Posted 11:20 AM by Brian K

From The Brain of The Giant Head

She’s One Smart Cookie

Valentine’s Day is upon us again. What a load of crap. It’s the one day of the year that makes single people feel awful and people with a significant others feel worse. Why? Single people look at other couples and say, "Look at them all happy and stuff. I’m going to be angry and alone for the rest of my life!" And people in relationships look at single people and say, "Look at them all happy and single and not getting yelled at for buying their girlfriend a garbage disposal for Valentine’s Day. Lucky bastards."

The LGB and I usually take it easy for Valentine’s Day. Years ago when we started dating I learned that her birthday was exactly one week after Cupid’s holiday, February 21, and I threw down the gauntlet and said, "Well babe, we can either celebrate your birthday or Valentine’s Day because I only do one holiday per month."

She chose her birthday, which sucked because DVD players and jewelry are more expensive than Snickers bars. But because of that I get one "Get Out Of Jail Free" card each year on the hallmark of all love holidays. Or so she would have me believe.

I have to admit, the LGB is one smart cookie as she knows how to trick me into things. When we initially talked about Valentine’s Day last week, I told her, "Listen, I don’t want to do ANYTHING for Valentine’s Day except sit around and watch TV with the woman I love." I thought that was sweet and at the time she agreed whole-heartedly. So I had plans of coming home, microwaving leftover pizza and sitting on the couch and watching America’s Funniest Home Videos till I fell asleep.

Then two days ago she sent me an email suggesting we see a movie just because we haven’t gone to a movie in awhile. I’m a fan of movies and figured it wouldn’t be too much trouble to head over to the local MegaPlex. It seemed like an okay idea so I said, "Why not."

The following day, which I like to call "Yesterday," she sent me another email saying "Well, since we’re going over to the Movie Theater anyway, we might as well go out to dinner at a restaurant over there." I like eating and it made logical sense, so I emailed her back and said, "Why not."

Valentine’s Day came today, on Friday and on my drive to work this morning I did my typical routine: I got in my car, turned the ignition, picked my wedge and opened my bookbag up to find the face to my car stereo so I could listen to Sports Talkers discuss whether or not the Cubs will win the World Series this year. Considering they haven’t won a series since 1908, chances are slim. While I dug through the mounds of crap stuffed in my bag I noticed a pretty pink card covered in hearts that said "To My Valentine from The LGB."

DAMN!

How did she sneak this into my bag? More importantly, how much trouble will I be in considering that instead of my usual Have-A-Nice-Day kiss I gave her a hearty high-five this morning. I’m sure that if there were a doghouse I’d be sitting in the stinky part. So I made a quick trip to Walgreen’s to look at possible cards I could get for her. Apparently everyone else remembered this holiday and out of the 4 aisles generally full of Valentines only 2 cards remained, leaving slim pickings for a guy whose life depends on it. I ran through my choices figuring at least one had to fit.

The first one had a picture of two cute little cuddly bears on the front, one with a bow-tie on top of its head indicating it’s a female and one without any underpants indicating it’s a male.

On the front it said:"1 plus 1 equals 2 -- Me and You."
On the inside: Happy Valentine’s Day!"

While this card probably would have come in handy in third grade when Sally Strumfield was hot stuff, unfortunately now it’s too cheesy for me and math isn’t exactly the LGB’s strong suit as I learned after cooking her dinner every night last week, which she counted as "twice."

The second one had an old lady on the front, wearing an old lady bonnet and sunglasses the size of Montana. She held a box of heart-shaped candy.

On the front it said: You’re sweeter than a box of candy.
On the inside: But since your doctor says you can’t have any because of your age, all you get is this card.

That’s just asking for a black eye, so with a lack of better options I chose the first card with the bears and picked up some roses to make up for the lame card.

When I finally got to my house after work, I opened the card. On the inside she wrote a bunch of mushy stuff as per usual, but then ended it with: "PS- why don’t you wear that blue tie that looks really good on you when we go out." Flattery will get you everywhere and she’s right, I do look good in that blue tie so once again I said, "Why not."

As I looked back over these emails and the card I realized that my quiet night of watching TV with the woman I love turned into me buying her a card and rose, getting dressed up and taking her out to dinner and a movie. DAMN! I can’t believe it. She’s good. She can be pretty cunning when she wants something. And she out-smarted me this time, but I don’t like her odds of ever doing it again.

They’re about as good as the Cubs winning the World Series.

Posted 12:41 PM by Brian K

From The Brain of The Giant Head

Flying: Pack Spare Underwear
Part 2

Flying is one of the most miserable experiences in the world, just below being set on fire and just above watching Temptation Island. From the moment I enter the cockpit and the flight attendants, formerly known as stewardesses, give me a smile and a wink, I know I just paid $300 to be tortured in ways only James Bond can withstand. And while I am quite comparable to Mr. Bond, I can’t say I’ve ever seen him cry like a Sally when they shut the cockpit door and start pulling away from the terminal.

That is the moment I realize that I peed a little.

As the plane makes it’s snail-paced dash for the runway, the flight attendants start showing you the safety procedures.

1. Fasten your safety belt.

Is that in case we have a fender bender in the sky with another Boeing 747? If that’s the case, shouldn’t we also have airbags and check to make sure there’s a spare tire in the trunk? I think they force you to wear it just so they don’t get pulled over and given a ticket.

2. Here is the proper way to wear your air-forcing facemask in the case that the pressurization in the cabin changes too rapidly.

Honestly, if the pressurization is changing too rapidly, that means you are taking a nose-dive toward the ground. Instead of putting on the facemask, I think everyone should be given an extra bag of peanuts. Even death row criminals get a final meal. Also, the LGB once pointed out to me that Cosmopolitan dubbed those masks as a ‘fashion don’t."

3. In case of an emergency, you can use your seat as a floatation device.

I think it was Jerry Seinfeld that once said, "Why don’t they make the whole plane out of that stuff?" Valid point. But really, what good does a floatation device do you when you’re dead. Instead, I’d like to leverage for those uncomfortable floatation sponges to be replaced with Lazyboys. If you’re going down, why not go down in comfort.

4. The emergency exits are located at the front and rear of the plane.

That’s a complete lie. As we were speeding up the runway, less than 5 seconds from actually lifting off the ground, I ran back and told the flight attendant to open the door and let me out because there was an emergency. When she asked what my emergency was, I thought it’d sound stupid if I told her I was terrified to fly, so I came up with a completely logical and sound reason for my need to leave.

"I left my son Kevin, who’s only 7 year old, at home all alone accidentally. I’m worried he may eat lots of junk food and watch movies he shouldn’t be watching. I also live in a giant mansion and I’m afraid two inept burglars, known as the Wet Bandits, may try to break in and harm him. While I know he’s extremely cunning for a boy his age and will probably come up with clever traps using Christmas Ornaments and Micro Machines to out-wit and capture these two rogues, I’m concerned that he doesn’t know the code to close the garage door. I better get off and check on him."

For some reason she didn’t quite buy my story and led me directly back to my seat and strapped me in so tight that I had to pull down the air-facemask for oxygen. My neighbor sitting in the seat next to me didn’t appreciate that too much and decided to fall asleep and lay his head on my shoulder. It wouldn’t have bothered me so much if he didn’t have an uncontrollable drooling problem.

During the rest of the flight, all these things happen in no particular order:
Screaming.
Nausea.
Passing out.
Waking back up and passing out again.
More nausea.
Being asked never to fly that airline again.

When we finally landed, I plowed through the crowd knocking over three children, a beastly man and an elderly woman so I could escape the hell know as flight 1240. As I got off the plane, I fell to my knees and kissed the ground in the airport terminal -- then I spent the next twenty minutes trying to clean the gum, which apparently was stuck to the carpet I kissed, off my face.

And as I praised the Lord that the flight was successful and I got home in one piece, I was saddened by the fact that no one was at the airport to pick me up. That used to be the job of my imaginary friend Mark. Boy I miss Mark.

As I returned to my house, I was so thankful that I made it home that I jumped right into bed and flipped on the TV. Unfortunately the cable was out and the only channel I could get was FOX, but that didn’t bother me. My life was good. Everything turned out A-Okay. This day couldn’t possibly get any worse.

"Thank you for tuning into FOX. Sit back, relax and enjoy this special commercial-free 24 hour marathon of Temptation Island."

WHY DO YOU HATE ME GOD!!!