Women, in general, are less visually aroused than men, a trait that has nearly cut the market for pornography in half.
He slept like an animal, well and lightly, faced in the opposite direction from that of a man; for a man going to sleep is about to escape into it while animals are prepared to escape out of it.
Nature has gone to great lengths to hide our subconscious from ourselves. Why?
Never mind, said Hachiko each day. Here I wait, for my friend who’s late. I will stay, just to walk beside you for one more day.
The sense impressions of one-celled animals are not edited for the brain: ‘This is philosophically interesting in a rather mournful way, since it means that only the simplest animals perceive the universe as it is (21).
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 friends call me Two Socks Kintz. They used to call me Barefoot Orafoura, but then someone gave me some socks. That was mighty kind of them.
I’ll never rest on my laurels. If I’ve got more than one Laurel in my bed, rest is not how I plan on utilizing my mattress.
After I’m famous, I want my statue to be made out of beige Jell-O, and I want to be portrayed naked, so my genitals jiggle in the wind.
Clones: Why should you take the blame for your mistakes when there’s a genetic replica of yourself that’d make a perfectly good scapegoat?
My brain is an amazing machine. Too bad I can’t take credit for it. As brilliant as I am, think how profound the Designer that created me is.
I love body language, because I can speak it without talking, without listening, and while my back is turned.
Day or night, I can’t see the wind. But at night, it feels like I can see it even less. What’s less visible than invisible?
You may be dying, but I’m going to have a picnic and enjoy this glorious day. I won’t let your impending death spoil my afternoon.
Death is like bedtime—we all want to put it off until tomorrow. But when you’re going to bed, I’m just getting up, Lazarus style.
While getting a haircut, I thought about my failed marriage. Instead of feeling bad, I thought I’d grow a beard, move to the mountains, and start over.
I come bearing gifts in the form of junk food. You’re welcome. I would have brought some drugs, but I’m not a doctor.
A leap of faith doesn’t involve leg strength. Still, I can’t take any chances, so I’ve been doing squats.
I can be a better friend, lover, and humanitarian, but I can’t be a better eggroll. Sadly, I’m as good of an eggroll as I’ll ever be.
Back in high school, I started a gang called “The Illiterates.” To easily identify fellow gang members, we all wore letterman jackets.
Don’t bother calling the cops, because nobody can find me here. I know, because after all these years, I’m still trying to find myself.
