When I battle wits with Jarod Kintz I always feel like I need to take my brain out to give him a transplant. Bad part is we don't have any.

When Jarod Kintz gets married, I want to wear his grandpa to the ceremony, telling everyone we're Siamese twins from the future-past. Meow.

If I were offering hip replacement services I'd use Jarod Kintz as my spokesman. No one can possibly be better than him, to replace the missing spoke in your wheels.

My grandpa, unlike Jarod Kintz, was an Elder. Now that he's dead and gone, he's a ghost French wizard. And no one knows what French wizards are good at…

If Jarod Kintz was a cat, he'd stalk people silently and deadly. Right now, all he does is bark at them for no good reason, like all the good people do.

And I will wait for Jarod to work for me. For free, cause if it's paid, it's work and not love, unless, of course he loves to work, in which case he’ll surely love working for me, because I love people who love to do that to love to do that.