A brick could be used for good, or for evil. The Brick of Creation, or the Brick of Destruction. While you’re deep in thought, contemplating which one you’d rather use, I’ll be over there looting your house.


A blanket could be used to say hello to a friend I haven’t spoken to in forever. Forever is a long time, like an eternity, only it feels like just yesterday I started ignoring this friend and acting like he never existed.


A brick could be used as a blanket, and a blanket could be used as a brick, but not very well and not equally as well. Which is whicher depends on whose colder and who’s more in need of constructing a permanent structure.


A blanket could be used to fix your broken marriage. You’ll also need duct tape, an empty car trunk, a getaway driver, and the most opportune moment to snatch your mother-in-law away to never be seen or heard from again. 


A blanket could be used to make people smile. But the blanket won’t make just anyone smile—it will make people with no mouths smile. I plan on showing a live audience how it works at the next Helen Keller Convention. 


When someone says so-and-so’s opinionated, what’s that mean? Aren’t we all opinionated? Show me one person with no opinions, and I’ll show you a bowl of Jell-O—or a politician, whichever one’s dumber.

EntropyThe Disintegrating Integration ofCheez-Whiz Squirts Insipid InspirationQuoth the Oblong Eclipse ofNether-Knowledge Never KnowingDecaying Matter in a Decaying OrbitOrangutans of ScienceStudy Ignorance of WhatThe Cows Already Know.

A blanket could be split in two—divided in half, like hereditary territory one inherits. And once you’ve got half the blanket, you’d better stay on your side of the bed—or else I’m going to tell dad.


A blanket could be used to separate the winners from the losers. With the exception of me, all men are losers, and only the winners are allowed under the blanket. Sorry, fellas, but there is nothing I can do about the situation. 


I know. I'm sorry." And the bizarre part is that I really am. I want to be good, to use the right fork and wear a pretty linen dress to breakfast. I want to be the girl in the pictures upstairs. But I can't be. That girl is dead.

Bricks, bricks, and bricks could be used instead of gold, silver, and bronze medals in the Olympics. If all an athlete cares about is winning, then I’ll take the precious metal off the international communities’ hands.


A blanket could be used like a Love Fleece. I imagine you’re shaking your head. Do you disagree? Fine, then when you’re shivering, I won’t ask if it’s because you’re cold—or because you’re lonely.

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.