Posted 9:12 AM by Brian K

From The Brain of The Giant Head

Fond Memories...
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This past Wednesday was Mama Brain’s birthday, and being the wonderful son that I am, I sent her a card and made sure to remember that birthday phone call. The family was over the house, enjoy birthday Chinese food around the birthday table with birthday cheesecake. It sounded like a lot of fun and I was kind of bummed that I was 300 miles away and unable to partake in the festivities, but I celebrated her monumental day with the family last weekend when I was in Cincinnati. And we did what most families do on the Mother’s birthday.

We went gambling.

Nothing like waking up before the cartoons come on to drive many miles just to drop $100 on slots. If you haven’t tried it you should. Just take $100 from your father’s wallet and gamble it all away. If he asks where the money went, tell him the dog ate it. If you don’t have a dog, tell him your younger sister ate it. After all, when you were 5 and she was 3 she did blame you for drawing all over the freshly painted walls with a red crayon while she just happened to be an innocent bystander with melted red crayon all over her hands. Not that I hold a grudge or anything.

On the car ride over we jammed to the Blue Tape. Oh yes, the Blue Tape. Every family should have a Blue Tape. The Blue Tape is a compilation of some of the finest music ever recorded, or at least the only music we ever listened to growing up because that’s what our folks listened to. From Billy Joel to Harry Chapin to Martin Mull, Papa Brain, Mama Brain, Little Sister Jennie and I sang loud, sang proud, and sang without any idea what the word "harmony" meant. But that didn’t matter, just like most embarrassing things don’t matter when you’re with family. It was fun. Everyone has fond memories of growing up that they never let go of -- mine just happen to be of Blue Tapes and red crayons.

When we arrived a the casino, we didn’t waste any time riding up the elevator and plopping our butts down in front of the colorful slot machine lights. Casinos are an odd place. It’s the one place in the world where class, race and gender don’t matter. The casino does not discriminate -- it robs everyone blind equally.

Without hesitation, I, like my other family members, started feeding the bellies of the machines. The goal to playing slot machines is to make the machine sick. Every time you feed a machine’s belly, it wiggles its eyes at you and, depending on its digestive track, it’ll either give you a happy or an angry face. If the machine is happy, which is generally the case, it’ll just sit there ignoring you, much like Michelle Walton did back in 3rd grade when I passed her a note asking her to be my girlfriend and she responded by saying "Go poop in your hat." Which confused me because she didn’t seem happy later in the day when I handed her my Reds hat filled with "her instructions." Ah ... fond memories, but I digress.

If the machine is happy it ignores you. If the machine’s angry, it’ll throw-up all over the place, leaving shiny silver chunks. What’s odd is that, unlike humans, the machine likes it when you put it’s revisited-lunch back in its mouth. The more you do it the more likely it is to keep throwing up on you. And get this -- people at the counters will actually PAY YOU for the puke. How great is that!

So I kept throwing money into the machines left and right, trying to win enough puke to pay my college loans. But my machine was too happy. It kept smiling at me as I dropped about $50 in its mouth, which is considered a healthy diet according to the Federal Slot Machines Association.

But out of the corner of my eye, I noticed my sister getting puked on by every machine she sat down in front of. She pissed off so many machines, that she walked away with 3 tubs of upchuck, which the cashier paid her handsomely for. Mama and Papa Brain were like me, keeping their machines too happy and throw-up free.

As we walked out of there, with the three eldest in the group now as poor as youngest was when she walked in, and the youngest now rolling in riches, I leaned over and asked my sister just exactly how she made the machines so angry. And she leaned over to me and, in a soft voice, explained:

"I’m just better than you in everything."

And I smiled the rest of the ride home, joking with my family, singing along with the Blue Tape and remembering all the fond memories of my childhood and how each new day, including our gambling experience, was filling me with new memories I will cherish forever. I’m sure the rest of my family cherishes them as well, especially Little Sister Jennie once she realizes that her cabbage patch doll, Pearly, is missing and reads the ransom note for 3 tubs of puke.

More importantly, I hope she notices it was written in red crayon.

I hope you all join me in singing Happy Birthday to my Mom. I’m sure she’ll hear us, especially since all of us sing off-key. Happy Birthday Mom.

Posted 4:20 PM by Wise One

From The Brain of the Giant Head

The Etiquette of Smack Talking

Smack talking is an integral part of all fantasy sports leagues. Most guys and girls say they join Yahoo fantasy baseball for the competition and goodwill of the sport, but that’s all a big fat lie. I didn’t join 4 different leagues this year just to win -- I joined them to make everyone else look stupid through a plethora of arrogant statements and funny jokes about their mamas. It’s an artform that doesn’t get any respect, except for the few of us that have mastered the skill.

To partake in the smack-talk community you must have three things:

1) A quick wit -- because smack-talk responses lose their luster when uttered two days after the original smack. For example, say you are driving to work on Monday and your friend says to you, "My grandma drives faster than you." It’s bad to wait till Thursday to say "It’s because my large genitalia prohibits me from pressing on the gas too quickly." While clever, your friend will have forgotten his quip and just think you are a big perv.

2) A thick layer of skin -- because sometimes jokes can get out of hand. This has happened to me before when they tell you your head has gotten to big to fit through the doorway and you tell them their butt is too big to fit through the Grand Canyon and they tell you to sleep on the couch until you’ve thought about what you said. This is damaging to your relationship and, more importantly, your back.

3) The ability to make the other person sound stupid at all costs -- it doesn’t matter what you say, as long as you have a plan of attack you will do alright. Themes are always good, like attacking a person’s body parts or lack of Nintendo skills, but the theme must fit the particular situation. That’s why fantasy baseball makes for a perfect outlet for excellent smack talk.

There are very few people I know that can efficiently pull off proper smack talk without pissing people off enough to get punched in the face. The people are the move-and-shakers of the world. They are the people with enough intelligence to run successful companies and own multi-billion dollar corporations, but get stuck doing clerical work. Why? We offend the Powers That Be with our clever verbiage and become pee-ons for life. Word to the wise, don’t ever tell your boss his wife looks like a giant potato -- he will have you alphabetizing file drawers till 2005.

Here is an example of good smack talk dialogue during a weeklong battle of Fantasy baseball:

The Amazo: "You're employment of witchcraft caught me quite off-guard. Luckily (as I thought you would now realize) I carry my anti-curse kit with me everywhere and have successfully shed off your evil spell. Better luck next time."
The Brain: "If I had a nickel for every homerun I beat you by, I’d be able to own you, your family and Microsoft."
The Amazo: "I’d like to save you the embarrassment of getting pummeled by offering you the chance to concede defeat for the week and move on with dignity."
The Brain: "I would concede, but I have faith in my team unlike the lack of chemistry in yours. I suggest you sell the team so they have a fair shot at competing instead the embarrassing defeats you put them through week in and week out."
The Amazo: "Wow, now that I think about it we both have pretty good teams, unlike that Authority Guru. His team blows."
The Brain: "Yeah, his team scores even less than he does."
The Authority Guru: "You guys are assholes."

If there was an Olympics of Smack-Talking, my friends would talk most of the medals. But until that day comes, we will have to settle for the joy of knowing we can outwit most everyone.

You don’t believe me? Of course you don’t cause your mama used to tell you there was always one really stupid kid in every class, but you looked around and couldn’t find him. BOOYAH!