Of course, I realize it’s not normal for that particular body part to suddenly put on weight, but I know my body and I was certain I was suffering from Obese Brain Syndrome.
So I decided to weigh the offending organ.
This was a task I could not undertake on my own. While I was completely capable of opening the old skull hatch and unscrewing my gray matter from the brain stem, once it came time for the disconnect I needed assistance.
And that, Modern Philosophers, is why I tolerate all the shenanigans by my interns. They might drive me up the wall most of the time, but when I need them to take the wheel on an emergency brain removal, I know they can be trusted.
Once they wash their hands.
The intern with weird laugh took charge. He’s a little odd, but I trust him way more than the intern with the tiny eyes and the one with too many tattoos.
Weird laugh videotaped the entire procedure for me, just in case I needed it for insurance purposes, and I could see for myself that when he put my brain on the bathroom scale, it was three pounds heavier than the last time I weighed it.
Yes, Modern Philosophers, I weigh brain regularly. Don’t you keep a Brain Journal?
Why was my brain so fat? Do I burn calories in my brain by thinking about exercising? If I clear my mind of all bad thoughts, will my brain reclaim its girlish figure?
I bet Einstein had a fat brain. My theory is that he had that crazy hairstyle to distract people from how chunky his brain was getting in its old age.
No, I’m not comparing myself to Einstein. I just really wanted to use that photo of him in this post.
I’m not a brain surgeon, but I do wear a toga, so I’m concerned that my brain has gotten plumped up on negative thoughts and wishful thinking.
It’s either that, or there’s an Alien fetus growing inside my brain.
Both theories work for me. However, anytime I think about the Alien flicks or Sigourney Weaver, I feel a kick inside my skull.
So now I’m leaning towards the Alien baby theory.
Which scares me because I’m not ready to be a father. Is that cowardly of me? Should I just man up and prepare myself for fatherhood? Even if I can’t remember who the mother of my Alien fetus is?
I suppose I could hitch a ride on the Alien Mothership that hovers miles above Bangor and get some answers or see an Alien obstetrician, but I don’t want to upset my Alien friends.
I don’t think Will Smith is in any condition to save the world at the point in his career.
I’d also hate for my Alien lovechild to grow up an orphan because of the apocalyptic war that its conception incited.
Now that I think about it, there’s no way than an Alien fetus is growing in my brain.
My brain is fat because I’ve got way too much on my mind and I’ve been working too many hours at my mindless job. Since my brain isn’t being used for those eleven hours, all the thoughts are piling up. Once I get home, I’m far too exhausted to burn off any excess pondering. Then I fall asleep and have crazy dreams, but dreams come from the brain’s AV Department, so none of those extra thoughts are used for eight more hours while I drool on the pillow and fart in my sleep.
Then I Groundhog Day it all and repeat the cycle.
My brain is fat and I have no clue as to how to begin to make it fit and trim again.
Who’s got some tips for me? Would anyone be interested in adopting an Alien baby if I decide to put mine up for adoption?
You should follow me and my fat brain on Pinterest!