If I could change one thing about myself, I’d pick a new nose, because I’m tired of picking this one. Oh, and I’d stop treating people as if they’re flickable.
My ex girlfriend would say I am a bit of a romantic. Well, actually, she'd say I bit a romantic. I bit her on the bum.
The last time I saw love was in my imagination while reading a book on Thomas Jefferson. Isn’t the Constitution of the United States so romantic?
Her bag is full of green apples, except for one red one. I gave her the red one, as if to say, “Stop!” Don’t stop loving me—stop and love me.
If I had a vulva, I’d let you drive it like a Volvo. It’s all about safety. You could probably park on the street, but you might get a ticket.
I’m a door-to-door salesman. I sell doors. If I can’t knock on yours, because you don’t have a door to knock on, I know you’ll be interested in what I’m selling.
If you replace the letter "s" with the letter "x," you can make a lot of plural words naughty. For example, "fences" would become "fencex," and I'd say good fencex makes good neighbors.
I make love like a half an hour minus 27 minutes. If you’re as bad in bed as I am in math, that’s roughly four minutes. And I do mean rough.
For men, money, like sex, is something that nearly everybody wants more of, and unless you are famous or influential, you probably have to work hard to get any.
Sometimes my thoughts are too slimy for my brain, and they come shooting out of my penis. They are life-changing thoughts, so I’d recommend taking them deep inside of you.
The word "sex" has no sex. It is androgynous and probably asexual. And even though I have sex (my sex is male), I have no sex, despite knowing willing females.
Through the fog Orafoura said, “Those people are black.” “I know,” I said, “they’ll match the lemonade.” I make love like an Arnold Palmer, but not like Arnold Palmer.
I don’t like sleeping, but I do like watching the inside of my eyelids. That’s how I drive, and that’s how I make love. Honk when you’re finished.
I don’t trust mutes. By their silence, I wonder what they’re hiding. The lost Templar treasure, mysteries of the universe, my love for you—who knows what they could have hidden away.
I invented an invisible machine to help you get to sleep. It only works after your eyes stay shut for a length of time. It’s also so quiet that you won’t hear it.
I have just been elected Captain of the Nap Squad. It's a very exhausting position, and requires training twice a day, once when I get up and once before bed.
I’d sip your tears with a straw while you sleep, because I’m thirsty for your love. And the more I’d drink, the thirstier I’d become. Your love is oceanic.
Are there any sleeping jobs, because I have a lot of experience. Years and years, actually. And with on the job training, I can show up to work tired.
Love is a roundness, like a hole—a black hole. If what she wants is space, I’ll give her space—enough to fill an auditorium that has ample seating for a lecture by Stephen Hawking.
If counting is thinking, then the longest I’ve ever thought about any one subject continuously for is 127, 983 seconds. I might have also been in love, though I was too distracted to notice.
If I only had five minutes left to live, I’d only be half as alarmed as normal, because my watch is five minutes fast. And I can get a lot done in 10 minutes.
