A blanket could be used to save your marriage. If only your spouse is invited under your blanket, then each party feels exclusively inclusive to each other. Still, there is a problem. What am I going to do with all the tickets I sold to the internet perverts to spend an evening with you under your blanket?
A blanket could be used to help you remember. You’re probably tempted to ask, “Remember what?” And that’s precisely my point—you can’t even remember what you can’t remember, and I’m here with a blanket to help. So scoot over and let me lay in your bed with you.
The word “Building” makes a completed structure seem under construction. Once a building is finished, it should be called a “Built.” Similarly, a brick is complete in and of itself, but it is also a part of the process of building, and a part of the end result, a newly constructed built.
A brick could be used to stop potential terrorist plots. But it sure would be more effective if I could just record every single phone conversation, email, text message, Google search, and Skype video chat from every single person in the country. Trust me, it’s what’s in the best interest of everyone.
I’m surprised there isn’t a jet airplane designed in the shape of a brick. Some people (aeronautical engineers) might say that’s because bricks aren’t aerodynamic. Yeah, right. I’d like to see someone make that claim as they watch a brick flying towards their face at a high velocity.
Bricks could be used to fill Fort Knox. I know, I know. You’re probably thinking, if we fill Fort Knox with bricks, where will we keep all the gold that’s kept there? I still need to get precise measurements, and move all my clothes, but I think it’d be a good idea to store the gold in my closet.
A brick could be used to determine whether you are really in love or not. But you’re never going to be able to tell for sure if you try to run the experiment with the brick upside down. Keep flipping the brick over until the desired outcome is reached, and then you’ll know for certain the test is valid.
A brick, with its rigid conformity, could be used as a model for how the government wants its citizens to be treated. Every brick in this country is equal, and as such they should be identical, and line up in a straight line and keep quiet. And they should never, ever, question the bricklayers. Bricks do not talk back.
A brick could be used as a symbol for the kind of life I’m trying to build. The question now is, what kind of life am I trying to build? Well, I guess I want stability, longevity, and I’d like it two stories, with the second story being fiction, or even pseudo nonfiction, if that makes sense in its nonsensicality.
A brick could be used to keep thieves away from your house. Just set a brick outside your front door, and you won’t need any additional security. Years will go by and nobody will steal the brick. And because the brick won’t get stolen, it’s proof that it deterred thieves from approaching your property.
A brick is like fruitcake. You don’t want to use it up all at once, and in fact, you don’t want to use it up at all. Well, if you won’t use it, then give it to someone who will. Every other Christmas I get the gift of fruitcake—and I think it’s the same loaf that I gave to that person the year before.
A brick could be used to ascertain the truth. And then logically, a non-brick could be used to detect the lie. What kind of things are non-bricks? Well, anything from blankets to lies. So therefore, a lie could be used to detect a lie, and all this logic makes me want to grab a blanket and lie down—and that’s the truth.
A brick could be used to help defeat all incumbent politicians whose last name starts with Brj and anything after that alphabetically. Since people tend to vote for the first one on the ballot, Brick would not only benefit from the stupidity of the citizenry, but the people would benefit by electing the smarter of the two candidates.
A blanket could be bunched up and used as a seat cushion. But I’d rather cut off your buttocks and use that instead. Isn’t it better that I be the one to sit on your fat ass all day? After all, sitting on your ass is all you seem to do now that you’re addicted to high fructose corn syrup and targeted advertisements.
A brick could be used to foretell the future. But I’m the only one alive who knows how to make it work, and my occult knowledge can be rented out to you for $9.99 per minute. Call now, as supplies are limited. (Technically there’s only one future, but there are also as many futures as there are people willing to pay for it.)
