Her mouth contorted, and the wrinkles around her lips were like the dunes of a frosted cupcake. And I just wanted to lick her living word machine (mouth).
I don’t mince words—I mincemeat. And combining these two I’m writing a cookbook called, “101 Pies I’ve Never Eaten—And Neither Should You.
I meant to spend the day writing, but instead I spent the afternoon cleaning out my belly button. Historians will thank me one day.
I like using White Out. But sometimes backspace or delete works just as well, when I don’t have Windex to clean my computer screen.
I wrote a zen koan once about love, but it didn’t make any sense. That’s how I knew I had accurately described love.
My love is like hooray! Special terms and conditions may apply. See dealer for details. Coupon not valid with any other offer.
The schizophrenic in the sleeping bag with a live chicken and a can of tomato soup spilling onto the sidewalk had no right to steal my street performance.
At Starbucks I like ordering a “Tall venti in a grande cup.” That’s basically me asking for a small large in a medium cup.
Love is like a forest, I think as I kill trees by squandering toilet paper while “decorating” my ex girlfriend’s front yard.
I can draw like it’s nobody’s business. I use my door as a canvas, so don’t knock, because it’s nobody’s business.
I watch baseball on TV like my cat watches the window. Somebody open the blinds so we can see better!
She looked like the kind of woman I could fall in love with. Trouble is, she was standing next to the kind of woman I’d like to make love to.
I notice when you’re gone. With you not being there I notice your unbeing, with you still being a being in time but not my space.
Agatha told me she was late, and I thought, I haven’t slept with her in years—she really must be late. I’m going to be a father!
I’m the sort of guy who will accept blame, if it means being singled out as honest and honorable, and there’s a chance I’ll be rewarded.
The police seemed to think I killed her, which is crazy, because I loved her like a thousand drops of blood dripping down a dagger.
When I was a child, books were everything. And so there is in me, always, a nostalgic, yearning for the lost pleasure of books. It is not a yearning that one ever expects to be fulfilled.
Early on I set out to write the next Great American Novel, and then later on I set out the silverware and enjoyed my dinner in silence.
I’m up for the Julius Caesar Author of the Year Award this year. I’m tremendously proud, considering Caesar is the guy who burned down the Library of Alexandria.
I’d rather have a career that utilizes my creativity, but torturing people all day long is not a bad gig. At least not for me.
I was so offended I wanted to light his face on fire. But I restrained myself, because he was wearing my cat on his head.
