Love is a bicycle with two pancakes for wheels. You may see love as more of an exercise in hard work, but I see it as more of a breakfast on the go.
People always say I have hands as large as the Roman Empire. I guess it just goes with the territory. Romance, it’s all in the gloves.
Pele popularized the bicycle kick, and I created the unicycle kick. It’s like the bicycle kick, only it requires more balance and one less wheel.
I steal cracker packets. I hoard them. Once my collection is large enough, I’ll take them to the flea market and try to sell them to discerning lovers.
She grew broccoli, and I grew dentures. We were perfect for each other. Our love disappeared into each other like a box of toothpicks.
With 87 other Elvis impersonators, I’m going to take over the world. Starting with Vegas. We will gyrate our hips out of love, and to end world hunger.
1-12, how many Decembers does it take to sell thirteen to Mr. Fourteen and Mr. Months? Depends on how much love you throw in for free.
They should make suitcases shaped like human bodies, for discretely transporting dead cadavers. And I should get a friends and family discount.
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.
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.
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!
Both of the items were used in an attempted murder, but hers was a dagger, and mine was a baby’s rubber bottle nipple. That was the last time I took a stab at love.
Do you want some fresh tomato soup to go? I’ll put it in a mesh strainer. Oh, if only love were as easy to contain as soup in a strainer.
Toothpaste Tuesday—bring in your favorite toothpaste-covered t-shirt and win free condoms. Remember to smile, because life goes on.
I am your Wednesday Sex Meatloaf. At least, I’d like to be. This Tuesday I have a vacancy, if you like leftovers from six days before.
A pancake would make as good of a wheel as I’d make a lover. I would invite you to have a seat on my unicycle, but it’s sticky from maple syrup.
In my pants is where you need to look to find out everything you want to know about love. I got the magic formula from your grandma.
I am an elevator in a one-story building. I am ascending. But my love for you is still on the ground floor, waiting for you to push the button.
I put the all in allow. Well, I put in most. All the rest I forbid! If it pleases you, dinner will be ready as soon as you make it.
Will you be my formal yawn formation at dawn? One rocking chair nailed to the floor does not make a relationship, if you know what I mean.
If mannequins had mustaches, I feel there’d be more love in the world. I’ve recently started growing my own vegetables and clothes.
