If love were a collection of collections, would your relationship be banged-up baseball cards, or famous art? My love for you is famous art. You just have to wait for my death so my work can be honored posthumously, bringing in money precisely when I...
I had a dream where I lost Cap’n among the hundreds of black and white cats and they all looked nearly identical to him. It was such a sad dream that it made me drool out of my eyes.
My cat has long hair. Like a hippy. It gets annoying because I can’t get him to shut up about Vietnam. I can’t relate, because I wasn’t there. Neither was he, because like I said, he's like a hippy.
When the going gets tough, the tough give thanks for their mountain bike. I’m so rugged even cavemen would call me Xtreme. At least that’s what that Neanderthal barista who made my drink said under his breath when he uttered—or muttered—“Th...
There are billions of conversations happening every second, and it’s too bad I can’t listen to more than about half of them at one time. Most are just he said she said chatter, and I want to tell them to go sip on gossip and leave the coffee talk...
Exuding confidence can ooze onto everyone around you. But it’s sticky and goo-like, so remember to periodically wipe yourself down. I use a squeegee, because I don’t like squeezing sponges. The only time I like to squeeze is when hugging a person...
I eat fog soup (out of a can). You don’t think I make it fresh, do you? You don’t need a spoon or straw to enjoy it—you need a pipe to inhale it.
Newt Gingrich, buddy, the people of the United States don’t like you. And the only reason the rest of the world doesn’t despise you is because they don’t know you. Thankfully you won’t have to experience that global derision, as you have reac...
I wish I had eyes that changed colors from blue to gray, and then after I cried, to all the colors of the rainbow, because then I’d just sit in front of the mirror writing poems that alternated between extremely sad poems, to poems about light refr...
Some people sleep their lives away. But I also want to sleep death away. If I sleep long enough, maybe death will think I’m already dead and pass me by.
It is my wish to die of unique causes, perhaps in a high-speed tricycle crash, a bizarre stapling incient, or as a result of inadvertently sucking my brains out through my ear while trying to untwist the vacuum hose.
My dreams have wings. But not soaring eagle wings, more like the wings of a butterfly—colorful and easily ripped off. The last time my dreams got ripped off was when I shopped at Walmart, the place where freedom soars like a caterpillar under the f...
She works in the corporate business center, and I work in a satellite location. She calls it the “moon,” while I call it the “office.” I like to think of my office as God’s cue ball. I’m calling in now, The Big Three’s hitting the two b...
I’ve found newspapers only useful as kindling material for campfires. It’s been said that newspaper articles are written at a fifth grade reading level. If so, I can’t figure out why journalists would write something that the average high schoo...
If a man is powerful, then his rival must therefore also be powerful. The other’s prestige enhances your own. So choose your enemies wisely. My enemy is so great he won’t be born like a normal man. Oh, not Immaculate Conception like my God, but h...
On cloudy days I just want to raise my arm up, stand on my toes, and screw a light bulb into the sky. Don’t worry, my light bulb is energy efficient—it runs on solar power.
The best way to guarantee you have a job tomorrow is to not finish all the work your boss asked of you today. Wait, that’s not right. Sorry, I’m thinking like a government employee again.
It may seem like good is always reacting in response to evil, and evil always makes the first move, but if the universe is essentially good, and I believe it is, then evil can only ever be reactionary.
I want to win an award that doesn’t exist yet. Well, I want my clone to win it, and that’s almost the same thing—and he also doesn’t exist yet, so it’s perfect.
I’ll work hard to win fame and recognition from the public, and then I’ll work hard to remain anonymous and unrecognizable and become as private as a hermit. I’ll be hermaphroditic with my notoriety, embodying both ends of the spectrum as I ...
I went to a gun range and shot a man made out of paper. That paper man must have had a brother, and I fear one day that paper man’s brother is going to shoot me while I am laying flat on my back.
