For dessert I ate a desert. It was sandy, and so was the name of the woman I ate dinner with. She had a dry sense of humor, and that is why I wore a raincoat.
Left-handed and eyes closed, it’s how I masturbate—while driving at night. If you want to know how I make love, you’re going to have to pay for admission.
My love may be invisible, but that doesn’t mean you can’t taste it. (It tastes like a sonic boom, only not as bitter).
I wear a glove to honor all the men who have given me a hand. And to think, out of all those men, they only had one hand. No wonder I never get any high-fives.
My kitchen sink has no truck attached. My love needs a waterproof suitcase in these Days of Desert and Dessert. Who are you going to come running to when the Ice Cream Man melts?
If I can delay your action with my inaction, then I’ll gladly do nothing for the good of the no good.
I’ve aged more this past week than I did in all six days that preceded it. Will you still love me tomorrow, when I’m an older man?
I’ll never be as old as someone older than me, but I can be older than them if I outlive their lifespan.
I am an uncle, though this is not a new feeling for me, as I’ve been one before. I’ve also been 2 through 32, and I turn 33 in March.
Women always want to look younger, and I always want to look older, so I could look like Pliny the Younger. As a lover, that would give me the best of both worlds.
Am I the only guy that holds a flute of champagne like it’s a musical instrument?
The woman I love rolled through town yesterday, and she didn’t even stop her wheelchair once as she passed through. I got so angry I had to walk it off.
People are so particular. Unlike animals, which can be lions, eagles, or sharks, people are only people. (Though some people can easily be mistaken for animals—namely politicians.)
My girlfriend bought me a collared shirt for my birthday, mainly so I don’t get too far ahead of her when she takes me for a walk.
As an animal lover, I don’t like zoos. I feel the only creatures that should be caged behind bars are politicians, lobbyists, and lawyers. And rapists, but I’ve already listed that three times.
I traded in my car with no gas in the tank and my new car came with a full tank. So I at least profited there. That makes me appreciate my depreciation more.
We’re different, you and I. I am a Rorschach Test, and you, you are a butterfly. No, wait, you are a bat. Actually, you are the Galapagos Islands. Or perhaps you are a failed Pollack painting.
If I asked people how many people there are in the world, I’ll bet more than half would reply, “More than half.” True, but would they also know Georgia is a state, a country, and a painter?
I made art out of all the phone numbers on napkins I’ve had over the years. So it was just one napkin, and I wiped my mouth with it after I was done.
If I could capture the rays of the sun in a can, I'd paint a canvas with it and have you look at my work until the memory of my work was burned in your mind and your retinas burned out.
I am a single drop of blood trying to mix in with billions of red paint splatters in this Pollack painting called life. I think the cops are trying to frame me.
