“I’m reminded of Orville Tethington, inventor of the world’s first steam-powered fog machine. He’s also the guy who, after the Germans invented the flame thrower in WWI, decided to counteract it with his own creation, the candle thrower. The candle thrower was only battle tested once, and after fifteen minutes the war zone was littered with lit candles. Upon returning home after the war, some of the soldiers suffered such extreme and bizarre cases of PTSD that anytime a civilian lit a match or used their lighter, the soldiers would hit the ground and start singing “Happy Birthday.”

“Instead of selling other countries weapons, we should sell them candles. Maybe then instead of singing the praises of war, they’d start singing Happy Birthday. And I don’t know anybody, not even my bully of an uncle, Uncle Sam, who wants to start a fight during that song.”

“An ideal first date should involve things like a candle-lit dinner, soft music, and a binary anal defibrillator, with a guest appearance by Renaldo.”

“It’s not lit, it’s literature. Lit is something a book can be, after you’ve decided to burn it. (I suggest you start the fire with my book.)”

“A candle that smells like asshole would be an instant hit in prison.”

“I invented an invisible machine to help you get to sleep. It only works after your eyes stay shut for a length of time. It’s also so quiet that you won’t hear it.”

“Birthdays, like women named Bertha, are not named after great Aunt Natalie. But you, Natalie, just might be. I’m named after my uncle Birthday, who never had one since he died in the womb.”