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 blanket could be used to understand Understanding. At least I think so. The process is complicated, and really hard to understand. 


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?


A brick could be used to stop a tornado, unlike a mobile home, which only acts like a tornado magnet and seems to increase its power.


A brick could be used to replace a flat tire. After all, you want to replace like with like, and what’s more flat than a brick?


A blanket could be used to stop the bleeding. But dammit you’re going to have to hurry, before I bleed out all over the carpet. 


People love to love, but I love to sleep, and that is why cats are closer to God than bricks are to blankets. –Cap’n Kintz


If you come by my place, you might see a wheelbarrow full of broken bricks. I broke them with my fist. I was practicing for your face.


A brick could be used to slow down time. Sort of like a camel in a wheelchair pushed by a thirsty Arab. Hey, Khalid, wait up a second!


A brick could be used to tell how hard the wind is blowing. If the wind blows the brick around, I’d get out of there immediately.


A brick could be used as toilet paper—especially if you just shit a brick. You could shit and wipe your way to a wall of privacy.


A blanket could be used for anti-population-control purposes. Get naked and get under the blanket and I’ll show you how it works.


A blanket isn’t the solution, a blanket is the problem. I say we burn all the blankets, along with the bodies of the unbelievers.


A brick could be hidden in the dirt, for future archaeologists to dig up and declare, “Wow! This was one advanced society.”