With friends like me, who needs mannequins? My love for you is statuesque. Come, let us dance like we’re made of stone.
Somebody get me a bottle of booze—and a reason to quit drinking. I fell in love twice today, and I only encountered one other person.
I am the qorj of love. If you find that hard to believe, then I’d like to sell you a Bible.
My book has no plot. Wait, yes it does—in the cemetery. It’s a love story where one character is dead, and the other is a dirty pervert.
Ever seen a cat with polka-dotted zebra fur? Come to my House of Love Open House this Friday night at 8:00 PM.
I made Tuesday Salad like Monday morning is Sunday night. Do you agree on the difference a day can make in the realm of love?
I cried at the funeral. It wasn’t because I loved her, it was because I was there, in the front pew at the church, chopping onions.
I want a coffee machine that runs on gasoline and drives me to work. We can make love in the backseat, next to the cream and sugar.
Every time we made love, one of us cried. Mostly it was me, out of joy, but occasionally it was her, out of despair.
I had a dream about you. You were a midget, only shorter. But your love for me was tall and handsome and everything you’re not.
My ashtray is full, the carton of cigarettes is empty, and I just cremated grandpa. But I never inhaled—or told him I loved him.
The fire burnt down our House of Love. Our relationship didn’t work because I was the water, and she was the empty hose.
Just because your plate is empty, doesn’t mean your stomach is full. Same with love. Where’s the Romance Buffet?
In the future, man will travel on flying carpets, and shoes that float on water. And we’ll all make love together, as one, as one might masturbate today.
When I didn’t see a ghost, I knew I’d seen a ghost, because ghosts are invisible. This logic also lets me know when I’m in love.
A fly with an elephant on its back would give the illusion of a flying elephant, if that fly were powered by my love for you.
I make love like others make money. You’ve got to spend money to make money, right? If not, then why am I paying for sex?
Everything you swallow will kill you, some faster than others. Swallow your pride, and you’ll love a long time.
Love between two people is sacred, and also secret—and shouldn’t be shared with a third person. But come on, you can trust me.
We made love like two cars that were out of gas. I tried to fill her up, but couldn’t because I myself was empty.
I make love like Jello-O is liquid. And I masturbate like Jell-O is solid. I’m tired of sex with blow up dolls.
