If you could pour my love like it was a bottle of wine, would you have one glass or two? That was a trick question, because the answer is you’d drink it all—straight out of the bottle.
My friends mess around with my friends—and my friends’ bikes. Sex with bicycles—that kind of love is just too fast for me. I’ll stick to sticking it in statues.
Power lines are great places to hang my clothes—especially since my closet is full of birds. I make love like I have wings and know how to fly.
I need a tube-shaped bathtub, to play the tuba in. I make love like I make music—in a shower that’s in a phone booth that’s in 1981, the year before I was born.
Do I have cat hair on my face? I was trying to grow out my beard. Let’s make love like two meows trapped in a Ziploc bag.
I saw some kids at an elementary school, and I thought, I wonder if those kids are mine? Any of them—or all of them. It’s possible, because I love making love.
Let me be clear: I don’t want to make love to a mannequin—I want to make love like a mannequin. Oh, if only I were that animated in bed.
The only time I drink milk is when I drink coffee. I make love the same way—contributing 2% as I just sort of lay there.
We rode on the horse like we were in love and drunk on coffee. But that’s silly, because we weren’t drunk and in love. We were just drunk, and not from the coffee either.
I love Blue Ribbon coffee, and she loves Red Ribbon coffee. I don’t love her, because how could I love someone who loves losers?
Love is like 17 cents minus 33,333.50 dollars. No wait, that's not love—that’s how much debt I owe for a worthless college degree.
He said he came in second place, so I assumed there were only two competitors. But you never know with love, there may have been a third party involved.
She was washing all the dishes by hand, so I bought her a machine. I bought her a lawnmower. That’s what you do when you’re in love.
You can’t buy love, it’s true. However, I am offering mine for rent. Buy one year and get the next six months at half price.
I’d drink from a hose, but I wouldn’t drink from a horse. I have other ways of showing I love you.
My car would look better with a mustache for a bumper. Then pedestrians would know that I am a superior lover, just before I hit on them.
I’ve been to a horse farm, a magical place where jockeys grow on trees. That’s where we made love for the first time like it was the second time.
Why donate to a sperm bank when you can deposit it directly in different women? When you love the world you try to seed it, like a porn farmer.
We spent the whole evening conversing like I was mute and she was deaf. I didn’t talk and she didn’t listen, and that’s what made me think we might be in love.
The thing we have in common is we both love to make love. Maybe one day we can merge our mutual interest and make love to each other.
I asked what year the car was that was sitting in the driveway, but what I meant was how long had it been parked there. If it’s been there since 1982, I’ve been in love longer than it is wide.
