A brick could be sawed in half and each half glued under the back of a shoe to form high heels.


A brick could be used to change the channel on a TV. Or at least turn it off—permanently.


All living things contain a measure of madness that moves them in strange, sometimes inexplicable ways.

A blanket can be rolled up, much like I roll up my emotions when I listen to political rhetoric.


A brick could be used to not be used. Is my hair waving in the wind, or are your eyes twitching?


The three of us made love like one of us was a voyeur. I was the only one using binoculars as a sex toy.

Those who are not shocked when they first come across quantum theory cannot possibly have understood it.

A brick could be used as a spoon—to eat, not cuddle. OK fine, you can use it to cuddle too.


A brick and blanket could be used to turn my words around like backwards high heels on my tongue
.

A blanket could be used to settle disputes. Hold my penis while I demonstrate how it would work. 


A brick could be used as a stand in for a liar’s face. Go on, punch that liar in his face. 


His name is Randy Randy. Or maybe it’s Randy Randy. I always get his first and last names mixed up.

Strange, i thought i knew you well, thought i had read the sky, thought i had seen a change in your eyes.

I talked to him on Christmas, and again on March 5th. Neither one of us hung up the phone that whole time.

The strangest experiences in life are apt to lose their effect if dwelt upon long enough. ("Furze Hollow")