Andy Hollinden

A rocker’s what I used to be. Now it’s where I sit.

Give me a hand, not the finger.

I hope I get that fortune-teller job.

Beware horny messiahs.

Turn up the hot or turn down the cold.

Ate some dim sum in some dim café.

The hyenas just stopped laughing.

I got the tariff, but I did not pay the penalty.

A public apology to all the slugs I’ve ever salted.

My bass is eclectic, and my guitar is agnostic.

Don’t be so quick with the penalty honk.

Piano killed the harpsichord star.

I’m just the right amount whelmed.

There’s no appreciable difference between an enema bag and douchebag. No need to buy both.

I sip her liquor from a rubber snifter.

We were just discussing how your cussing is disgusting.

I wish I hadn’t invented the time machine.

Let live in peace those who are like you the least.

Ascertainment is not as exciting as it sounds.

I was a fool. I acted aloof. I bought a loofa.

Trust me, they’re not ready to not believe.

Jodhpurs bring relief to the big-butted man.

I won a trophy. Now I atrophy.

Hate feels like power to the fearful.

Pauper’s got a brand-new beg.

I only want part of the shebang.

Massive cracks stress dress slacks.

My cuss word vocabulary hasn’t really grown much since high school.

My lucky underwear’s getting too threadbare to wear anymore. However, I believe I can salvage enough material to make a small, stuffed doll.

Just do it? Sometimes just don’t.

Putting a cucumber on the lathe isn’t as good an idea as it sounds.

Dear writers of cookbooks, I never, ever have cheesecloth.

I’m tired of big things posing as art.

We went way higher. Things went haywire.

I like my cheese like I like my women – room temperature and sweaty.

It’s no bonus, this onus on us.

I pity your plunger.

You’re a part of everything, not apart from everything.

I smell the Ghost of Nachos Past in the microwave.

You don’t want to be at the nexus of the shit talk.

Should’ve bought earwax-colored bath towels.

Gray hair may not be very rock ‘n’ roll, but neither is going to the beauty parlor to have it died freakishly dark.

How bad must it get before you quit?

Even in my dreams, I'm faithful.

My flabber is thoroughly gasted.

Dear movie industry, tires don’t squeal on dirt roads.

You can tell by my hickies she’s a necromancer.

Every single day is some dumb anniversary of some damn thing.

I wish all the lettuces in a baby spring mix would at least rot at the same rate.

My brain just released a morphine-like substance.

Shitty is the new good.

Stink unto others as you would have them stink unto you.

I fear cannibals would find my meat sinewy.

Sing a plasma psalm.

Seems like it should be time for something.

Air so thick, I feel like a fish.

I’m eating a star-spangled nanner.

Wondering about the worries of the weatherman.

The most ignorant are the most indignant.

My cooties are doozies.

Finding it hard to accept that my pills taste bad.

Don’t put the carrot where a rabbit won’t go.

Sales are slow at the Slaw Shack.

I’m reading a book about how to develop street smarts.

Don’t re-gift those crabs.

Go Cialis when she’s ten feet tall.

Sit in the sweet spot.

Chiggers find my crotch enchanting.

I’m at my all-time sighing high.

Don’t wait for something bad. Pray for me continually.

Wondering how many times a Pip has gone “Woo-woo!” over the last 40 years.

Not finding support for my Dinky Bang theory.

I hope we don’t go mad and fight to the death.

I don’t think that mantis is really praying.

I so propyl. Disinfect you long time!

Listening to “Cellulite Of Love’ from Lou Reed’s Trans Fat album.

Hats off to the maggots.

You’re set in stone. I’m not.

It whistles when you blow across the hole.

Don’t sniff things that scare you.

Can’t decide: Conniption or hissy?

The MRI shows I have unusually high activity in the area of the brain that controls whistling.

Lovers love love.

I’m no tall tale teller. Just ask Mick Jagger.

Meet the new prof. Same as the old prof. We don’t get schooled again!

I’ve always resisted box kites.

Awaiting your return, December blubber.

There’s a madness to his meth head.

Listening to “Loogie Loogie” by The Phlegmsmen.

Lately, my flowing juices have not been overly creative.

I’m watching the voyeurs.

Hey, Mr. Submarine man, make a lunch for me.

No use for pews.

May I die with a handful of candy.

I never claimed to be from Nantucket.

Normal feels great coming after terrible.

I learned the hard way that Butter Nutsquash was not a menu typo.

Don’t dance around in your mommy’s toupee.

I’m inwardly apoplectic.

Differ at dinner, and you suffer for supper.

Starting to think 96 isn’t a real position.

I won’t lick your wall of salt.

Once again, the idea was more pleasant than its realization.

Why’s that one whore soapin’ her sleigh?

So send in the stupid clowns already.

Maniacally row the boat ashore.

I never once punched a punching bag.

You need to know what you want.

If you’re lonely, you’re not alone.

Is it good that I won’t take no for an answer?

Your associations may be based on faulty memories.

My pen is irascible.

Exfoliating is so exacerbating.

He said with chagrin as he wiped off his chin…

Beware the bashful shyster.

Popper’s got a brand new zit.

May jerks get comeuppance.

Listening to “Bad Complexion” by Joan Jett and the Blackheads.

Here come begrudge!

Vit, vit, vit goes the corduroy jogger.

I’ll buy a big cow that we both can milk.

No one wants jalopy cock.

It’s still my birthday as long as there’s leftover cake.

I wish I’d hoped harder.

You’re lucky I can’t fart through the phone.

The crumbs are laden with bold flavor powder.

I got a blister from kissing your sister.

Traded my ham radio for a sausage TV.

Dust never sweeps.

Chin-ups are easy on the moon.

Caught a glimpse of the pimps gliding by in their blimps.

Poke till juice runs clear.

Long hair brings joy to the big-eared boy.

My tater is a tuber, and my goober, a legume.

When I am God, there’ll be no chiggers.

When I don’t observe it, this peanut behaves like a wave.

Can’t recall where I hid my agenda.

He’d give you the shirt off his back, but he has awful taste in shirts.

Ate the weird, spongy ice cream off the bottom of the lid.

I don’t care for Jimmy’s corn cracking.

Don’t grow grotesque testicles.

I’m no good at assessing my weaknesses.

Honesty is not guilt-free criticism.

I’ve misplaced the napkin on which I jotted the solution to mankind’s problems.

Listening to “Green Christmas” by Bong Crosby.

Don’t pop the stink sack.

And an onion for my companion.

I reckon we should reconcile.

Be cool to your mule.

I underestimate about 2% of the time.

They only win if you care about losing.

I’m told I should stop taking advice.

They sacrifice the placebo group.

Beware the flatulent fat.

Baby has a bullhorn, for crying out loud.

Being impressionable, I was impressed.

I fear I’ll fall down the stairs and run this toothbrush out the back of my neck.

I eat ovum from ovaries over easy.

I was lyin’ ‘bout likin’ the lamb out at the inn.

How many times can I enjoy this simple pleasure before it becomes a problem?

I’ve got crackers in my knickers and a Snickers in my crack.

There’s no woogie in this boogie.

Butterscotch chip, you’ve been unfairly overshadowed by your chocolate brother.

I sent my rover to investigate her moons.

Clouds look like the ground when you’re flying upside down.

Someday I’ll be glad my nature is to delay gratification.

I can’t get the hang of noose tying.

Overcome your inner pigdog.

Doughnuts and insoles: Two places I like jelly.

I’m not putting up with you putting me down for putting out.

Tragic news: The bonbon deliveryman has died.

I’m awaiting a wax paper renaissance.

Turns out dirt isn’t cheap after all.

She took a peek at the check and gave me a peck on the cheek.

I gesticulate as I culminate.

Don’t ostracize the oddball.

I feel yesterday’s key ring change in today’s thumbnail.

Will you be my yes man?

Monkey sea, monkey dew.

They have hash in heaven?

Rednecks with blue balls and blackheads.

I’m a fan of moving air.

Orange roughy and a lemon smoothie.

My nipples are paralyzed.

Saw you sip a cup of soy sauce.

I secretly listen to leaves dropping.

Candy cane for sale: Mint condition.

I breathe through secret gills.

Don’t like the devil, but I sure love his eggs.

If there’s a difference, I’m entitled to a preference.

She sees Jesus in cheeses.

It’s easy to say you want to go out Friday night when it’s Tuesday afternoon.

Dark men from Denmark.

Whisper breaths of breathing.

You bring the mongoose. I’ll bring the snake.

Stop and smoke the roses.

Boxer cows chew bloody cud.

You never reach a point where it ever really stops.

Death before diapers.

These shoes are on their last legs.

Murphy’s law is for suckers.

Other foods are jealous of pizza.

It’s time for my daily mailbox disappointment.

I wish some one liked me as much as I like Zappa.

Cashews put up the right resistance.

You don’t see many February frogs.

Everyone stank in the past.

Someone flung some dung in my lung and it stung.

Don’t let the pendulum swing back and settle.

Your camera makes me shudder.

See if I can see the minute hand move.

I don’t like how people like to act like they don’t know how to act.

Absinthe makes the heart grow fonder.

Flush Australian clocks.

I can’t tell you how many times I’ve wished I’d learned to count.

No one wants the ugly butler.

Dropped my duvet in the bidet.

Keep cannibals away from cannabis.

My foot is loose, but my freedom’s not so fancy.

It’s better when you’re good. Please be that.

We chitchat ‘bout shit we shat.

Honk if you drive better than everyone else.

Hip adductors are sore from crushing watermelons with my thighs.

Do you like the taste of lies?

You’ve got some nerve, red delicious.

I tire of having tested my ability to ignore.

I’m sorry I gave you the role of forgiver.

Baptismal was dismal, and the circumcision circumspect.

The suppository method does not apply to foodstuffs.

I miss the old gas-powered eels.

She said, “Be wilder.” I was bewildered.

Can’t eat cookie. Belly fulla dough.

My violet just shrank.

She didn’t need me, so she kneed me.

I keep my tears in the shed and my lips in a purse.

My nipples are introverts.

Tapioca isn’t cowed by pudding.

Watcha dreaming, Sleep Frowner?

If I had a time machine, I’d save Jimi.

She was jumping like a whistle pea, and I just stood there like a sundial.

You’ll have to do, Indiana sushi.

I slept through the wake.

My blood likes cinnamon.

Beethoven was a better composer than me, but I’ve had way better luck with women.

My rocking chair toilet invention is presenting unforeseen challenges.

I’m sick of living healthy.

Who you gonna look to when you outgrow your guru?

Geddy’s burka dress.

I think my laptop is jealous of my new phone.

Tired of exerting and exuding.

When you ask me about predictions, I’ll say I don’t like making them.

Which way to the fork store?

Recalling grade school textbook booby doodles.

I feel sorry for Santa’s first wife.

Jumpin’ Jack Flash is aghast.

For the life of me, I just can’t seem to stumble upon a fortune, even though I’m totally deserving.

Am I under your empathy umbrella?

He said, “Do as I say, not as I do.” So I told him what to do.

Go piss off a precipice.

My demons need to exercise.

I’ve almost reached a state of permanent gazpacho.

Park by the cart kiosk. You’ll be glad later.

Clocks don’t breathe.

It’s best to be the same height as the cane maker.

Seedless watermelon, my ass.

I need a smaller hole in my hourglass.

Oh, Clementine, why can’t your citrus sisters peel as fine as you?

Keep away from Reacharound Stu.

Turns out the brothel doesn’t sell broth.

We Teen Kings of Orbison are.

It is my God-given right to hit a snare drum with a cucumber.

You clog my drain. Look up the plumber.

I don’t want to be on that planet where it rains glass sideways.

Accept that you will be forgotten.

I think some people have a different definition of “pissing contest.”

The experiment failed. A hummingbird will not sip sugar water out of my ear.

I didn’t know they said what you don’t know can’t hurt you.

Thanks for sharing your donkey.

I’m a hatch down battener.

Eating a Pita Crisp. Didn’t he used to play drums for Kiss?

But I don’t dance when nobody’s watching.

My prune is plum dry.

I roll my eyes at rock stars in race cars.

Prove that you even have pudding.

Big crow convention down at deer carcass.

Don’t lick the squid.

I pawned my pants.

Somebody pooped in the wishing well.

Watched a fidgety dude play the didgeridoo.

Got them dumb old doldrums.

Systemic societal problems caused by toxic masculinity.

OK, don’t. But she just might leave you for someone who will.

I stink therefore I am.

Pap’s got a brand new smear.

They say the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach, but for me it was up through a groin vein.

I’m honest but not forthcoming.

If you find a woman who loves to do yard work, marry her.

Starting to wonder if it’s worth the effort to ensure each bowl contains exactly 750 Cheerios.

Believe you me, I kid you not.