I’m getting gray hair in all sorts of crazy places. Like all over my carpet. It’s like I live in a nursing home, except without all the sex.
I’m great at making love, at least for the first 20 bucks, and for about 30 minutes after that I just sort of lay there, trying to stretch out my investment.
When asked about sex, she said she had a headache. I said I have a pill for that. It’s called a Viagra, & I’d be willing to take it for her.
Last night my girl and I were knocking boots, but it won’t happen tonight, because earlier today I went out and bought a doorbell.
John Wilkinson invented the horizontal boring machine, and what a boring machine it was! In fact, it’s so boring that I think I’ll go to sleep now.
We need more upright citizens in this country. Everybody is just lying down as if asleep to the issues. And those who are up and moving are merely sleepwalking.
What I thought was a black hole turned out to be nothing more than a splatter of ink on my tie. And I assumed I was wearing the most astrological outfit of the century.
I could do more pull-ups with a midget on my back, than a midget could do with me on his back. This makes me the superior land animal.
Love is so stressful. I just want to wear a toga and be a shepherd. If I looked more like Jesus, I’ll bet I’d get more followers on Twitter.
I wish I could climb the corporate ladder like I could climb a tree, but I can’t, because I’m afraid of heights. And bark.
Love is like a beautiful summer day in the middle of winter. I’ve got shorts on, so it seems like a good time to invade Russia.
I’ve just begun to scratch the surface of my talent, and boy does my talent itch. It’s like a red mosquito bite the size of Mars.
I am greedy with water. I made your apology tea dry. I’m sorry. You might try snorting it out of the bag.
You haven’t lived until you’ve wiped your ass with a pile of sand. Toilet paper doesn’t measure eternity the way the sands of time do.
Her name is Today. I told her I’d call her tomorrow. That was yesterday. I’m confused about the time, but not about the fact that I’m in love.
Why have you left me, Yesterday? Was it because I slept with Today? I have a routine. Every day I do something different.
Time is a manmade concept, introduced just to sell more clocks. And I haven’t bought into the idea, which is why I am late for love.
Last night I stayed up late talking about tomorrow, and today I regret it because I was way off (by about 24 hours).
I’m looking for a full-time portable heat generator. Must be willing to travel. If you don’t snuggle, you must cuddle—at a world champion level.
Those who seek the Truth are logically in the dark. Therefore, if I aspire to be anything in the world, it's to be a lighthouse. And you, my midget sidekick, you can be my flashlight.
If you insist on digging for the truth, you can start at the cemetery. But not the one on the wealthy side of town, because I already dug up everything of value.
