A brick could be used to help you write the book you’ve always wanted to write. That is, if you wanted to write a book on masonry with a target market of two—your parents. 


What does it say about me that I don’t say much? It doesn’t say I love you, and that’s sad, because when I ignore you, that’s exactly what I’m trying to tell you.

A brick could be used to illustrate the seriousness of the situation. You’ll know I’m not playing when I display a brick. Shit’s getting real up in here, motherfucker.


A brick could be used as bait for the vampire shark. Since nobody’s ever seen a vampire shark, let alone caught one, I think it would be unreasonable to dismiss the idea entirely.


I wore a hat, to compensate for the fact that my pants were unzipped. When we made love, she asked if I brought a condom, so I showed her my tube socks. I brought two, for twice the protection.

There really is no sense in pretending to be normal. Just be you because the moment you do, weirder things happen. Crazy comes back into fashion and every woman has to go out and find her some.

A brick represents my rationality, and a blanket represents my emotions. It’s robot versus mannequin, and to get a sense of who I am as a person, you need some mortar and a pillow.


A blanket could be used to stop terrorism. Unless that terrorist has a small knife, or really sharp teeth, and is able to chew through the cloth separating him from our American freedom. 


A brick could be used to crush grapes. If that sounds unnecessarily cruel, then I guess you wouldn’t like to pour you a glass of wine. It’s a shame, because I made it myself. 


Bricks could be used to pad the pockets of crooked politicians. Why stuff their greedy pockets with cash, when we could load them up with bricks and find out how good of swimmers they are?


A brick could be used to decorate a house. And not just one brick, thousands could be stacked and affixed together and really make your house not only feel like a home, but less drafty too.


I sorted my sordid sort ofs from my maybes. Then I made love like never before. Seriously, I’d never made love before, and I have to say, it didn’t cost me as much money as I expected.

A blanket could be used to sail with the wind. That wind is provided by my ceiling fan, and my boat is my bed. Why don’t you come over, and I’ll teach you the art of seafaring. 


A brick could be used to disguise the fact that I’m blushing. Oh my God, I’m so embarrassed! Don’t look at the rose of my ears, look at the rouge of the construction cube.


A brick is a rust-colored blur of movement, caught in a moment, and transformed from motion into a physical object. Studying this brick would give scientists an insight into how fast I run.