When you’re on your deathbed, you won’t regret not having spent more time cleaning. Buy brown carpet, to camouflage the coffee stains.
I treat strangers like friends, friends like family, and family like strangers. And I make love like a cup of coffee that likes a cup of tea.
I went on vacation and it rained like coffee drip brewing. It must have rained several inches, and all in a concentrated area about the size of a coffee pot.
I made dinner reservations for two, because I like eating alone. And I drink coffee by the bathtubful—but only while simultaneously taking a shower.
If I were handicapped, I’d travel by horse. Well, that’s assuming my wheelchair would be stable on the horse’s back. I’d be a coffee addict and porn historian.
Growing up I was so poor I wore coffee cups as shoes. The good part was my feet never fell asleep.
If you’re ever in a ghost town, it’s only appropriate to visit the cemetery. Also, ever thought that coffee’s steam is the rising soul of your dead sleep?
I drank the coffee because I was tired. I also drank the coffee because I was dominant, and it was passive and put up no fight.
Love is a lot like coffee, I once thought as I suckled on a milky nipple. But I was one at the time, so what did I know about coffee?
I couldn’t throw a basketball through a hula-hoop, but I could drink coffee through a fishing net. But why do that when I’d rather fish with a thermos?
I need my tropical square boots, and a fish that when it swims looks like my squiggly signature. Also, I could go for a cup of coffee.
Make time to make love. Then, after you’ve finished making love, make some coffee while I just lie in bed and quiver.
The smell of coffee was enough to wake up my neighbors. In a display of gratitude, they complained about my music being too loud.
I tried to wear my shirt while it was still on the hanger. That’s just the kind of morning person I am with no coffee.
One cup contains Starbucks coffee, and one holds diarrhea. But which is which? Drink it, and the one that doesn’t make you vomit is the diarrhea.
I should make a tongue condom shaped like an oven mitt, so my mouth’s spoken language muscle is protected from hot coffee.
I drink coffee like other men play basketball. I drink like a woman, and that’s why I use a slightly smaller ball.
In exchange for my silence, I want a box of quiet. Empty—and full. That’s also how I like my morning coffee at night.
If I were deaf, I’d wear loud clothing. My clothes would also be covered in coffee stains, because Helen Keller is my hero.
The world beyond the water was a blue of green and stone and blue. A moment later Yoshi pushed through, the water pouring down in sheets so smooth it looked like glass, and stepped into the calm [p. 296]
Money is for doing things, my love. Don't sit on it like a hen sits on an egg. It doesn't hatch. I should know. I've made enough of it.
