I make love like sausage is to bacon as brick is to blanket. Somebody get me some utensils. And some lubrication (not Castrol Motor Oil).


My love is sticky, like glue. I'd kill a horse just to give you some.


We made love like a half a minute. I brought the thirty seconds, and she provided the excuse as to why she didn’t have enough time to have sex with me.


In bed, I can go for hours. Oh yes, I love naps.


I make love like a snake disguised as an elephant and a donkey. But I mustn’t talk about sexual congress and Congress simultaneously.


I am the Trolley of Love. Free rides before noon and after 11:58 am!


I am in love, and the river is beginning to ice over. I’d better go drown myself before I freeze to death.


Love is the point where Yes meets Yesterday, and that's why I put the No in Now.


Let me be clear: I don’t want to make love to a mannequin—I want to make love like a mannequin. Oh, if only I were that animated in bed.


Love is inaudible—until you hear it. And once you do, you’ll never forget the sound of her voice.