Jarod Kintz Quotes

American absurdist humor author

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Jarod Kintz is an American author of absurdist humor, known for self-published collections of surreal one-liners and random thoughts. His prolific, often meta-titled works include "This Book is Not for Sale," "99 Cents for Some Nonsense," and "This Book Title is Invisible," published largely through Amazon Kindle. Widely quoted online for his deadpan, nonsensical voice, he describes himself as a writer, absurdist, and duck farmer based in the American South.

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If I were a magician, I’d hand out broken compasses. It’s all about misdirection.

A wink and a smirk walk into a bar, and the bartender asked them what they were drinking, when all of the sudden a mustache in a cowboy hat riding a vagina runs through the door, and right there I have to stop the joke, because not only does it not have a punch line, but that punch line was kidnapped, and if it’s ever found, it will probably be rated Not Safe For Work.

I've been trying to start a garage band for over a decade now, but father won't move his car.

Love speaks to the heart like a mime to a mute.

I am the washing machine of love. And if you have no idea what I mean, maybe it’s time to let some laundry into your life.

If you work in a hospital, you can’t easily fake call in sick to work. Oh, you’re sick? Well why don’t you come in to work and we’ll have a look at it.

A door shaped like a vagina is more inviting. Sure, I’ll come in, but not slouched over. Allow me to straighten up before I enter.

She’s twelve hours in the future, and exactly half a world away. No matter how hard I try, I will always be a part of her past.

My feet are dense with dance. I move like I’m wearing concrete boots and I’m trying to tread water. If the music is salsa, I may start gargling.

You’re used to being the smartest guy in the room. Solitary confinement will do that.

To be surrounded by sixty people who make your life miserable is to be at a family reunion. But to be surrounded by 600,000 people who make the whole world miserable is to live in Washington DC.

I’ll tug at your breasts like a thirsty child. Try not to burn your nipples in my hot coffee. While you’re at it, I also like sugar in my coffee.

I don’t demand much. All I expect is for you to love me so much you kill yourself just to get my attention.

All men are created Equal. Some just have more Splenda.

My love may be invisible, but that doesn’t mean you can’t taste it. (It tastes like a sonic boom, only not as bitter).