I never finish anything. I have a black belt in partial arts.

I love that Twitter is so international. I can hit "send" & be misunderstood by people all over the world almost instantly.

Tweeting is like performing live music. Often the audience goes wild for your mediocre solo but sleeps through one you think is brilliant.

"Erectile Dysfunction" is such a harsh term. Why not just call it "Sleepy Peepee?"

I've got to stop this binge thinking.

I've tried everything to get to sleep.

Well, except that thing where you shut off your phone & close your eyes, but let's not get crazy.

I've been secretly manufacturing boredom and indifference in my meh lab.

Words can be sex toys, too.

I won't unfollow because you unfollow me. I'll unfollow if your tweets suck.

Funny how your tweets suddenly all suck after you unfollow me.

Freud thought people's repressed psychosexual issues lived in their dreams & subconscious minds.

Imagine if he had lived to see Twitter.

She cut me down to sighs.

True: I'm in a coffee shop. 20 people here are on laptops.

1 old hippy has a pen & 3 sheets of notebook paper.

I like that dude.

Her: You were in the bathroom so long I figured you were jerking off in there.
Me: Nope, I was tweeting.
Her: Same thing.

Justice is blind.
Love is blind.
Bats are blind.
I completely lost sight of where I was going with this.

Wife reaches over and starts groping me in bed. Suddenly she stops.
Me: "Why'd you stop?"
Her: "Oh, it's OK now. I found the TV remote."

My threesome: I'm laying in bed & my two cats are fighting on top of me.

This is more pussy than I can handle.

I'm touched.

Well, I'd like to be.

The women in my house are about to start their periods. I'm living in a playground where the only equipment is a set of moodswings.

"OMG! It's super scary when water comes down from the sky! I'd better drive like an idiot."

- Everyone on the road right now, apparently.

Maybe I'm paranoid, but I could swear no one is following me.