My Head Is Gigantic And Filled With Gary Coleman's Thoughts

Okay, the first part of this column’s title is right, but not the second. The second part is just the part I wish were true. Oh, to know the thoughts of a bitter midget.

I spent the better part of today driving in circles, trying to find a store that sells sunglasses. I’m sick of being nearly blinded six to eight times every month and almost crashing into random objects, so I decided to pick up some sunglasses.

Herein lies the problem (I said “HEREin”, not “heroin”): all the places I found were cheap crapholes on kiosk carts in shopping malls. No regular stores, no Sunglass Huts or anything like that. The only thing I could find were cheap, “buy two for $25” places.

I’ve bought the cheap sunglasses before. Unfortunately, my gigantic head always breaks or bends them into unusable states. They never fit my oversized watermelon head, so they end up getting stretched out of shape by constant abuse from my oversized head.

Notice how I’m resisting the urge to make an “oversized head” penis joke. I have such good control over myself.

As an ugly beast of a woman once told me, I have a head the size of a basketball. A big, regulation-size basketball, too; not the little miniature ones that sissies use to dunk on the short baskets.

It’s unfortunate that society hasn’t found a way to accompany people with this disorder, which I term “Irish Big Head Heritage Syndrome”. IBHHS is something that I imagine many suffer from. But hey, at least I don’t have herpes, like you do.

That was inappropriate, and I apologize.

They have “fat and lanky” (or sometimes called “big and tall”) stores for clothing. Why hasn’t anyone put together a big and tall head store, where one can buy sunglasses and other head accessories, like nacho-cheese-holding sombreros? IBHHS sufferers need to be serviced too.

If you’re laughing at my use of the term “serviced”, then you’ve been reading my column for way too many years.

The big head (yet another possible dirty joke) specialty store, which could be titled the “Hey! You’ve got a fat f***ing head!” retail outlet, would be a hit with fat-headed bastards everywhere. As an added bonus, we could start selling mesh hats. Nobody sells mesh hats.

Ducktales rules! What was I talking about again? My gigantic head? Oh, yes. Hell, I’ve already used the terms “gigantic head”, “oversized watermelon head”, “oversized noggin”, “size of a basketball” and “fat-headed bastards”. Can’t you see the topic is dry? There’s nothing more that’s funny about this!

To hell with you, column #78.

God, what an awful game. How could anyone have ever liked that steaming pile of crap?

Anyway, back to the column. The column is good? No? Okay, to hell with the column, then. I’ll just give you a condensed version of the repetitious jokes that would have followed had I actually written the rest of the column instead of playing video games.