[Top 50] Haiku Pick Up Lines Guarantee To Impress!

[Top 50] Haiku Pick Up Lines Guarantee To Impress! 1

Was your Dad a thief?
Socioeconomic
obstacles are tough.
I like your curves. Take
wide right turns? Your silhouette
belongs on mud flaps.
Nice cosplay, Princess,
but you’re looking for love in
Alderaan places.
If we gardened, girl,
I’d plant my tulips and your
tulips together.
Do you know what my
shirt is made of? Boy-
friend Material.
Do you clean your pants
with Windex? That’s a bizarre
OCD habit.
Hey, Girl. Let’s go out.
I won’t call. The NSA
will pA$$ this along.
Feeling bad? West Nile?
Girl, seems like you came down with
the Best Smile Virus.
Were you in Girl Scouts?
You tie my heart in knots.? I
tagalong, half-hitched.
My chances with you,
infinitesimally
smaller than your heels.
I wanna lick, lick,
lick, lick you from your head to
your toes. (Metaphor.)
Let’s go Eighties Mall
Style—your hand, my back pocket.
And mine? Vice versa.
“There was an error
processing your request?” Who
are you, Tumblr?
Your eyes, they sparkle.
Our chemistry like bombs. The
fallout…fireworks.
My Resolution?
You and me don’t leave ‘til we
exchange some kisses.
Should auld acquaintance
be forgot? In the morning?
Post-breakfast? New year…
This place is full of
pseudointellectuals.
Let’s go tip some cows.
Ouch! Your feet must be
tired. Because your heels are
ridiculous stilts.
Here’s your present. It’s
a Rick In A Box. “Never
gonna give you up…”
I take your picture?
I need to show Santa what
I want for Christmas.
‘Twas the night before
Christmas and all through the house…
your discarded clothes.
You’re a clA$$y girl;
I’d like to stuff your stockings
full of dollar bills.
Tickets to the gun
show? I’ll sell you a seat, but
you’ll just need the edge.
You must be tired…
because parking is mad hard
in this neighborhood.
Opportunity!
Want to make millions?
Millions of babies?
Hej! We could plan some
beautiful Ikea rooms
together. Hex wrench?
No, I don’t have a
Tumblr blog of men’s outfits.
I’m a normal boy.
Your Farmer’s Tan, the
stuff of lakeside dreams. I vote
you Marina Queen.
Stand by, future mile
high lady. How ‘bout we lay
over at my place?
Was your father a
baker? I’m just curious
about your family.
I thought all the good
domain names were taken, but
you’re thebomb.com
You really can’t stay?
But baby it’s cold outside.
Human Blanket Time.
I know that milk does
a body good, but damn girl…
how much did you drink?
You be the tree, and
I’ll wrap around you, like a
burly koala.
I want your digits.
Don’t worry—I can’t call you.
I have an iPhone.
Bend with your knees, not
with your back. Don’t hurt yourself
picking up my jaw.
Your buns, my grill, we’ll
make a patriotic meal.
Please pA$$ the relish.
My fellow Whole Foods
connoisseur, how your lack of
hairy legs intrigues.
Your eyes are ocean
blue, maritime maelstrom. I’m
lost at sea, buoyant.
I would convert to
Pentecostal just so I
could lay hands on you.
Bread, milk, apples, cheese,
sugar, please, I wanna bag
you like groceries.
I’m lovesick, baby.
Your kiss is my cure. Don’t be
so anti-body.
If we were breakfast…
You—gravy. And me? Flakey
biscuits, sopping you.
The curve of your spine,
like a well-read library
book that I check out.
Girl, if I was a
lumberjack, that would make you
a lumberjack’s wife.
You seem so sturdy;
your frame, fit to bear children
and work my farmlands.