“My car rides smooth like I’m driving a cloud. If I park it at your house, I may get rainwater on your living room carpet.”

“Growing up, my bedroom was like a garage, only much smaller and with more lawnmowers in it (we had to store them there because the garage was crowded with the 14-person dining room table—despite there being only four of us in the house). I’m just thankful my parents didn’t park their cars in the living room.”

“I want a house with a garage, so someone from the government won’t try to park a tank in my living room.”

“I want to buy a sports car, because I like riding bicycles. Hold on to my handlebar mustache if you value your life.”

“Now that parking meters have shifted from quarters to credit cards, I worry someone will steal my identity, my wallet, and my car and drive around town parking all over the place.”

“The car wash sign said, “Free Vacuums.” So I told them I wanted a high-powered Dyson. I figured it’d be a good gift for my girl, so she could stop sweeping the living room carpet.”

“A car is a couch with wheels. My windshield wipers don’t work, so I’ve decided to stop watering my living room carpet. Honk if you want coffee, and I’ll pour you an umbrellaful.”