A brick could be used to sell war to the peacemongers. The trick is to sell war cheap, because the real profit is in the renewals and extending the service as long as possible.


A brick could be used as a dream stimulator. Just tap it gently against your forehead. And if the mechanism gets stuck, just slam it down on your skull to jar everything loose.


A blanket could be used to foil slave traders. But so could tinfoil and leftover meatloaf. Geez, the whole Civil War could have been avoided if only Lincoln had known that little trick.

A brick could be used as brain filler for the political mind, just in case one of our elected officials needs a brain transplant to try to boost their intellectual capabilities. 


A blanket could be used to save your marriage. But to be honest, I’d recommend saving your marriage in a Tupperware container. That way it’ll stay fresher for longer.


Bricks could be used to feed the homeless. But why not use those bricks to build the homeless people homes? Oh yeah, because that’s not the sort of smart decision DC makes.


A brick could be used to block a mouse hole. But something better that would not only block the hole physically, but also psychologically, would be to stuff a dead rat in the hole.


A blanket could be used as a TV screen. How? No—why? Even better—why not? Why not wrap yourself up in your favorite TV shows and let the screen warm your body and soul?


A brick could be used as a substitute for my father. I hate to admit it, but I think a brick would make a better dad than that guy I call “The Guy That Never Calls Me.”


A brick could be used as a flying decision inducer. You could have said yes before I threw the brick, but I suppose you’ll be more agreeable when you wake up from your coma. 


A blanket could be used to improve the quality of your trumpet playing. Wrap the blanket tightly around and in the horn section before you start blowing, and my ears will thank you.


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 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 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.