Posted 12:58 PM by Brian K

From The Brain of the Giant Head

Once I Had a Twin Brother

Every family has an extended family of friends. If yours was like mine, you were all friends because all the parents had kids roughly the same age and your moms were on the PTA together and your dads helped coach your little league team to an 0-12 record. You spent the night at each other’s houses every other weekend. You went on vacation together. You were babysat by the eldest siblings of the group, and by babysat I mean being forced to watch New Kids On The Block videos. You had some of the best times of your life.

This past weekend was quite an exciting time for me. And I’m not talking about the Benjamin I dropped at the floating casino or the cop that grabbed my private parts (which I’ll talk about in next week’s column — trust me, you won’t want to miss that). I’m talking about the extended family reunion picnic I attended.

Now a few of these people I had seen from time to time at the usual festivals and restaurants and adult bookstores, but there were quite a few that had been out of my radar screen since Vanilla Ice was the King of Rap. This was my chance to see some familiar faces, albeit with facial hair and adult features.

I admit, I was a little leery at first. Nerves kicked in when I started realizing that I hadn’t seen these kids since before I had sideburns. Sure, we were all great friends, but after a decade of being apart and discovering who we were in high school, how well would we fit together now?

How close were we, you ask? Well, my family of four morphed into a family of six every summer when we signed up for our Phillips swim-club passes. Although I only have one blood-related sister, I had a younger "sister" named Tiffany "Klems" and a twin brother named Adam "Klems." We spent about everyday together for three years.

I remember riding bikes down to Howie’s baseball card shop with Adam to buy the latest edition of Beckett Baseball Card Monthly to see how much our Lance Johnson cards were worth. It was at his house I had my first viewing of Spaceballs (still one of my favorites) and Disorderlies, the Fat Boys classic.

I remember playing basketball in the Brehms’ backyard and having Adam Martinez skunk me while being a good foot shorter than my admirable size of 4’11".

I remember making the late night news with Brian Brehm, which we recorded and, to be like the pros, made commercials for. The speed stick deodorant commercial with Hulk Hogan was my personal favorite. And I remember the giant map of New England that we made, but I can’t remember why, not to mention singing the killer church song "Blest Be The Lord" while riding in the station wagon. As you can see, we were cool even when we were younger.

I remember looking up to Randy and Johnny, the 2-years-older-than-me chick magnets. I remember my plan to turn Nick into the next Mark McGuire. I remember thinking the girls were icky until age 12, then just assuming I would marry one of them. I remember little Robbie...who isn’t so little anymore.

And as I saw them all again, playing Major League Cornhole and eating enough food to feed Zimbabwe, I realized we have all grown up. We all have new dreams and new plans and new sneaker sizes. But we all have the same ability to get along, just like we did before we had driver’s licenses. And I guess that’s quite a comforting thought.

The Brain would like to thank his Mom and Dad and everyone else that helped out to make this reunion possible, including everyone that showed up. Maybe we can make it an annual event. He would also like to curse his sister for waking him up at the ungodly hour of 7:30 in the a.m. to hold the picnic tables and for rubbing it in by beating him at War. I hope the dog leaves a present in your bed.

Posted 11:42 AM by Brian K

From The Brain of the Giant Head

How Could You Hate Screech?

Every Saturday morning from fifth to eighth grade was spent exactly the same way for most kids of my generation. You woke up, ate a bowl of Cinnamon Toast Crunch, pretended to read the paper so your parents thought you were more of an adult, and then grabbed the remote and joined Zach and the gang for another valuable lesson on Saved By The Bell. It was your happiest moment of the week, save when your teacher, Ms. Oldenstick, fell and her left boob came flopping out.

While Zach and A.C. kept all the young ladies’ hearts pounding and Kelly Kapowski was hotter than warm urine on a cold day, there was always one character that set up the others for their comedy. He was the butt of every joke. He could be a bit irritating at times, but his good-hearted charm is what made him loveable.

Samuel "Screech" Powers.

You might wonder why I’m bringing this up, considering most of us haven’t watched the Bayside crew in about 10 years because we either 1) got jobs, or 2) realized that City Guys is a much better show. But the LGB found a site the other day that took me by complete surprise.

The Anti-Screech Web Page

Now while I’m not nominating Dustin Diamond for an Emmy anytime soon, I do think it’s a slightly ludicrous to devote an entire Web site to a person’s complete hatred of the curly-haired geek. This site goes so far as listing his TV Resume, pictures, his blood type and an autographed sample of his sperm. For a person that hates Screech so much, you’d think that taking the time to develop a Hate-Screech Web site would be the last thing on his mind...but you would be wrong.

Most of you, like me, understand that Screech was a WB character that somehow made it to regular network television, but when you’re 11 years old he’s the funniest thing since The Oldenstick Boob Incident. And though I’d rather get poked in the eye with a sharp stick than watch Adult Screech on Saved By The Bell: The New Class, I think back to my childhood and realize that the program is made for grade schoolers, not people with driver’s licenses.

Although I think this kid is nuts, I am a firm believer in freedom of speech and admire his initiative and rebellious attitude. Granted, my friends and I rebelled against things too, like teachers, parents, and country music, but we never had animosity toward a fictional character. Most of us were too busy trying to get the pink dye out of our hair, which, two days earlier, we thought was a great idea.

And I guess there could be worse things this kid could be doing other than picking on Samuel "Screech" Powers. He could be selling drugs or pimping prostitutes or fantasizing about Mel Gibson. Or he could’ve done the worst thing that anyone in the history of the world could ever imagine.

He could have devoted a page to Steve Eurcal.

Let’s see if we can get this kid to make another Web-site. Email him at garrettbrown@hotmail.com, copy me (fozzie007@yahoo.com) and ask him to make the "Anti-Mary Kate and Ashley Olsen Page." Maybe if enough of us send emails, he’ll do it.

Posted 12:25 PM by Brian K

From The Brain of The Giant Head

Looking At Graduation
A Year Later

Ah...graduation time again. It was only but a year ago I stood in the shoes of the millions of graduating college seniors and, for the record, my feet smelled a lot better. It was the happiest, yet most saddening time in my life. I was forever finished with homework, exams, term papers, skipping class and sleeping in till noon. I was leaving a land where I actually PAID $10 grand a year to suffer and moving into a land where I got paid $10 grand to suffer. At least the latter way I could suffer while watching my 50-inch TV. And what have I learned one year removed from the college scene?

Not a damn thing.

Sure, I can now go to the doctor all by myself, but I also have to pay for the visit out of my own pocket. I can buy all the clothes I want, but Mom no longer washes them for me. And contrary to my previous belief, I’m not eligible for the Senior Citizens Discount even though I’m the arthritic age of 23. Maybe I did learn something.

Life stinks.

At the time I was very adamant about escaping the college life that gave me a rather large beer-belly and permanent Nintendo thumb, but after one full season of bills, 6:30 wake-ups and the cancellation of Titus, I’m ready to go back.

Some of my friends just took the long walk in the cap and gown this past weekend, including the host of Will-Yee.com and of course, Authority Guru Alex. I asked the Guru a few questions dealing with college and graduation. Here’s what he had to say.

The Brain: What did you get out of college?
Authority Guru Alex: Since enrolling in college 5 years ago I have accomplished the following:

• Missed 5 years worth of good night sleeps.
  
• Developed and refined over 6,000 techniques for skipping class and getting away with it.
  
• Diligently compiled a debt consisting of tuition bills and bar tabs that rivals the national deficit.

The Brain: Are you happy to graduate?
Authority Guru Alex: Were the Jews happy when Auschwitz was liberated?
(Editor’s Note— I think that’s a ‘yes.’ I’m just impressed he could spell Auschwitz.)

The Brain: What's more impressive and why: Tito Jackson's singing career or Will graduating in just under a decade?
Authority Guru Alex: I would have to say Will's graduation amazed me more. Not to discredit Tito, but who would have ever guessed that a poor, misguided, Asian street urchin from the rough Southside of Monford Heights could ever rise out of such oppression and adversity. And, to do it in under ten years!?! UTTERLY ASTOUNDING.

The Brain: I heard you tutored him for years?
Authority Guru Alex: When I first took Will under my wing he didn't have two pennies to rub together. But, with a little tough love and some Mr. Miagi-style guidance he was able reach his full potential. I guess it just goes to show, with the help of a few Elder graduates, even the lowest of the low have a chance to make something of themselves.

What will the Authority Guru have to say a year from now once the real world smacks him around a bit? Probably the same as now because he is the ever-knowing Guru. We applaud him for his goodwill work and saving a St. X boy from the crime-driven streets to help him make something of himself.

See LaSalle kids, there’s still hope for you.

Have a question you’ve been dying to know the answer to? Want to see your name in lights? Email me fozzie007@yahoo.com and I’ll get together with the Authority Guru and we’ll solve your question.

Posted 3:23 PM by Brian K

From The Brain of The Giant Head

Before They Were The ‘Shoemakers’

Last weekend I saw something that I never thought I’d see in a million years, and no, I’m not talking about Ben Wagner’s latest dance moves. Limousines were driving me everywhere. I was offered food every five minutes. Alcohol was free. And when I arrived, an announcer yelled my name into the mic as the crowd went wild. What was going on, you ask?

Jeff and Ann got married.

Now I’m not exactly the sentimental type, since my college diploma is piled somewhere under my dirty laundry and I still laugh at fart jokes, but this special occasion for two close friends of mine almost brought me to tears. (If the LGB danced on your feet, you’d come close to tears too.) So this is column is dedicated to them.

I remember Jeff and Ann before they were "The Shoemakers."

Jeff was a young soccer buff that planned to play professionally, earn millions, and then waste it while supporting his friends’ booze and video game habits. I met him for lunch at the end of every week, affectionately known as "Frisch's Fridays," in which he refused to pay for my food week in and week out. What a bastard.

I remember a young group of boys with plenty of time on their hands forming the now infamous Wet Moose Society. Jeff was a founding member. While groups like the Young Christians of America focused on good deeds and charitable work, we focused our efforts on spreading the gospel of apathy and laziness — two very important causes. One time, one member of the WMS puked all over the side of Jeff’s car while another spent the rest of the night yacking at the Afghan Whigs concert. But Jeff didn’t get upset and took care of his Moose brothers. That was very kind, but I still think the bastard should have bought me lunch.

Speaking of concerts, I can recall a certain Fiona Apple concert where Jeff "Shoe-Daddy" Shoemaker showed off his perfection of the suburban head-bob and the punk-rock skank. I laughed when he not only impressed us, but also impressed the 39-year-old leathered-up hillbilly woman dancing behind us. She offered to take him home and let him "do the two-step mosey" with her. He politely declined, noting that there was only one true woman he would ever do the two-step mosey with.

Ann was also a young soccer star but had an even bigger dream of winning the Olympic Gold for running in track, a sport she practiced each time she chased the getaway mobile after we toilet-papered her house. Two reindeer posed naughtily and one cement pig in her yard later, she got even in a big way.

The Wet Moose crew was catching a bite at good ‘ol Perkins before an evening of mischief. After the checks were paid and the hostess’s hand was high-fived, we dipped into the parking lot only to find that Shoe-Daddy’s car was no longer there. After hours of panicking and a soiling of our pants, we later discovered that Ann and her delinquent friends had copied Jeff’s car keys and moved his car into The Bowl’s lot. It was a prank that had gone unmatched. Until now.

We finally got even, didn’t we Moose fans. We permanently dirtied your floors, Ann. We gave you a never-ending mound of laundry all over your bedroom and piles of beer cans sporatically thrown next to your couch. We gave you something you can’t return to JC Penny or the Gap Outlet. We gave you something that will remind you of the Wet Moose Society every day for the rest of your life.

We gave you Jeff. Glad we got the last laugh.

Congratulations to Jeff and Ann for not only tying the knot, but also letting us all be a part of the wonderful ceremony. I hope you have a lifetime of happiness. And I will know if you do, because Roger and I will be living in your basement for years to come. --The Brain