I am special. I mean, in the same way we all are. So in that way, I guess I’m not that special. Also, I’m not special.

Love is circular, like a clothing rack bar that’ll soon be full of FREE clothes for the needy, and it makes everyone feel warm.

Just about the only time I’ll interrupt you is if you say something meme-able, and then I’ll stop you then and there and insist you tweet what you just said, before your idea floats off into the ether and is lost to humanity forever.

Walmart’s building structure is designed like a medieval fortress. Or a modern prison.

Is there any other answer for who is your favorite author besides Jarod Kintz? I think not, and I think not because I think.

I like donating money and time to feed and clothe Christ, because that’s what I’m really doing when I’m charitable with my fellow man in need.

I saved up my fingernail clippings for years, just so I could one day glue them all over your car, in a gesture of love, but I got impatient with my collection halfway through and poured them in a Taco Bell burrito to try to get my money back after ordering.

In my dream last night Chris asked me to take a pic of him and his girl on the beach, so I did. While I was framing the shot, the blue sky behind him filled up with chemtrails, and those white lines became animated and formed fierce creatures, huge beasts, and massive men, and they all moved violently like warriors, while they kept chanting, “Christ is coming back soon. Prepare.” I filmed it all, and I could watch it on my phone, but it would not upload to Twitter or YouTube. And when I showed it to Chris, he could not see anything but blue sky, just like on the beach he had no idea, and he said, “Jarod, it’s all in your mind!” The mind can’t see if the heart is blind. Then it hit me: Every day I look up at the sky and see the sky and that’s it, disregarding the obvious poisonous chemtrails, and I am oblivious to what’s really going on in the first heaven in the spiritual realm.

Negative 33 plus 33 is a math equation all the Luciferians should ponder, because they live in a counterfeit world of fake money, fake news, fake food, and fake salvation, which means they will get zeroed out.

If you want to train with Olympians, you’d better be doing doubles every day, and with that champion grind mentality, why would it be any different for a charity? You hustle, sweat, push yourself until you vomit, you laugh and wipe your mouth, and you hit it again harder.

Can coffee reduce the chances of getting Alzheimer’s? I forget, because this java is distractingly tasty.

The neighborhood has become the nay-bore-hood, as nobody says anything other than no to helping another in need.

My heart is a fuel pump, pulsing blood and love. The blood is for me, and the love is for you.

I just met with cardiologist Dr. Corazonamor, and my fears were confirmed. Turns out that my chest doesn’t actually contain a heart, and instead it holds a half a loaf of leftover meatloaf. This explains why I am so romantic, and why I get invited to all the Tupperware parties.

When the doctor told me I didn’t have heart problems, but only because I didn’t actually have a heart, as my body has been running off of leftover meatloaf since birth, I could have either cried or offered a Buffet of Love, and for $19.95 you can taste my decision.

HeArt. He is The Creator, and we are all made with love.

My heart is a volcano, and I want to burn your flesh with all of my love. How does next Tuesday work for you?

A garden of love grows in my heart, and all the flowers are for you.

A garden of love grows in my heart, and all the flowers are for you. If you act now, they are ON SALE for Buy One, Get Twelve FREE.

#HeartsOfTheOzarks just have more love to offer.

People always ask me, “What makes you such an exceptional lover? Were you born with a profound sense of romance?” And my answer is simply yes. But luckily for you, it can be taught, and if you buy right now you’ll not only get my complete course, but also a FREE cuddle session.

Yesterday most of the power was knocked out in Branson, and there was no storm, so everyone is wondering what happened. Well, I’m to blame, and I’d like to apologize for the inconvenience. It’s no mystery. I was thinking about you, and my heart pulsing with love crashed the grid.

I’m sorry I crashed the local economy when my passionate heart took down Branson’s power grid, but I’m not sorry for loving you with such ferocious magnitude.

Love is a garden, and if you want it to grow, you have to get a little dirty. I like it when you get dirty with me.

The way the country roads swoop from side to side, and glide up and down in the rolling hills of The Ozarks, reminds me of our winding romance in the windy moments, because no matter where this road goes, it’s taking us home.

I’m a self-taught dentist who’s just unearthed a rusty pickaxe, and if you schedule a teeth cleaning, you’ll have to bring your own seat belt, because the chair you’ll be sitting in is loosely bolted down to the car I’ll be driving while performing your operation.

I want everybody to know they can and should be their own Love Therapist, but what I don’t want people to know is that I have yet to book a customer for my teeth cleaning service, and I’d be willing to do it for FREE, if someone would just pay me. Don’t be weird. Sign up today!

Our love is pure like the breeze in The Ozarks, and though I can’t see it, I can feel it, and that fires up all my other senses and torches my soul with desire.

Christ fed the body so people wouldn’t be hungry and distracted, and would be able to hear him when he fed their soul. He did the one so He could do the other.

I remember schoolwork. I hated it, so one day, in the fourth grade, I said, “Mrs. Higgleswigglesworth, I don’t like your condescending demeanor, I’m outta here! I’m going to work in a @Nike factory for twelve hours a day at $14 a week, and I don’t need your oppressive propaganda!”

Everyone deserves to be recognized, even invisible people. Invisible and silent and odorless people are people too!

If there are only 11 megacities in The Illuminati’s near-future plans for America, how will they fit all the people in them? Easy. They will murder most of the population. I’ll be sobbing over the fact that you never made it to safety in The Ozarks, but I did try to warn you.

I’ve been taking do-it yourself Open Heart Surgery classes from world-famous cardiologist Dr. Corazonamor, and he recommends I practice on at least one person before I perform the operation on myself. So, who would like to have Open Heart Surgery? It’ll be FUN! Only $19.95.

Why am I offering Open Heart Surgery operations for ONLY $19.95? Simple: Because my heart has so much love to give. Also there’s the fact that I’ve never done one before, and so there’s a good chance I may forget to put your heart back in before I close up your chest.

According to my cardiologist, my heart is shaped like a volcano, only instead of hot lava, I pump out love, which is much more powerful. Hawaii keeps calling me to working out a tourism package deal, with my exotic love for you being the main attraction.

My last cardiologist said my heart problems are due to the fact that I love too hard, but I disagreed and so I fired him. This has negatively impacted the performance of my Toyota Camry, because my last cardiologist was also my car mechanic.

I’ve never ever been Employee of The Month. I know, this probably comes as a BIG surprise to you.

Don’t ever invite me out to eat off the Dollar Menu at McDonald’s. First off that’s just gross, and two, that one dollar is 1/17th of an ounce of silver, and I’d much rather spend my fake money buying real money than buying fake food.

I know someone who died of a broken heart. At least that’s what I hope the autopsy report shows, because I don’t have an alibi for that person’s last moment on earth.

When I go deep-sea fishing, I always use the best bait to attract the big sharks: Bloody politicians. They can just smell the corruptability and start circling.

When pastors use anything other than the King James Bible, I consider it ignorant at best, and deceptively evil at worst.

They say there’s a tornado moving into town. I want to know what it’s paying for rent, and what kind of landlord was crazy enough to accept it as a tenant.

Papa Bush is dead. Or so they say. If it’s true, it’s a Yay! Day.

If Papa Bush is a shapeshifting reptilian, how do we know he died a frail, old man? Maybe the old body was a gimmick, and when not shapeshifting in that skinsuit he’s vibrant and young from all the adrenochrome.

Branson and all of The Ozarks are under a tornado warning, and it’s not even the season for those, so people are worried. But it’s OK, it’s just all my love for you swirling around with full passion, and I promise to not let my feelings sweep you off your feet and into the sky.

I just took a Federal Reserve in your toilet, and I think I may have clogged it forever.

I am very sad that Papa Bush died. I wish he were still alive so we could execute him for Crimes Against Humanity.

Sometimes, when the front desk girls call down, I pick up the phone before Wendell can answer and I say, “Wendell speaking. On a One To Ten Scale, how much are you in love with me?” Of course, I say the same thing when I answer the phone as myself, but I love it more as Wendell.

To me, meme warfare is the physical manifestation of spiritual warfare, and you are being attacked whether you know it or not. So when I meet people, my goal is to seduce with The Truth, to artfully shift paradigms using both my mind (understanding) and my heart (wisdom).

Truth is best delivered in joke format, and like a lion I wait for the perfect moment to strike, because when I see it I seize it without hesitation, and the effect is devastating on false paradigms.

America’s economy is stronger than ever, and you can see the proof of this in our record levels of suicide.

Some of the same people who eat at McDonald’s (fake food), save dollars (fake money), and watch CNN or Fox News (fake news), also read the NIV (fake bible) and think they have a real relationship with God.

What else would you expect from a place that calls itself the “Land of The Free,” but has the highest incarceration rate in the world?

Paramedics in France are protesting? I am so sorry! I didn’t realize my love for you broke all the defibrillators way over there, too! I’ll try to keep my romantic heart pulses under control.

Paris, The City of Love, is burning, just like heart is on fire for you. There’s a riot in my chest, and its cause is my desire for you.

Paris may be The City of Love, but The Ozarks are The Place of Romance. And you know this because that’s where I live.

I love new potatoes. They’re much better than old potatoes. I also love new potatoes. They’re much better than russet potatoes.

Ah, dating apps. I can’t swipe too quickly these days, because there are a lot of men pretending to be women, preying on men who should be doing less sexting and more praying.

Coupons and nudes in one shopping catalog. Just an idea for you to run with, especially if you’re on a treadmill.

Are Branson tourists cheap, or are they stupid? It’s a trick question, because they are BOTH!

What’s more profitable than buying low and selling high? Not buying at all, and selling something you stole. Maybe these shoplifting grannies that visit Branson with sticky mittens all have eBay resales businesses.

Creeping through Branson Lights after sneaking in, one of the light displays is out, and I feel cheated, even though this was FREE to me.

I’ve never eaten marijuana edibles, but if marijuana gives you the munchies, wouldn’t eating marijuana lead you to eat more marijuana in a never-ending binge cycle?

I just got done knitting you some warm socks. They may tickle your armpits a little, but they should conform to the shape of your legs and torso. Souvenir shops all over Branson will probably want to sell them when they see how stylish you look in them.

I think the 2019 World Knitting Championship should be held in Branson, Missouri, because I’d like to be the Hometown Hero who finally takes down undefeated Edna Baker.

I’ve been training all year for my eventual knitting showdown with the legendary Edna Baker. She’s built like a bodybuilder, and I once tried to buy her mustache twice so I could wear both on my forehead and have fiercer eyebrows.

There is shit on the screens of all the kiosks in every McDonald’s? There is filthy symmetry in that, because all the food in every McDonald’s is shit, too.

I always feel good after I tell someone a hard truth, even if they reject the message.