A brick could be used like ice cream. But hold up, hold up. Let me put a bowl under it before you start licking, or else you’ll drip brick all over my blanket.


A blanket could be used to swallow up the nightmares you used to have as a kid. Whatever happened to those bad dreams? I’ll bet your mom gave them to Good Will.


A blanket could be used to represent my feelings for you. I think it’s slightly more communicative than me giving you a scrap of paper with a doodle of an erect penis.

I just got done digging a hole shaped like a human body. But I have no idea what to bury. I’ll probably hide all my love for you, like I would with any other treasure.

A brick has ten holes in two rows lining the center—perfect so that you and nine of your friends can each stick your little dicks in the brick after a few beers.


I put a bowling ball in a football helmet, because safety first. I got a score the bowling alley had never seen before. The didn’t see it because it was an invisible 0.

A brick could be used to remind you. I would remind you of what you need to be reminded about, but that’s not my role—that’s the brick’s place.


A blanket could be used to cover the engine of a car, much like a hood does, only the blanket would help the car fall asleep when it was spending its idle time idling.


A brick is a mythical object that empowers its handler and enables them to conquer the world and control the globe through secret occult knowledge. Just ask the Masons.


A blanket could be used to protect your heart from heartbreak. Keep your heart warm, because if your heart grows as cold as ice, it’s much more likely to shatter.


A brick could be an object to measure your life against. Are you square, rigid, and inflexible? If yes, are you in the military? If no, why are you acting like a brick?


I squared my shoulders, trying to ignore the fact that I was standing in the apartment of the sea witch, wearing a fairy-tale prom gown, waiting for the attack of the mermaids.

A blanket could be used to cover Mt. Rushmore. But if you rush more, you’re going to rip the blanket in the same way that the very fabric of our democracy is torn.


I want to write the Boston Marathon of run-on sentences. And since it'll be so long, I'll replace all the commas with the word Gatorade, to help push people through it.

A brick could be surgically inserted in the chest of a man who needs a heart transplant. And for just $20,000 more dollars, that brick could be replaced with a new heart.