Bricks could be used to promote social progress. If we could amass enough bricks to build a prison big enough to cage every citizen, then everybody would be equal. And I think our current political leadership is savvy enough to see this, and is taking steps to implement this as soon as possible.
A blanket could be used to ward off warts. I tested it out last Tuesday on my Aunt Velma, and she doesn’t have a wart on her body. It’s probably true that she didn’t have a wart on her body before I began my experiment, but that’s just part of the inaccuracies of science.
A brick could be used to instill patience in a pupil. Not a pupil as in part of an iris, but a pupil as in student. Seems a bit silly to try to teach eyes patience, because they enjoy staring at a blank screen every night while their surrounding body is prone to lying prone in bed for eight hours.
Silence. How long it lasted, I couldn't tell. It might have been five seconds, it might have been a minute. Time wasn't fixed. It wavered, stretched, shrank. Or was it me that wavered, stretched, and shrank in the silence? I was warped in the folds of time, like a reflection in a fun house mirror.
My images were surreal simply in the sense that my vision brought out the fantastic dimension of reality. My only aim was to express reality, for there is nothing more surreal than reality itself. If reality fails to fill us with wonder, it is because we have fallen into the habit of seeing it as ordinary.
A blanket could be used to save your marriage. If only your spouse is invited under your blanket, then each party feels exclusively inclusive to each other. Still, there is a problem. What am I going to do with all the tickets I sold to the internet perverts to spend an evening with you under your blanket?
I put a saddle on my salad, and I rode my horseradish to Rhode Island, where I was just in time to be late. I think I left my time zone change in my Arizona iced tea, so all I have to offer you to drink is water that’s been redirected from the Colorado River through a series of pipes and political litigation.
A blanket could be used to help you remember. You’re probably tempted to ask, “Remember what?” And that’s precisely my point—you can’t even remember what you can’t remember, and I’m here with a blanket to help. So scoot over and let me lay in your bed with you.
The word “Building” makes a completed structure seem under construction. Once a building is finished, it should be called a “Built.” Similarly, a brick is complete in and of itself, but it is also a part of the process of building, and a part of the end result, a newly constructed built.
A brick could be used to stop potential terrorist plots. But it sure would be more effective if I could just record every single phone conversation, email, text message, Google search, and Skype video chat from every single person in the country. Trust me, it’s what’s in the best interest of everyone.
Bricks could be used to fill Fort Knox. I know, I know. You’re probably thinking, if we fill Fort Knox with bricks, where will we keep all the gold that’s kept there? I still need to get precise measurements, and move all my clothes, but I think it’d be a good idea to store the gold in my closet.
I’m surprised there isn’t a jet airplane designed in the shape of a brick. Some people (aeronautical engineers) might say that’s because bricks aren’t aerodynamic. Yeah, right. I’d like to see someone make that claim as they watch a brick flying towards their face at a high velocity.
A brick could be used to determine whether you are really in love or not. But you’re never going to be able to tell for sure if you try to run the experiment with the brick upside down. Keep flipping the brick over until the desired outcome is reached, and then you’ll know for certain the test is valid.
Eunice had deposited St John upon the balcony of the first-floor apartment of former Liberal MP, The Rt. Hon. Leonard Cossins, the disgraced Lord Mayor of Mitchell-Baines who had been removed from office having been caught administering counterfeit buttercup syrup to the local yeomanry whilst on a hunting trip to Stoke-Poges.
A brick could be used as a symbol for the kind of life I’m trying to build. The question now is, what kind of life am I trying to build? Well, I guess I want stability, longevity, and I’d like it two stories, with the second story being fiction, or even pseudo nonfiction, if that makes sense in its nonsensicality.
