“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.”

“The engine of my car is so powerful I could wash dishes under the hood. But that’d be pretty absurd, since I keep the dishwasher in the trunk.”

“I told her she should come back to my place because it’d just won sixth place in the Living Room Olympics, and sixth place is like double bronze.”

“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.”

“She said, “You disgust me. How do you live with yourself?” So I said, “Like I live with my clone: with many pats on the back, accompanied by high flattery.”

“My hands fell asleep, so I washed them with hot coffee. Then I had donuts for breakfast, by way of spinning circles in my car and burning rubber in the parking garage of my office building.”