I’m itching for battle—with a mosquito bite. The only thing in life I’ll scratch at more is the need to be loved. I’m so bloody needy.
And stop with the playboy title. I simply enjoy the company of beautiful women and ( . )( . ) and (_Y_) That’s tits & ass to the untrained eye. :D
I don’t want my love with her to wither like grapes on a vine, so I’ll water it with romance to turn it into wine.
I think a funny picture would have a caption that read, “Believe in yourself,” with an accompanying image of a wilting flower.
I've often wondered what makes a relationship last. I guess the best answer is it's the one right after the next to the last one.
Love can come shooting out of nowhere, much like semen shoots out a penis. Too many lives come to an end—and begin—from random shootings.
My love started the day I was born. If you run you can probably catch up. Remember, think marathon—not sprint.
I put out the Greg Call, which sounds like a whistle-quack, and a few dozen Toms responded. The only time I need a Tom is tomorrow.
My soul is invisible, like an anorexic’s dinner, but it sure enhances how I feel about my body.
I am the now of the then. My body is the embodiment of all my ancestors who came before me. They live on in me.
Be proud of your work week, not your weak work. Monday-Friday you can find me working out. I have the body of a fisherman.
All thoughts, secret or spoken, belong in a coffee table book written in Braille, so you can really feel the emotions.
The internet is a knowledge omelet. Sometimes I just want the purity of scrambled eggs that only a book can provide.
Last night I read two books back to back. Tonight I’ll probably read both of those books’ front covers.
I’m an open book—an open book I’m still writing and editing. My book is a romance novel, sort of like The Secret.
In 1,000 pages of Orafoura’s novel, I noticed he repeated one word twice. It really stood out to me. The word? Sit.
There are certain books in the history of the world that should never have been written. This book makes all those look like masterpieces.
My clone will have my mind, but I don’t mind. Two heads are better than one—especially when those two are one and the same.
I had a dream about your brain. I wish I could eat my dream.
I made plans out of hope, expectation, desire, and duct tape, and I broke those plans with my bare hands.
You gotta run more than your mouth to escape the treadmill of mediocrity. A true hustler jogs during the day, and sleepwalks at night.
