Brain Farts Brain Fart brain farts brain fart brain-fart brain-farts brainfart brainfarts LEO Louisville Eccentric Observer parody lampoon satire Louisville Kentucky Kevin Gibson kgramone@aol.com kgramone humor
Brain Farts was a weekly humor column that ran in the Louisville Eccentric Observer (LEO) from mid-2000 until the summer of 2002. It was, well, eccentric. And occasionally satirical. And sardonic. Some liked it, some hated it; some just didn't get it, and that's OK. There were times when I didn't get it either. I've compiled here some of the archives from Brain Farts for the enjoyment of friends, family and anyone else who happens by. I also have written some new Brain Farts, and added some links and other trivialities that you shouldn't be too concerned with.
Unless you're as bored as I am.
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Brain Farts: Satan's Stocking Stuffers |
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By Kevin Gibson |
It was a crappy Christmas. No one has told grandma yet that she died nine years ago. They still keep her in a freezer in the garage and bring her out for Christmas dinner. She's starting to get freezer burn, and she never eats her veggies.
Someone lost all the Christmas CDs, so we listened to an album called Violent Revolution by Kreator and Saxon's Killing Ground. Made the baby's ears bleed, and my cousin Dale went out in the back yard and started kicking things.
Aunt Rose thinks she is SOOO funny. She brings her awful cookies every year and expects everyone to try them. Poor grandpa, he's diabetic, so it nearly kills him every year. This year, she brought these hard cookies with some kind of sugary coating on top. After we got grandpa stabilized, Aunt Rose said, "Those are my anthrax cookies! Ha ha ha!"
I'm sorry, but that is just NOT funny.
My family is a riot, though, at Christmas. My great aunt Bean gave everyone instructions downloaded from the Internet on how to make a nuclear bomb, along with a photo of Ayman al-Zawahiri in a Santa suit. (It was a fake. She used Adobe Photoshop.)
Cousin Shelby announced she had gotten a job in government. Said she was going to intern for "a guy named Condit. Has anyone ever heard of him?" She really needs to read more. We didn't tell her, though. She'll find out soon enough.
Now, I will say that, in all fairness, my Uncle Gilley is a bit of an ass, and we all know that, so we try to overlook it. The man is a sociopath, I think. Nevertheless, he should not give tequila to a 3-year-old. For one thing, we had to dunk little Samantha in a sink full of ice-cold water to wake her up, and for another, what a waste of perfectly good tequila. I've got no beef with giving the brat some Nyquil or something, but don't waste the good stuff.
Then my ex-girlfriend showed up drunk and started throwing rocks through the window, like it was some kind of screwed up "Andy Griffith Show" rerun or something. She was half naked and screaming about wanting her 38 Special records back, and it was really embarrassing. I didn't even know she was out of the hospital. Last I heard, she was still zonked on Thorazine.
Of course, when she called me "pencil boy," everyone started laughing at me. That's when I called the cops, who proceeded to not only cart the ex-girlfriend away but also to serve a 14-month-old arrest warrant on Dad for public indecency. I don't think I had never seen him cry before.
But I got revenge on them all. My gifts this year: Free subscriptions to News 4 U for the whole family. Cruel, huh?
E-mail the writer at kgramone@aol.com. And a Happy New Year.