Quotes of: Sales-tax Keyword

We made love like flamingoes are pink. The lights were off, so I couldn’t actually see what color the flamingoes were, but they sounded pink.

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It was a blustery winter night, back in the summer of 2009. That’s when we met, and that’s when I knew it was love, two years before.

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Never sit on a freshly painted bench, or stand on a wet wall. That’s a lesson in love I had to learn the sideways way.

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It pours itself. My love, I mean. I hope you like a lot of gravy on your mashed potatoes!

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I suppose Orafoura was right about the vagina. It is such a wonderful spot to vacation. I’d recommend taking the whole family.

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Our meeting will keep, but my meatloaf and bowl of masturbation in the fridge won’t. Everybody at the political campaign loves when I bring food.

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It’s true, I can’t make you love me. But I can refuse to let you out of your cage.

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If you were to ask me if I have ever loved a woman, I'd probably reply, "Two gallons of milk and a midget.

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My bed’s comforter is yellow. It has to be to hide all the melted butter stains. I make love like microwave popcorn—only in half the time!

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My heart is closed, but open. Closed to one woman in particular, but open to the public. Guided tours are offered Monday through Friday 9-5.

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Pulling your head out of your ass is better than pulling your head out of a lawyer’s ass. (Limit one coupon per customer).

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Pa extended his paw as if to say, “I’m here, and I’m human.” What else could I do but say, “Meow.

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I feel like dancing. If I bring an extra wheelchair for you, would you like to join me?

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Abraham Lincoln wrote a poem about me once. You might know it as the Gettysburg Address. Men with beards are romantic.

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My vacation wasn’t long enough—and neither was my penis. Two weeks is just too short to satisfy one woman all night long.

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Two guys, a goat, and a ghost: A love story based on true events that may or may not be false. Who doesn’t love a good goat story?

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We made love like my foot cramped up in the middle. That was the last time I tried to do a marathon session.

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Our sex smelled like love—and monetary transaction. Whatever we had, it was politics at its most honest.

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Blood may be thicker than water, but it's certainly not as thick as ketchup. Nor does it go as well with French fries.

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I leave my door locked and unlocked. You know, for stopportunities. As a lover, I’ve been known—and unknown—to be like Zeno.

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I’m invisible, and the only way to show you would be to not show you. My love can also be proven without proof.

This Book is Not FOR SALE