Love is a banana. First you peel it, and then you roll on the condom.


Love is meant to be sipped, rather than chugged, like a glass of wine you drink strait from the bottle.


We made love like green is blue. That’s because we were only half into it, though for the record I was the blue and she was the disinterested yellow.


I love full on, like 65 mph in a handicapped parking spot.


Love isn't two matching unicycles. Love is a bicycle—and mine just got stolen.


The only time I drink milk is when I drink coffee. I make love the same way—contributing 2% as I just sort of lay there.


She told me she loved me. She told me a lot of things. Some of those things were true, and some of those may or may not have been true. It’s kind of hard to tell, because to be honest, I wasn’t listening.


We had an unspoken love for one another. Probably because she’d never talk to me or return my phone calls or texts.


I make love like farm equipment—not to farm equipment. There is a difference, though my cousin can’t tell it.