A brick could be used in speech therapy, to cure a stutter. I mean look at me, I don't have a stutter. But to be fair, I never did have a stutter, so I can't be certain the presence of a brick had any positive effect at all.


A blanket could be used to deliver the darkness on a platter of light. But I’d eat my unborn children straight out of your uterus with a straw before I’d ever be a delivery guy again. Burned pizzas burned me out on that.


A blanket could be hooked to ropes and attached to the body of a swimmer in training, to provide resistance and increase strength and endurance. Those very same ropes could be used to tie me to my bed, to keep me from falling asleep.


I loved her bravely, like a fighter turned sprinter. I loved her so fiercely that I never even dared speak of my feelings. And because I displayed as much passion as a statue, our relationship stood perfectly still and never moved anywhere.

A blanket could be used to wrap up all the love I have to offer you, so it’ll be easier for you to carry it across the desert. You’d better get walking, because me and my camel won’t be stopping until we have to pee.


A brick could be used as a response when the cops ask you if you murdered your mother-in-law. Forget yes or no. Well, forget yes altogether, but use brick for every response except one: What object did you use to carry out the killing?


With these words there came the rending scream of a shattered stirk and an angry troubling of the branches as the poor madman percolated through the sieve of a sharp yew, a wailing black meteor hurtling through green clouds, a human prickles.

A brick could be used as a musical instrument. It doesn’t matter how bad it sounds, because I’ll be the band’s lead singer, and my sexy voice is like melted butter on a corn on the cob lodged directly into your anus. 


A blanket could be used to store valuable information that will keep future generations warm overnight. And just so you know, it wasn’t me that farted in the blanket. That’s a bit too much information, don’t you think?


Lover’s Lane is so narrow only unicycles can travel down it. My high school teachers didn’t call me “The Babe Ruth of the Bicycle” for nothing. It’s too bad they didn’t call me that, because it was accurate.

Ralon didn't make anyone else put his tack away?" Alex wanted to know. "You didn't see anything strange?" Alanna didn't look up. "No." It wasn't strange , she excused her lie mentally. Ralon does things like that all the time.

Hey, Ms. P," Tad called, "what's going on?"She let out a slow breath before she answered. "You won't believe this... Brian Murrey tried to eat Scott Morgan."Nick's eyes widened at the unexpected explanation. Had he heard that right?

The bad news is most of my books are ebooks and aren't for sale in brick-and-mortar bookstores. The good news is that most of my books are ebooks and are perfect for emailing and I'm perfectly willing to give them away for free. 


A brick could be used to foretell the future. Here’s my prediction: Tomorrow will happen. If I’m right, the brick was correct, and if I’m wrong, we’ll all be dead and my prognostication record remains unblemished.


A blanket could be used to represent the Rectangle of Desire. In nine out of ten cases, it was more effective than Viagra. The tenth case was found to contain a lot of cash, and the participant made off with the money without completing the study.