My name is Davis Davis. And don’t call me Mr. Davis! How would you like it if I called you Mr. Archibald, or whatever your first name is?
We all must die, but only I put the “must” in mustard. Sadly, the only man alive who understands what I mean is dead. RIP Mitch Ketchup.
The x-ray of your skull shows a large, flobby mass floating inside. I have to consult my colleagues to be certain, but it looks like a long sausage snarled into a lump.
I’m not growing old for free. I’m charging myself with the task of becoming someone better every day. And by better I mean younger.
The past is the past. I believe that people can change, under the right conditions (like plastic surgery).
I’m a romantic. I like cold coffee and orgasms that arrive fifteen minutes after I’ve put on my clothes and paid the lady.
For our fourth date, I said I wanted Italian, and she said she wanted Chinese. We decided to compromise and meet at the movie theater after we’d both eaten.
Her dad died unexpectedly, so I hid the flowers, because flowers are reminders of spring and life, and also of headstones and death. Also, I hid the flowers because they were for another woman.
I have thought carefully on how to leave this world, and I have concluded that I should exit the same way I entered: through a vagina. But not my mother’s.
Agatha loved military men. Actually, she loved men in uniform. And my bowling league outfit used to drive her wild with desire.
My life is a code within a code, and I’ll crack both like two eggs and eat my existence like an omelet.
I'll tell you a secret about storytelling. Cinderella, Snow White, Sleeping Beauty... were not perfect in the beginning. It's only a happy ending on the last page, right? If the princess had everything from the beginning, there wouldn't be a story. A...
The sunset faded and blended from pink to peach to mango in a smoothie in the sky. For as long as she doesn’t love me, I will love her.
Napoleon made war like I make love—from a height of about 68 centimeters. (I wear platform shoes while I’m on my knees)
I define myself and grow as a person through emotional torment, so if you love me, you will inflict as much pain on me as you possibly can.
What did I know of love then? What do I know of love now? I went from mustard to ketchup, but I’m still leading with my hotdog.
I am the Love Ventriloquist. And if you say I’m not, I’ll say it so it sounds like you said I am.
I don’t need love. I live in a forest. The quiet is my companion. The cold is my warmth. My heart once suffered from frostbite, but I removed and replaced it with a fuel pump.
Love is the most pleasurable pain imaginable, and I have experienced more pain-pleasure than a German twin experiencing schadenfreude at the expense of his brother.
Agatha’s love had wings like a penguin. Certainly this was a plus in the cold winter months. But our relationship never really took flight. It was grounded like a 747 minus 748.
I cut my hair so it looks like I just woke up all the time, so that I can be like, what year is it? I’ve been asleep since the 80s.
