A blanket could be used to stop the bleeding. But dammit you’re going to have to hurry, before I bleed out all over the carpet. 


People love to love, but I love to sleep, and that is why cats are closer to God than bricks are to blankets. –Cap’n Kintz


If you come by my place, you might see a wheelbarrow full of broken bricks. I broke them with my fist. I was practicing for your face.


I observe Stand Still Day. I also observe whatever I’m standing in front of at the time. I hope on that day I see how much you love me.

A blanket isn’t the solution, a blanket is the problem. I say we burn all the blankets, along with the bodies of the unbelievers.


A brick could be hidden in the dirt, for future archaeologists to dig up and declare, “Wow! This was one advanced society.”


A blanket could be used to help acclimate your body for your after death experience. Hell is hot, so you’d better warm up first. 


My routine is comforting, like a comforter. But a blanket could easily be used to replace my routine, because a comforter is a blanket.


A brick could be used to tell how hard the wind is blowing. If the wind blows the brick around, I’d get out of there immediately.


A brick could be used as toilet paper—especially if you just shit a brick. You could shit and wipe your way to a wall of privacy.


I used to sell hellos by the wave until I found out Dark Jar Tin Zoo was reselling them on eBay as goodbyes. Now I’m a yawn distributor.

A clock is a pie, and my piece is between 1 and 12. It’s always time to love—especially if it’s filled with cinnamon apples.

Which half do you want me to cut in half, Mr. Halfofhalf?
The name’s Onequarter. Johnny Onequarter. And don’t you forget it.

A blanket could be used for anti-population-control purposes. Get naked and get under the blanket and I’ll show you how it works.


Before you criticize my cardboard-free virtual product, I want you to know you’ve saved a dollar! Check the back of the box for details.