My left hand is my bad hand. I spank it with my right hand. You might call it clapping, but I call it discipline.
I built my ex wife a Castle of Love, and she dug a moat and filled it with sharks and lawyers. Oh well, at least I got to keep the unicorn.
I would have fought the forest fire, but it was a dragon-breathing forest fire, and I forgot my sword, my pen, and my Geoffrey of Monmouth tunic.
I dreamt it in my dream. You tried to steal my dream—the whole thing. But even though it was a dream, it was still too heavy for you to lift.
My drug of choice is love. Sure, I’ve tried other drugs, but no other drug gets both the dealer and user high from every transaction.
Love has a sound, if you know what to listen for. It sounds like silence, surrounded by blindness. It’s the Helen Keller of emotions, at least for me.
I’m a master of encouragement. Why should I do work myself when the price of getting others to do it for me is as cheap as cheering them on?
If you say renewable, I’ll think energy. If you say fore, I’ll think play. If you say binary, I’ll think anal defibrillator.
Numbers have power. But not enough to supply all the energy for all your daily electrical needs. There’s just not enough strength in numbers for all that.
I've fucked you, licked you, bound you, flogged you, and spanked you. Jesus, Lilly, how much more do you want to get to know each other?
Some people believe that people are essentially evil. Others believe people are essentially good. I believe they are somewhere in the middle, like Denver.
Some people are happy to exist, and other people are happy to exit. If you’re wondering why everyone is running, it’s because I just pulled the fire alarm.
I stepped on a banana spider today. I didn't crush it, but I did slip and fall. Then I got bit by one of the Three Stooges, possibly John McCain.
There is one tree in Gainesville I call "Grandfather" because it looks like a giant Bonsai tree. Well, that and I actually thought it was my mother's father for the longest time.
I like people watching. My favorite places are cemeteries. Tell your great grandpa I said hi next time you see him.
I found out who my real dad is on Facebook. I also found out who he isn’t. He isn’t the man I thought he isn’t.
I think the perfect pen name is Quill McSeagull. Especially for writing flights of fancy—and nothing has more feathers than a love poem.
I want to design sleeveless jackets for armless men. I'm still trying to work out how they would zip it up though.
He doesn’t have sex with sheep—he sleeps with scapegoats. He is my father, and I haven’t seen him since before I was born.
Hoping you were the first to do something, and fearing you weren’t the first, won’t change the future by altering the past. If you can’t be Neil Armstrong, then be Neil Armstronger.
After a lot of stalling and posturing, I finally admitted I had feelings for her. Most notably I felt anger and resentment, and a few less positive emotions.
