His name was Skip, but I didn’t. I waited patiently in line behind him. But do not be confused. I am not the kind of lover who lets other men go first.
My bathtub is big enough for two people to fit comfortably in separate showers. I’m the kind of lover that Lowe’s home improvement salesmen who are working for commission dream about.
I got my girlfriend knocked up. Next time I’ll ring the doorbell before I enter. I think we’re about to witness the birth of a new me.
Something’s different about Mr. Different. The same can’t be said about Ms. Same. The two would make the best lovers, but that’s impossible, because I’m the best lover.
We made love like two tuna fish flying to Mars to eat blue pickles. Then I woke up and went back to work, fishing for aquamarine vinegarized cucumbers found in aquatic conditions.
I want to conserve energy expenditure by reducing our air intake. Save lives by saving your I love yous and holding your breath for the duration of your relationship.
You don’t need to windup the wind to keep it going. It’s the same with my erection. All you need is two AA batteries and one I love you.
How many birthdays can you fit in your lifetime? If you answered "All of them," you should have your genitals ripped out from underneath your father's pillowcase.
I am different, just like everyone else. And as such, I celebrate by being the same. The world won’t see a truly unique person until the first human clone arrives.
Hooray! I finally finished making a new book cover. Now I just need to write the book. The cover is the image of a man hanging, so perhaps I’ll write a romance novel.
I’m about to cross a time zone, and I feel younger already. If I keep traveling west, maybe I can catch up to the love of my youth.
If you were to ask me the best time of day to fall in love, I'd say, "Now." But you'd also have to remember to factor in the fact that my watch is eleven minutes fast.
I’m too busy to chew. That’s why I blend all my meals into smoothies, and I make love as slowly as ice cream melts in the Sahara.
I mopped up my moped off the street, and drove home on the unicycle below my handlebar mustache, while I thought about the path love might take now.
I saw a white toilet, with no plumbing, alone in a field of snow. Well, almost alone. There were two naked albinos and a polar bear sitting on it, and I felt inspired to write a love poem.
She said she loved me, and I didn’t believe it for a minute. Maybe 59 seconds, but not a whole minute. I may be gullible, but I’m not without an accurate way to measure time.
She doesn’t want me to leave, and she doesn’t want me to stay. That’s a double helping of Doesn’t Want Me, and one big I’m Not Hungry back at her.
To let her imagine how great a lover I’d be, I ate soup with chopsticks. She went home with another man, but I’ll bet she fantasized about me.
You will know my power when you feel me compress you into a ball and bowl with you. I make love like I just rented these fabulous shoes.
I’ll sit on a soda and drink a sofa. It’s just healthier. You should see how I make love. Show starts at 8:00. Tickets are ten bucks at the window.
My love is heavy with ink, so I took it and transformed it into a poem for you. I would give it to you, but Grandma took it because I left it on the counter, and she mistook it for the grocery list.
