Like Alexander the Great and Caesar, I’m out to conquer the world. But first I have to stop at Walmart and pick up some supplies.

A blanket could be used to lay down the law. Lay it down over there, on top of the bed, and I’ll come over and enforce it.


A brick could be licked, like a cat’s asshole. But obviously inversed, because your tongue is soft and the brick is rough.


A brick could be used like Dracula uses binoculars. I swear that pervert peeps on me every night from the tree across the street.


Bricks could be used to replace stop signs. Some people won’t stop at stop signs, but everybody will stop for a brick wall.


A brick could be used as a marketing tool. I’ll help you grow your business, if you help me plant this brick in the ground.


A brick could be used as another brick, as they all look the same. So yes, I am for human cloning as a means to build the future.


Life is getting weirder by the minute. Would you like to buy 60 seconds? No? How about buy one 30 seconds, get one half-minute half off?

This capacity to fold the completely weird into daily life, to make the aliens ourselves, is a quality I look for in a good, weird book.

A blanket could be used to barter with. I could trade my blanket for your sex, and everybody’s happy but the tax collector.


Blankets could be used as billboards on buildings, especially hotels, if you write things like, “Free sex with room.”


A brick and a blanket need a logo, and I’m just the designer to hire to sit around idly as I ideally charge you by the hour.


A brick could be used to grow your annual income by a factor of four. What, you don’t believe me? Are you calling me a liar?


A brick could be used to keep you warm at night, in the same way that a blanket could be used to smother a lover while they sleep.


A brick could be used like the point where always meets never. I mean come on, who wouldn’t want to watch a brick levitate?