bush approval rating 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 cat's ass fart anna kournikova zeitgeist bush approval rating
Brain Farts was a weekly humor column that ran in the Louisville Eccentric Observer 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: Welcome to My Nightmare |
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By Kevin Gibson |
I think
I mentioned a couple weeks ago that I am unemployed. Well, here's my advice:
DON'T be unemployed. Have you ever had a boil that had to be lanced?
Unemployment is nearly as bad.
I went to the unemployment office last week to tell them my story of woe. They
didn't seem the least bit interested. I was like, "Oh, sure, you've GOT a job,
so you don't have time to listen to my problems."
The lady told me to take a number.
Soon I was sitting at a computer and being told to enter myself into a state
registry of other pathetic jobless losers. One of the unemployment office people
began giving me instructions, when the screen went blank.
"Hmm," he said, "I don't know why that happened."
"You didn't buy a Macintosh," I told him. Suddenly, two red horns appeared on
his forehead, and his eyes became yellow slits. A hissing noise came from deep
within him.
"Do not $%^& with me," he hissed. "I can make sure you are unemployed for a LONG
time to come."
So I entered my info and applied for jobs like "information officer level III"
and "secret puffer bot specimen gatherer" and turned in my slip. The man then
asked me to please have a seat in the blue chairs and wait for my number to be
called. Sounded simple enough.
Four days and 13 hours later, I realized that this might take longer than I
expected. The 4,247 dimes I inserted into the parking meter couldn't last
forever, and I began to worry. Perhaps I should have known something was up when
I saw the TV/VCR combo in the middle of the room. Several people sat there
watching "Star Wars: Episode I" and growing their hair out. Jimmy Hoffa sat in
the second row of seats, chuckling to himself every so often. It was kind of
creepy.
After I watched "Star Wars" roughly three times through, they called my number.
I walked over to my case worker and handed her my paperwork. Stifling a grin,
she said, "Oh, gee, I'm so sorry ... but ..."
She turned away and I could hear her laughing through her cupped hand. In a
moment, she collected herself and said, "But I'm afraid you won't officially be
eligible for unemployment benefits until next week." The caseworker at the next
desk overheard and broke into unbridled guffaws.
"You mean I have to come back?" I said.
Then the whole office broke up. Employees fell out of their chairs laughing, and
others like me (who had obviously done this before) shook their heads and tried
not to laugh as hard as the state government employees.
As I turned to leave, an old bearded man by the vending machines caught my arm
and said, "Don't fight it, son. You're one of us now. Let go of your feelings."
I pulled away and took three steps. Then I felt badly for being rude. I turned
to apologize -- and the old man was no longer there.
I paused for a moment, looked around, then hurried out of there as fast as I
could. As I hit the sidewalk, the man's face appeared again in my mind. "Obi
Wan?" I whispered.
Contact the writer at kgramone@aol.com.
Hissssss.