A blanket could be used to help frowners smile. I’m only halfway through the process myself, which is why I’m smirking.


A brick could be used to float a good idea at work—especially if it’s a good idea that would be bad for you personally.


A blanket could be used, or it could not be used. They are opposites, but that doesn’t mean one is good and the other is bad.


A blanket could be used to tell you exactly what I mean, at precisely the moment I don’t mean it. When I say go, Don’t!


A blanket could be used to warm the hearts of all the nonbelievers. We are all nonbelievers, because nobody believes in everything.


A brick could be used to make life easier. Start carrying one around with you everywhere you go, and you’ll see what I mean. 


A brick could be used as a sex toy. Well, I say sex toy, but the politician strapped to the bed would probably say torture device. 


A blanket could be twirled in the air, like a new idea in your mind, and then either discarded or folded up like a wearable memory.


A brick could be used to describe somebody hard and inflexible, and a blanket could be used to describe somebody warm and easygoing.


I enjoy poetry where I can talk as bizarre as I please, but theology or philosophy, I always respect the truth by taking it a step further.

She had wild eyes, slightly insane. She also carried an overload of compassion that was real enough and which obviously cost her something.

A brick could be used as a measurement of time. Yes, just think how stylish you’ll look with a brick duct taped to your wrist!


A brick is what I’m voting for for President. And guess what? If you’re voting for a Republican or Democrat, so are you.


A brick could be used to aid the lonely. Carry it with you, converse with it, and if you drink enough, you can even make love to it.


A brick could be used like yellow sneezes hello every time love walks like a slinky down the stairs. Who used my shoe as a soup bowl?