Having always been a bit fruity with his speech, upon seeing his wife’s goth-encrusted nephew, he asked, ‘Whence came this dark-eyed boob, who darkens our door with his cosmetically-challenged eye black and soils our throw rug with his humorously elevated boots that reek of self-hatred and hound poop?’
I have a feeling that maybe you have such a concise, yet vivid image of love because you think too much about it, as if you were afraid to find it, afraid to lose it, and afraid of where it could take you.
“That car is dirty,” she mused; “It’s a Jeep… it’s supposed to be dirty, it means it is loved,” he countered: she thought about that for a moment and then blurted, “does that mean if I’m not dirty, you won’t love me,” looking worried while he laughed “no… it just means I haven’t loved you recently.”
“Sometimes I agree with you that women can overthink emotional issues, whereas guys can go out back, pee standing up, come inside and order two more beers, and hey presto, things are cool.”
“Think of it like one of your $100 fingernails,” Henry told his wife, “except instead of acetate to remove the old broken parts, my heart requires something distilled in Kentucky with a bit more bite to it.”
Why is my phone in the refrigerator?
For $8.00 an hour Peter would perform any job known to man except suck strawberry jelly from the center of donuts; that, as you might well imagine, he would do for free.
“Here, Fate, here, Fatey, Fatey, Fatey, Fate - I’ve a great big Biscuit of Trouble-Brewing for you!”
Its not true that every child who kills their family pets grows up to be a serial killer, my best friend is a professional counselor.
I hear there’s all sorts of bad stuff in coffee, but my mind and I are in agreement on this one; we’re willing to filter it all out.
The poetry of the smoke-filled tavern stared back at him from the dirty mirror while a single feather tapped the measure of the failed rhyme scheme against the edge of his glass.
As he studied the x-ray, Dr. Theopolis had the uncanny feeling that he’d seen Mr. Fitz’s bones somewhere before.
The polar bear delegate to the UN pounded his large paw on the podium vehemently roaring that if human penises started shrinking because of global warming there would be a huge outcry.
After years of therapy, I was finally able to admit that lying about owning a house giraffe was actually nothing more than a lifetime of pent up frustration regarding my mother’s embarrassingly long neck.
One of the many differences between my dog and John Lennon is that my dog says he would never hump Yoko’s leg.
Science made us lovers.
Viewing cows out the window of a moving car, it’s a known scientific fact that everyone inside will start to moo.
Every night Cletus waxed the floors of the mighty Hall of Justice, and every morning like clockwork Superman would show up for work, wearing his big black boots, and scuff them all up again.
We have our past before us—the past’s the only real thing we have, and we can learn a lot about living from it; the present is nothing but an illusion—as fast as you blink your eye it’s already part of the past; and the future—the future’s a dark hole no one can see—it may not even be there, because while we’re talking, death can come and carry us away.*
* Great liberties were taken with the original punctuation of this sentence in order to make it Scrine-compliant.
Don’t anthropomorphize inanimate objects...they hate that.
“There are certain clients,” Juan lamented to Patrick, staring bleakly into his Guinness, “who you can’t seem to ever get rid of and who suck the life right out of you.”
It’s easier to work yourself to death than it is to train an employee to do it.
Laura rarely bothered with the daily horoscope found within the bowels of the newspaper among the advertisements for movie theatres, or restaurants, for she usually just threw that section for the cat to shred up and roll around in, but out of pure boredom, she choose to take a gander.
“Jupitur will rub up against Uranus, and inspire sparks of sensuality.”
Well, she will never do that again…
“In the Big Rock Candy Mountains you never change your socks, and the little streams of alcohol come a-trickling down the rocks.”
“I’ve never eaten a mango.” [Keith]
Dr. Leonardo Brock, reclusvie West Hills scientist and avid skeet enthusiast, was arrested late Tuesday night when the remains of several miniaturized humans were found in a shoebox hidden under his bed; while Dr. Brock offered no statement or explanation for the tiny human remains, the largest measuring barely 5” from end to end, the doctor’s son is quoted as saying, “They made great pets, but you shouldn’t keep them in your pant’s pocket, at least not all day.”
Doyle studied the angel feather sticking out of his bran muffin, unsure of who to sue.
“I am only a tourist here on planet Earth,” he said taking a drag from his cigarette, “I’ll be god damned if I spent eight hours of my time a day working at a job I hate.”
Sisyphus just about had the boulder to the top when his cellphone rang.
“One day rats will be endangered!” Roy yelled at his neighbors as he dumped the trash onto the stoop, “and then ol’ Roy’s going to be a hero, and you snivelin’ whine babies are goin’ to owe me one big fat apology.”
Hurtling down Highway 101, hoping he wasn’t too late, he pulled over, aghast: replete between the soybean fields that asshat developer had made manifest his flimsy and endlessly repetitive erection, a horror of Arts and Crafts-style bungalows baking in the blazing sun.
Johnny pulled Elizabeth’s pigtails and ran laughing to the other side of the jungle jim where he began scrambling up, just slow enough to be caught.
This morning I woke up, looked at my watch, thought “I would pay serious money to someone if there was some way to buy another hour’s sleep,” looked at my watch again and discovered I’d misread it and had exactly an hour to go before I had to get up.
“Daddy, do fish swim on the other side of the river in England?”
In the geometry of desire, pain is a given.
It’s a good thing animals are so stupid, or they’d be doing things like inventing money, getting jobs, and showing up at church on Sunday.
“Since I’m made in his image, that means he’s a depressed, underachieving, balding, middle-aged white guy going soft around the middle,” Bob said to his beer, “That explains a lot.”
Whenever the guys down at the mill asked Joe what his two boys were up to, he never told them the truth - that one was sitting around waiting for the perfect sentence, the other one on some barstool, waiting for another beer - but usually just went with the story that they both ended up gay, which he’d discovered over the years was much easier to explain, even to old lumberjacks.
A person who does not believe in airplanes probably should not fly twice each week.
Wouldn’t it be cool if ontogeny really did recapitulate phylogeny?
Theodore sometimes found himself confusing intravertebral autonomy with the more primitive form of losing his tail, intervertebral autonomy, making him the butt of nearly every joke in the lizard tank.
The computer’s adoration for Jared turned downright unsavory when it pretended to acquire all kinds of viruses, spyware, and illicit freeware downloads, in a desperate bid for his attention.
Pain that is kicked out of one’s muscles by liberal oral application of tequila is sure to come back about 12 hours later, duller, sodden, very pissed off and dead-set on taking up residence inside one’s skull.