“Try my all-you-can-eat vomit soup. Sadly, people don’t want seconds, because they don’t even want firsts. But it tastes great. I tasted it on the way down—and then again on the way up.”

“Love has boundaries, like a map, and I guess that makes me a cartographer. Don’t take this the wrong way, but you’re too topographical for my taste.”

“A sample may taste better than the whole, because it’s meant for a taste test, which is perceptually expected to garner favorable results. This is why I can’t give you all my love. Plus, you don’t have a container big enough to hold all my love.”

“I eat fog soup (out of a can). You don’t think I make it fresh, do you? You don’t need a spoon or straw to enjoy it—you need a pipe to inhale it.”

“Life’s like brown sugar sprinkled on shit. Sure it tastes great, if you don’t mind the smell.”

“I’m working hard to edit my book, so I can get it up for sale so that nobody can rush out and buy it. Hurry and purchase! You don’t want to be the first one to not be the first one.”

“You can share in my joy, but I don’t want to share my misery. No, I want to give away my misery. Go ahead, take it all.”