If you're an ant and you're walking across the top of a cup of pudding, you probably have no idea that the only thing between you and disaster is the strength of that pudding skin. I wish my name was Todd, because then I could say, "Yes, my name's Todd. Todd Blankenship." Oh, I also wish my last name was Blankenship.
If you lived in the Dark Ages, and you were a catapult operator, I bet the most common question people would ask is, "Can't you make it shoot farther?" No. I'm sorry. That's as far as it shoots.
I'm not afraid of insects taking over the world, and you know why? It would take about a billion ants just to aim a gun at me, let alone fire it. And you know what I'm doing while they're aiming at me? I just sort of slip off to the side, and then suddenly run up and kick the gun out of their hands.
I think there probably should be a rule that if you're talking about how many loaves of bread a bullet will go through, it's understood that you mean lengthwise loaves. Otherwise, it makes no sense.
If you go through a lot of hammers each month, I don't think it necessarily means you're a hard worker. It may just mean that you have a lot to learn about proper hammer maintenance.
Instead of raising your hand to ask a question in class, how about individual pushbuttons on each desk? That way, when you want to ask a question, you just push the button and it lights up a corresponding number on a tote board at the front of the class. Then all the professor has to do is check the lighted number against a master sheet of names to see who is asking the question.
If any man says he hates war more than I do, he better have a knife, that's all I have to say.
As the light changed from red to green to yellow and back to red again, I sat there thinking about life. Was it nothing more than a bunch of honking and yelling? Sometimes it seemed that way.
During the Middle Ages, probably one of the biggest mistakes was not putting on your armor because you were "just going down to the corner."
How come the dove gets to be the peace symbol? How about the pillow? It has more feathers than the dove, and it doesn't have that dangerous beak.
If you ever drop your keys into a river of molten lava, let ‘em go, because, man, they're gone.