A blanket could be used to help acclimate your body for your after death experience. Hell is hot, so you’d better warm up first.
A brick could be used to illustrate your innocence. I can help you with that, because I brought a crayon.
A brick could be used as a paperweight, for people whose writing isn’t as dense or weighty as mine.
A brick could be used to crush the Fruit of Desire and make the Juice of Destiny. Drink it before I lose my erection.
A blanket could be used to warm the hearts of all the nonbelievers. We are all nonbelievers, because nobody believes in everything.
A brick could be used to simulate a war opponent. Especially if your nemesis is paraplegic and without transportation.
A blanket could be used to tell you I love you. You know I do. And I’m not just saying that because I’m shivering.
A brick could be used to instill courage in the cowardly. But training must begin at birth, and the weak identified while they are still hiding in the womb.
A blanket could be used to say hello to all the goodbyes I’ll never see again. Keep it wrapped tight, because every bye should be covered in darkness.
A brick could be used to replace a flat tire. After all, you want to replace like with like, and what’s more flat than a brick?
A blanket could be used to protect your heart from heartbreak. Keep your heart warm, because if your heart grows as cold as ice, it’s much more likely to shatter.
A brick could be used as a sex toy. Well, I say sex toy, but the politician strapped to the bed would probably say torture device.
A blanket could be used to stop the bleeding. But dammit you’re going to have to hurry, before I bleed out all over the carpet.
A brick could be used to help you become the next Great American Novelist. Hopefully after you use it to crack your own skull, and not too long after your death, the public will realize your genius and celebrate the greatness that was you.
A brick could be used to prop up a wobbly table—or an unstable relationship. I wish I’d have thought of that before I got divorced.
A brick could be used as a cape, when I’m practicing my anti-superhero drills in Grandmother’s basement and defying her wishes to drink her “fresh” chicken noodle soup through a 20-foot straw that runs from the basement up to the attic, where...
A blanket could be used to stop a train. Another good thing to use would be brakes. I’ll sell you a set of train breaks for the price of a warm night’s sleep.
A brick could be used to create a new society, a perfect society, where there is no inequality, there are no laws, and most importantly, there are no people.
A brick could be used to replace the brother you never had. Well, it’s only a possibility, but you probably won’t like it, because as soon as your parents gain another child, you’ll quickly find out that you were only their favorite child becau...
A brick could be used to unite two long-lost brothers. They’ve been apart for six inches, and that’s entirely too long, and I think it’d be good to bring them back together.
A brick could be used to make love better. Faster isn’t always better. Don’t you want to make love better?
