“I dance like I have a chip on my shoulder. I dance salsa.”

“I have a 12:34 representational time dance. I do it at 3:33 every other Tuesday (twice a day). If you’d like to participate in my choreographed dance routine, bring a football helmet and a half empty can of tuna (keeps the stray cats away, because I perform in a gritty, grimy downtown alley).
”

“She had a forehead like a dance floor. You should have seen the way the sun danced on her face in the middle of the night. I never actually saw it because I was always asleep in the middle of the night, but I’ll bet it looked unbelievable.”

“I don’t quite know how to respond to people who say that I dance like my genitals are on fire. I usually just blush and brush aside their flattery.”

“I want to be the first and second man to dance on the moon. No, I won’t moonwalk. But I will Cha Cha—with my clone.”

“Dancing? Not only do I have two left feet, but they’re different sizes. And I don’t put them in shoes—I store them in glass jars in my basement.”

“When I jog it’s like a dancing dog. Well, it’s more of a foxtrot.”