A brick could be used as an identifier, for all those people with no real identities. I’m talking about clones, because just like bricks, each clone is exactly like the next. 


A brick could be used to stop a bleeding wound. Though just between you and me, I’d prefer to be bandaged by a Band-Aid, a blanket, or a pair of lace panties (preferably red).


A brick could be used to show you how much I love you. Well, maybe not a whole brick, but certainly a half a brick would be an accurate measure for the amount of love I have for you.


A blanket could be used to smother a fire—but not the fire that burns in my heart for you. Or perhaps that’s merely heartburn, and you’re just as common as a brick.


A brick could be used in place of a diamond on a wedding ring. Your wife's probably going to divorce you and take the house anyway, so you might as well give her the first brick.


A brick could be used in place of a parachute, and a blanket could be used as a permanent wall of a house. In both cases, the skydiver and home dweller would ideally be a politician.


A blanket could be hung on your living room wall, and watched instead of nightly news. Not only would it be more honest, but it also would be more entertaining and thought provoking.


A brick could be used to sell pepper to people in the salt mines. So while you’re busy selling pepper to the salty and sweaty workers, I’ll be selling them bottled water.


A brick could be used as a pillow, if you first wrap it with a blanket. But if you’re shivering from being cold, don’t worry—I’ll cover you with my naked body.


A blanket could be used to sell two-legged tables to one-legged men. This very same blanket could also teach them some Latin—specifically the phrase “Caveat Emptor.”


Bricks could be used as words in the saying of a mason. When words and actions match up, you have a structure people could live in. It's a lot to live up to, and a lot to live in.


A blanket could be used as a makeshift trampoline, to attract midgets to your picnic. The great thing about dining with dwarves, is since they are little people, they eat very little.


Everybody's weird, fundamentally everybody is a snap. Sometimes it's a sexual thing and sometimes it's a different kind of weirdness, but one way or another everybody's nuts.

If I had a funny thought and a runny nose, but only had one napkin and no paper, I’d rather use that napkin to write on than blow my nose. After all, that’s what sleeves are for.

A brick would make a great stocking stuffer at Christmas—especially if you chisel it out of the fireplace the stocking is hanging from. Let the homeowner know how much you care.