I’d like to spend money on a wallet, but if I spent money on a wallet, I’d have none left over to fill it with. At least my heart is full of love, even though I left it in a politician’s pocket.
One time a woman made my heart flood with love, and then fled the scene of the subsequent boating accident. Many people drowned that day, and all of them remember it fondly as they fondle themselves.
My attic is the size of a can of cat food, only filled with more meows and not as tasty. So you see, I have nowhere to store all my love but in your heart.
I may not be able to remember your name, but I remember your address and what time you leave in the mornings. Your name isn’t Rob, is it?
I don’t call watches watches, I call them grasps, because one, they grasp onto your wrist, and two, time isn’t something you can watch; it’s a concept you have to grasp.
Knowledge is ignorance. I know so much that I know I know so little. I used to think your name was a synonym for love, but now I just don’t know.
I wear a ten-gallon cowboy hat. That’s where I keep my fish tank. When you’re a farmer of love, you’ve always got pink kissers on your mind.
On Knowledge: You know that I know you know, but I want you to know that I know you know I know you know I know. It’s important for you to know that, you know?
I had no idea he thought he was funny, tried to be funny, or actually is funny until he made me laugh so hard I peed all over his feet at the urinal.
To live a more authentic life, I’ve started studying the world’s best counterfeiters, the Central Bankers. But I can assure you, my love for you is not inflated.
I want to scrape earwax out of your ears like the last of the chunky peanut butter in a jar. I’d love it if you ate one of my world famous Listening Sandwiches.
Women get lonely, while men merely get horny. I should know, because I’d feel lonely even if I were surrounded by 11 clones of myself.
I was in Love once. I think I stayed at a Holiday Inn. Or maybe I was in Loveland, Co. But either way it felt great to be so directionless and unaware of my surroundings and so utterly lost.
I need love. Here’s a list of other things I need: eggs, butter, flour, and sugar. I’m making a cake for the woman I love—and another one for my lover.
I have two hands so I can provide companionship to myself by holding one hand with the other. As a lover, I am self-sufficient.
This morning my car wouldn’t start. I guess that’s better than if my car wouldn’t stop. As a lover I’m a bring-my-own-bicycle kind of guy.
I built a Name Machine. It’s a vending machine that dispenses monikers. For 50 cents, now you can be called Don G. Lover, just like your mom.
I’m not a firefighter—I’m a firefly fighter. My bravery may come in small flashes, but I am sure it doesn’t go unnoticed by lustful women and campers everywhere.
Why spend ten dollars to buy one item that does two things, when for five dollars a piece I can sell you two items that each does one thing?
I tried to knock my wife up, but she’d only let me ring the doorbell. And she made me dress up like the pizza delivery boy while I rang.
Pineapple juice doesn’t come in a can—it comes in a hard, spiky shell called a pineapple. Pineapples are great and all, but of all things to grow, up is the most profitable.
