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.

I envision a world free from clowns and baby monkeys; a world where bureaucracy is nostalgic -- just a quaint memory similar to the time when you fell off your bike and got your first skinned knee.

I look forward to a world without politicians, one in which there are no White House sex scandals, no wars without just cause, no deficit spending or excruciatingly bad comb-over haircuts. I also look forward to having no more self-serving laws, passed by greedy, narrow-minded twits in bad suits who cheat on their spouses for sport and drink cheap bourbon in “gentlemen’s clubs.”

I see a future absolutely devoid of Paris Hilton and Britney-Goddamned-Spears.

One day, there will be no selfish drivers, turning this way and that in cars with turn signal bulbs that have never been used. And there will be no narcissism or greed, no hatred, anger, jealousy or colonoscopies. No one, at any time, will have to sit on a public toilet seat without protection. Gravy will have its own food group.

In the world of the future, money-grubbing, inhuman, corporate ass-wipes will not exist. Those who buy and sell others like so much cattle will be as outdated as leisure suits, AMC Pacers and the Democratic party; our happiness will not depend on money or professional achievement.

Organized religion will not exist in the future world of my dreams. Each person will achieve his own spiritual heights through a personal relationship with a god and an ideology of his own choosing. Belching in public will be absolutely encouraged, and toe jam will be something to be rejoiced. Kneecaps will fascinate us all for hours; meanwhile, tiny bearded half-elves will build amusement parks without height restrictions on roller coasters. Clams will sing in harmony.

Heartbreak will have no place in our future – it won’t even exist. Unfortunately, that means there will be no romantic love because, let’s face it, you can’t have one without the other. But an all-encompassing peace and tranquility will take its place, making us all feel fulfilled and calm, as if we were already seven beers into a really nasty Saturday night bender. The kind of bender in which you make out in a seedy bar with someone so foul, so wretched, so hideous, that you later swear they never existed at all except in a George Romero film. Yes, they are so repulsive and inhuman that they actually eat human flesh and lose body parts on a regular basis. And they smell.

Cheese will recite fairy tales in meadows of hair. Nine sea otters will play divine music in the key of C#. The Internet will have scratch and sniff capabilities, and George W. Bush will be eaten by hippos.

In short, bring on the apocalypse. Change means improvement, and that’s a sacrifice I think we all should be willing to make for the good of the earth. For the future. For us. And for sponge cake.

E-mail the writer at kgramone@aol.com. And no more writing Brain Farts on two hours’ sleep.