A brick is something solid, stable, and yet edgy. In other words, it’s everything a politician isn’t.


I make love like a brick could be used as toilet paper. Sure, it’s rough, but I thought you liked that shit.


A blanket could be used to communicate with dolphins. Be quiet! I’m trying to talk to the swimming mammals. 


Brick could be the codename for Rick B. But why the need for secrecy? If I told you I’d have to blanket you.


A blanket could be used to spot the blind. I’d spot Helen Keller nine points in a ten-point basketball game.


A brick could be used as a bottle opener. Just don’t smash down too hard, or you’ll shatter the bottle.


A blanket could be used as a warm topping on a hamburger, sort of like processed cheese, only tastier and healthier.


A brick could be used to smash my bottled up rage, and a blanket could be laid down beforehand to catch the shards. 


A brick could be used to foretell the future. And from all indicators, 2013’s going to be a blanket of a year.


A brick could be used as a period on a really large sentence. A blanket could be used as a really large tilde sign. 


A brick can be used to represent a ruin, or the beginning of new construction. With a brick, the past is the future.


A blanket could be used to reveal hidden mysteries. Quick, get naked and get under, and I will illuminate the night.


A brick could be used as a color in a new line of lipstick, designed to woo the mason of every woman’s dreams.


A brick could be used as a stand in for something to stand on, when a ladder’s on location in another location.


A brick could be used as a child’s game to improve memory. I forgot how exactly, but then I never played much.