“I waste more time trying to save time than I would if I were merely inefficient. One woman told me I make love like a fish in the desert, and I believed her, because she looked like a dry fish fucker to me.”

“A fish called Gilbert. But I just call him Gil to save some breath, so I can spend more time underwater petting him like I used to do to grandpa before he drowned.”

“This is the true story of my life, as told by a complete liar (me). While that sounds like an honest statement, it’s also a lie. I just can’t help myself. Unless I’m helping myself to seconds at dinner. You see, I can’t possibly be a complete liar, because I’m a rather incomplete person. I look complete on the outside—two arms, legs, ears, eyes, etc—but on the inside I feel half empty at times. If I were a glass of water, I’d make myself thirstier for more than I could supply. I thirst for love like a straw in the Sahara. I hunger for your body like a cannibal in the mountains. Wait, that last bit wasn’t true. I should have said cannibal on a deserted island.”

“I love how sincere she is. She makes a mannequin look like Mother Theresa, though she looks better naked. And I hope she thinks I look better naked than a dead woman.”

“It was one-way glass, and I was on the inside and she was on the outside. She was looking at me with the confidence of a woman who knows she won’t be scrutinized for scrutinizing me, and I was looking at her like I normally look at myself—though she probably thought I was staring at her breasts. Well, can you blame me? I had a stain on my shirt—and she had great tits.”

“She looked like the kind of woman I could fall in love with. Trouble is, she was standing next to the kind of woman I’d like to make love to. 
”

“I like farm salmon. I like the idea of fish growing on trees.”