be a life lesson for you.
I was once in a battle trying to fight my way out when I realized it’s better to sneak out.
The beautiful part about killing someone with an icicle is the murder weapon melts and then evaporates. And your assassination can be fruit flavored!
Since the day I was born, I’ve spent my time being a human being, and I regard this as a good decision. But not a great one.
Just because I flap my arms, that doesn’t make me a bird. No, I’m a bird because I believe myself to be. That’s the power of faith.
The best part about teamwork, is me collecting all the prize money. Hey, that’s what captains are for, right?
Clones: Why should you take the blame for your mistakes when there’s a genetic replica of yourself that’d make a perfectly good scapegoat?
My writing, it’s all I have. Well, aside from my health. And shelter, food, and clothing. Oh, and my cat.
Life: Don’t count the minutes, count your blessings.
I’d use my shadow as a blanket, but it’s too cold. It’s a shame, because it’d fit snuggly over my body.
If zombies eat brains, then they’d love me, because who doesn’t like a buffet?
My brain is an amazing machine. Too bad I can’t take credit for it. As brilliant as I am, think how profound the Designer that created me is.
I opened a storefront with a 6’ ceiling. I did it for the low overhead.
The profit was five, split evenly between the two of us, which meant that my fair share was three. (2.5 rounded off is 3.)
