A brick could replace your window, if your window’s opaque, and you throw the brick hard enough.


A blanket could be used to mimic the mating call of my crumpled-up clone. Isn’t silence seductive?


A brick could be used as a flashlight. What, still dark? Check the batteries, because they may be dead. 


A blanket could be used to catch a hippopotamus. But you try it out first, and let me know if it works. 


Love is like building a wall with two bricks and a ton of wind. Obviously you and your lover are bricks.


For loose teeth the tooth fairy recommends tying your tooth to a brick and throwing said brick down the stairs.

A brick could be tied to a cape, and then exalted as a superhero. Is that any more absurd than Superman?


The Bible talks about building houses on sand and rock, but says nothing about a brick house built on a blanket.

A brick could be used to enslave humanity. No wait, a brick can’t do that—but the Masons can.


If my semen had chunks of crumbled brick in it, would you use yogurt to try to impregnate your fireplace? 


A brick could be used as one ingredient on the greedy Cake of Love. Other ingredients include: Everything.


A blanket could be used in exciting medical advancements, curing everything from shivers to tonitrophobia.


A brick and blanket could be used as a large slingshot, put the brick in the blanket swing it around and release.

A brick could be used in religious ceremonies. After all, it is slightly better than using live human sacrifices.

A brick could be used as a musical instrument. But it would take someone as deaf as Beethoven to enjoy it.