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.

Brain Farts: Much Ado About Inertia
	By Kevin Gibson February 6, 2002

Staying home sick one day last week, I realized why I have a job: because nothing’s on TV. What else is there to do?

Yet there is something interesting about doing nothing. You learn things. You have time to ponder things like, “What would I do if I had eternity off as a sick day?” (Answer: Translate the Bible into Pig Latin.) You learn there is a scenario in which you actually have time to take a close, hard look at the calluses that have built up on the bottoms of your feet. Gross. I also learned that beer doesn’t taste the same at 10 a.m. as it does at 10 p.m. (Or was that the fever making it taste that way?)

The worst thing I learned is that no matter what delicacies might be in your fridge — fine wines, caviar, Vienna sausages — the only thing you will ever consider eating when you’re sick is that damn can of Campbell’s Chicken Noodle Soup that’s been there since God knows when. Like it’s some kind of natural law or something.

Cold and flu epidemics are the ONLY reasons the Campbell’s Soup company is still in business. Because our parents forced us to eat this condensed nightmare each time we got sick as children, we are now programmed to think it in some way contributes to getting us better. It’s just not true.

So on this day, I’m so bored that I ingest the horrid chicken slime, then doze back off and have a “sick dream.” You know the kind. They’re the dreams that let you know your body chemistry is WAAAYY off track. My aunt once told me that when she was a kid, her sick dreams involved being stuck on a pirate ship, on which everyone talked in fast motion — like playing a 33 RPM record at 45 speed. Man, that’s creepy just to think about.

Anyway, my sick dream on this day involved a little raccoon-like creature that was actually sort of half-human. It walked upright, had a furry body and a ringed tail ... and talked in a little girl’s voice. Before I knew it could talk, I asked someone, “What is that thing?” And the little freak turned and looked at me and said, “That is not a logical question.” Well, it stunned me so much I could actually feel myself waking up.

Then I start watching an old Nicolas Cage movie from 1982 called “Valley Girl.” The key value I get from this is that I notice a guy I recognize in the band backing Josie Cotton in the prom scene. I rush to my music collection and find my copy of Cotton’s album, From the Hip. Sure enough, the bass player is the same guy who played in the Knack. You know, as in “My Sharona.” Prescott Niles is the guy’s name.

That’s when I decide to try and go back to sleep. The raccoon thing is a lot more interesting.

E-mail the writer at kgramone@aol.com. Logical, my butt.