A brick could be used to sell war to the peacemongers. The trick is to sell war cheap, because the real profit is in the renewals and extending the service as long as possible.


A brick could be used as a dream stimulator. Just tap it gently against your forehead. And if the mechanism gets stuck, just slam it down on your skull to jar everything loose.


I don’t worry about identity theft, because I don’t even know who I am as a person. So if I’m not even in possession of my own identity, how can it be stolen from me?

It’s impossible for me to applaud your successes when my hands are too busy patting myself on the back. But if I clap for you, and you pat my back, we can both feel like winners.

I want to mail my mailman something. He always brings me mail, yet I never give him any mail. Maybe he will appreciate the thought, or maybe he will feel I am making more work for him.

I can’t define what love is. That’s like eating a pancake with a waffle instead of a fork. But you know it when you feel it, like petting a cat wearing a synthetic fur coat.

I’m older now than my dad was when he was my age. Wait, that’s not right. That’s not my dad at all, that’s just some stranger hanging around in my memory.


A blanket could be used to foil slave traders. But so could tinfoil and leftover meatloaf. Geez, the whole Civil War could have been avoided if only Lincoln had known that little trick.

A brick could be used as brain filler for the political mind, just in case one of our elected officials needs a brain transplant to try to boost their intellectual capabilities. 


Bricks could be used to feed the homeless. But why not use those bricks to build the homeless people homes? Oh yeah, because that’s not the sort of smart decision DC makes.


A blanket could be used to save your marriage. But to be honest, I’d recommend saving your marriage in a Tupperware container. That way it’ll stay fresher for longer.


A brick could be used to block a mouse hole. But something better that would not only block the hole physically, but also psychologically, would be to stuff a dead rat in the hole.


A blanket could be used as a TV screen. How? No—why? Even better—why not? Why not wrap yourself up in your favorite TV shows and let the screen warm your body and soul?


A brick could be used as a flying decision inducer. You could have said yes before I threw the brick, but I suppose you’ll be more agreeable when you wake up from your coma. 


A brick could be used as a substitute for my father. I hate to admit it, but I think a brick would make a better dad than that guy I call “The Guy That Never Calls Me.”