I don’t like it when I have guests over and my girlfriend doesn’t wear pants and makes sock puppets with stinky socks and does impressions of my visitors with a falsetto voice. It’s embarrassing. I hate when she steals my routine.
Alcohol is a crutch, for people with liquid legs. Our first date went swimmingly, like Michael Phelps mining for gold. 1849 just called me, and it wants its Levi’s jeans back. If you help with the zipper, I’ll direct the crane operator.
On my recent trip to Washington DC, I wore a hat I made out of a tin funnel that I covered with fur. Why? Because I was going to where the world’s largest collection of morons were, so I figured I’d fit right in if I looked like an idiot.
I’m writing a book, one letter at a time. After thirteen days, I just finished writing “Once upon a time.” Since it’s a fairy tale, it’s obviously a romance novel, along the lines of “All Quiet on the Western Front.
I have sewn my own destruction, and it looks like a cat sweater. I knitted matching pants too, because that’s what lovers do. My feelings for you melted in the ice cream cone, and I’m afraid I licked it all up before grandpa could get to it.
The only good thing about all the radiation in the air is I can go on my nightly walk and wear my astronaut’s suit and not feel like an idiot. I also wear the astronaut’s suit because she told me she wanted her space, so I wear it out of love.
I rode my horse to the saloon, but it was out of business. The cowboy I spoke with said the bartender served the saloon’s last drink on March 5th, 1882. Guess I shouldn’t have taken so long to shower and get ready. Ah, but that’s life, no?
As we were walking home the other night, Orafoura turned to me and said, “Were you aware that there are places in the universe where time doesn’t exist?”“I know,” I replied. “That’s where I went to buy my last watch.
Dave? This is John. Your pimp says bring the heroin shipment tonight, or he'll be forced to stick you. meet him where we buried the Korean whore. The one without the goatee."That was code. It meant "Come to my place as soon as you can, it's important.
I made myself an “I Love Jennifer” jacket out of my old “I Love Jenn” jacket. Two girls, one continuous love. The I Love Jennifer is a little off-center, but then so am I. Better than being self-centered, as my clone would probably say.
My mother always told me not to pick my nose, so I’m going let the plastic surgeon decide what my new nose will look like. I’m hoping he makes it look like either a Tiffany lamp, a Heckler and Koch assault rifle, or Bill Clinton’s erect cigar.
I watched the leaves change colors, and I thought, “People do that too. Their hair changes color as they age.” I remember that as my grandpa got older, his hair went from green to yellow to red, like a traffic light, only with slightly less honking.
My cat likes to wake me up by licking my armpit. Never before have I had such a romantic alarm clock. It’s true, man, I should have been born Harry Truman. He could have been a memorable deodorant salesman, if he weren’t such a forgettable President.
If you were running away from me, down a straight hallway with an oiled hardwood floor, and I had a machine gun and a pointy mustache, I still couldn’t hit you with a bowling ball. But what are you doing? You should be running toward love, not away from it.
I painted my walls yellow, with melted butter, because I recently discovered that I had a popcorn ceiling. It’s this kind of reasoning that leads me to think I might make a great politician. Vote for me because hey, I can’t be worse than the other guy.
