The scope of my problem will easily fit in the scope of my rifle. Too bad true love has to come with a mother-in-law.

I only sing in the shower. I would join a choir, but I don’t think my bathtub can hold that many people.


Love is a four-letter word. So is glue, only it isn’t as sticky. And I must admit, I still eat it all the time.

I eat toast and ice—because bread and water just aren’t enough for me. I’m also an insatiable lover.

I didn’t have time to grow out a beard, so I glued a wig on instead. I make love like a hare in a tortoise shell.

If you make a nickel a second, you can’t afford to pick up a penny off the ground. It’s the same with love.

Do a loony-goony dance 'Cross the kitchen floor, Put something silly in the world That ain't been there before.

I make love like Brett Favre threw his first pass as a Green Bay Packer—to himself. Obviously, himself is myself.

I invented a Love Machine. You should buy two, one as a backup—or to run both simultaneously while you masturbate.

I love you because I love you, and if you don’t like it you can use my circular logic as a noose and hang yourself.

Have you ever been at a point that you don't know what to say? But yet you came up with this crazy idea to type this.

And he claims another victim.” I cracked a grin. “Edwin, you’re turning this infirmary into a speakeasy.

Blood may be thicker than water, but it's certainly not as thick as ketchup. Nor does it go as well with French fries.

While you were busy trying to prove God stands behind you, God was before me lighting the trail, so he could lead us both.

There’s no room for love in my life. My car trunk is already full of groceries, a spare tire, and two kidnap victims.