A brick could be used to float a good idea at work—especially if it’s a good idea that would be bad for you personally.


A blanket could be used, or it could not be used. They are opposites, but that doesn’t mean one is good and the other is bad.


A brick could be used to make life easier. Start carrying one around with you everywhere you go, and you’ll see what I mean. 


A blanket could be used to tell you exactly what I mean, at precisely the moment I don’t mean it. When I say go, Don’t!


A blanket could be used to warm the hearts of all the nonbelievers. We are all nonbelievers, because nobody believes in everything.


A brick could be used as a sex toy. Well, I say sex toy, but the politician strapped to the bed would probably say torture device. 


A blanket could be twirled in the air, like a new idea in your mind, and then either discarded or folded up like a wearable memory.


A brick could be used to describe somebody hard and inflexible, and a blanket could be used to describe somebody warm and easygoing.


A brick could be used to aid the lonely. Carry it with you, converse with it, and if you drink enough, you can even make love to it.


His loyalty has the consistency of a booger—sticky for a while, but easily flicked off. I’d probably love Prague in the spring.

My albino elbow bends like a bow and arrow shoots shoots, roots, and bearded forest creatures. Love me now, before I remove my undergrowth.

I can hardly be expected to think like Santa. I get three times the letters, I poop burritos, and my penis is two reindeers more plentiful.

A sex trophy should be functional, and shaped like a dildo, yet decorative, and shaped like Ben Bernanke. Insert it in your ass as desired.

A brick could be used as a measurement of time. Yes, just think how stylish you’ll look with a brick duct taped to your wrist!


A brick is what I’m voting for for President. And guess what? If you’re voting for a Republican or Democrat, so are you.