“I like my spaghetti like I like my women. All over my shirt.”

“I like my relationships like I like my eggs. Over easy.”

“Right now I’m naked, like how my pizza comes out of the oven. I like my toppings like I like my women: topless. I love me some pepperoni.”

“My eyes change color depending on my mood and what I’m wearing. If I’m wearing an acorn brown shirt, my eyes look like squirrel fur. And if I’m wearing no shirt at all, my eyes look more nude and flesh-colored. I guess my ex girlfriend, Zelda, said it best when her friend asked her what I look like and she said: “He looks like you’d imagine him to look like, if you had no imagination.”

“I look for patterns that nobody else does. Like I noticed that my face looks like a tablecloth. Especially when I have food all over it.”

“A stranger left a white jacket, and it’s tempting for me to grab it, put it on, and use it like a shield against the spaghetti I’ll soon be eating. When I splatter red sauce all over myself, I don’t feel like a slob—I feel like a warrior.”

“I like undressing women with my eyes, but I just can’t quite figure out how to unstrap their bras with my eyelids.”