Sunday 22 December 2013

My brain is a dick

I've recently discovered that my brain is a dick. Not literally. In other words, if my brain was another person, I would think that person was a dick.

The tricky part about writing this blog is that I have to do it while my brain is not working, because I can't let it know that I'm on to it. Some people may claim that the brain is always working, but I know for a fact that my brain sometimes likes to take a break, like the time my boss's wife came to our office and was introduced to all the staff. While being introduced to other staff members I noticed that she had a low-cut top on and was showing ample cleavage. Now if my brain was switched on, and when the introductions reached me, I would have shook her hand politely and said "Nice to meet you" instead of what really happened. So I know that my brain sometimes just switches off. Fact!

And now that I've discovered that my brain has been out to ruin my life, I've attempted to remember how long this has been going on for. Thinking back is tricky because memories can be distorted by an evil brain. Some things might not be real like the time I saved the universe from aliens or the time I worked as an accountant for fifteen years.

I initially thought that my brain turned on me in my early twenties, when I used to drink a lot and therefore killed a lot of brain cells. I can see how my brain may have thought that this was an attack on it and therefore had to defend itself by slowly fucking with my life. There was one specific day when I know that my brain had it in for me. I was writing an important university exam but my brain refused to tell me the answers because I went out drinking the night before. What a dick.

But I don't think the battle started due to drinking, because even at  school I was not considered "academic", whatever that means. Their our also times when I'm not good at grammer and spelling. This is my brain's fault.

So when did my brain become a dick? I believe the answer lies in my dreams. Dreams are things the brain thinks about when I'm not there and my brain is clearly a male chauvinistic pig. It constantly thinks of women and sex objects and doesn't care about their feelings or emotions, like I do.

Quite often my brain will dream about celebrities such as Jennifer Aniston from her Friends years and Halle Berry from Swordfish, getting naked and kissing each other. I'm not even involved. I just watch. So even in my dreams my brain won't let me get laid. What a dick.

If my brain wanted to be helpful, it would let me dream about more realistic chances of sexual opportunities, like suggesting possible pick-up lines for fat Suzie with the wonky eye from reception, instead of just bursting into hot Justine's office from marketing and watching her lez-up with busty Rachel from HR, while I watch.

When it attempts to be a bit more realistic and dreams about realistic people, like my lovely wife, it dreams of things that my wife would never consent to and even if she did consent to my brain's suggestion, I wouldn't know where to get a leprechaun and ewok costume for adults.

So now I've established that my brain is a dick, I'd now like explain how I discovered its hatred for me.

A few nights ago, I was fighting man-flu, which included having a fever. I was fast asleep and left in the care of my brain's dream world. In my dream I was watching a couple of emotionless models touch each others boobs, when all of a sudden, a massive spider started climbing across my back. I am not a big fan of spiders and this therefore made me wake up. I lay there for a few seconds, when all of a sudden, I felt the tickling on my back again. It wasn't a spider but some sweat from my fever running down my back.

It's not a nice feeling, but my brain had a million different options available to it, instead of making me think that there was a massive spider running across my back. Why not rather make the lesbian models kiss my back, or maybe run a tickly feather on my back. How about a little kitten playfully rolling on my back, or just simply some water running down my back. No! My fucking brain decided to make a huge spider run across my back! What a dick!