“Instead of a motorcycle gang, I’m thinking of starting up a unicycle gang. We’ll be hell on wheel. (My first recruit will be a woman named Helen Wiel.)”

“When I was in the second grade, I used to think love was the feeling a man gets while riding a motorcycle and having a woman embrace him tightly from behind. Maybe I’m cynical now, but I’m starting to think love is a unicycle with a flat tire.”

“Back in high school, I started a gang called “The Illiterates.” To easily identify fellow gang members, we all wore letterman jackets.”

“I’d rather ride a unicorn than a unicycle. But my enemies, they could all ride a unicycle with a horn instead of a seat.”

“I’m thinking of changing my name to “Son of Manana.” Of course it isn’t accurate, because I’m the father of yesterday.”

“I don’t have a motorcycle, but I do have a picture of a motorcycle helmet. And a photo of a half-eaten Big Mac from 2004. I know, I’m an adrenaline junky.”

“I’m a dyslexic dancer. Instead of leading the women, I follow. Quick, cab driver, follow that woman!”