It's in My Head - #16: Life Finds A Way

When I first started this series at the beginning of the month, I'd planned to do a new one every day for all 31 days of October. And so far I have... until a few days ago. It's not that I don't have anything in my head to talk about. Trust me - there's almost too much in there. It's just that well, life finds a way of interfering with your plans. There's nothing major going on or any reason why I can't continue this, it's just that I needed a couple of days off. When I first came up with the idea for a blog series called "It's in My Head" (which was actually in February of 2013), I meant it to be a random feature on my blog that would pop up whenever an idea did the same thing. I didn't mean to do it every day. That kind of takes the fun out of it because you start writing not because you want to, but because you have to. And just like any other hobby or leisure activity, sometimes you just don't feel like doing it. There's nothing wrong with that.

But Scott, you love to write! Surely you can't be serious. I am serious and don't call me Shirley. Ok. so I'm not serious. And I'm not Shirley either. I know in the wrong light I can look like a very unattractive woman, but I'm a dude. Although you never really know what might happen someday. I heard somewhere that some West African frogs have been known to spontaneously change sex from male to female in a single sex environment. I hang out with a lot of dudes, so you might just have to go around looking up skirts if you really want to know the truth.

There's a good reason why I don't really make plans and why I'm so good with spontaneously rolling with the changes. It's life man. Every time you think you have it all figured out, it knocks you on your ass and stiffs you with the bill. Then you're kind of screwed for a while until you recover from that nonsense. But then you figure shit out and life finds a way of being good again. Then you coast along for a while until someone shuts off the electric fences and the T-Rex is now free to wander in and out of any paddock that she likes. Things were alright at first. Sure, the kids had a scare that they'll probably never recover from and now they're lost in the park, but they're with Dr. Alan Grant. Who better to lead them through Jurassic Park than a dinosaur expert? Yeah I know Malcolm is seriously injured, but not bad enough that you couldn't chance moving him. Gennaro was T-Rex food, but no one really liked the blood sucking lawyer anyway. You felt a little better when Mr. Arnold said, "Hold on to your butts" and rebooted the system, but then the Raptor fences got shut off. Now that's when all hell broke loose. Even Nedry knew better than to mess with the Raptor fences. 

But that's... that's chaos. You can't control it. You can't avoid it. You don't get to choose when it happens or the severity of the mess it brings when it erupts. All you can hope to do is survive it. So yeah, I'm still kicking strong despite taking a couple of days off. And maybe I'll continue this adventure and maybe I won't. I'm not going to decide that right now. I think I'm just going to leave it up to life to decide that for me. If there is one thing that we've learned from Dr. Ian Malcolm, it's that he's always on the search for the future ex-Mrs. Malcolm. But if there were two things that we've learned from Dr. Malcom, it's that fact that life finds a way. That idea found a way into my head today. What ideas did life put into your head?

 - pookon -

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It's in My Head - #15: Aunt Maria's Elephants are Playing in the Sand

I'm sure that you listen to music. I think everybody does. It's a very common thing. I know that you probably sing along with the songs too. Even if you're not that good of a singer, you probably pretend that you're a rockstar, with the music blaring while you're rocking down the highway. Don't be embarrassed. I think that's freaking awesome. But how many times have you caught yourself singing the wrong lyrics because you weren't really sure what they were? I'm certainly guilty of that. And that's why Aunt Maria's Elephants are in my head today.

I'm sure you're familiar with the song "Lookin' Out My Back Door" by Creedence Clearwater Revival (or CCR for short). If you aren't, just hit the play button at the top of this post. Let the sweet sounds of John Fogerty go in your ears and straight into your head. You know that guy? That's John Fogerty, rock and roll singer. Do you even know who John Fogerty is? He did Creedence Clearwater Revival. Yeah he did all that shit. I don't listen to his music, but you know that John Fogerty - hell of a guy.

Anyway, there are these lyrics in the middle of the song that I always thought said, "Aunt Maria's elephants are playing in the sand." I've been singing those lyrics for as long as I can remember. It wasn't until recently that I found out that the actual lyrics are "Tambourines and elephants are playing in the band" followed by "Won't you take a ride on the flyin' spoon? Doo, doo doo. Wond'rous apparition, provided by magician. Doo doo doo lookin' out my back door." Who would've known? Tambourines and elephants? That doesn't make sense. Now Aunt Maria's elephants? That's an idea I can really get behind.

Aunt Maria is my Aunt (obviously). She is married to my Uncle Rick, who is my Mom's brother. She's wonderful, and does a great job of keeping him in line and looking out for the rest of us. "Lookin' Out My Back Door" is not the first time that I've paid tribute to her in song when I was unsure of the real words. Are you familiar with the Nirvana song "Come as You Are?" There's a part in the song when it goes "Memory, yeah. Memory, yeah. Memory, yeah." Well I always thought that Kurt Cobain was singing "Aunt Maria. Aunt Maria. Aunt Maria." I know I didn't fully believe that these were the real lyrics, but since I didn't know them, I felt more comfortable saying Aunt Maria.

So that's what is in my head. Do you ever hear lyrics a different way than they really are? Are you one of the people who sings "Scuse me while I kiss this guy", "Hold me closer Tony Danza", "Dirty deeds done with sheep" or "I'm not talkin' 'bout the linen, and I don't want to change your life..."? What incorrect song lyrics are in your head?

 - pookon -

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It's in My Head - #14: How Can Han Solo Understand Chewbacca?

How does Han Solo understand what Chewbacca is saying? I'm not insinuating that Han is an idiot. It's just that he seems like he'd be all street smarts and no book smarts. Do you know how much studying and immersion that it takes in order to properly converse in and to comprehend a foreign language? Maybe some people get it better then others, but I took 5 years of French and I don't know a god damn thing about that language. Why do they keep calling me "les incompetents"? Did they ever make a Rosetta Stone series for Wookie? Because I sure as hell have never seen that one. 

I don't even get how that would start out. Welcome to Level One for Wookie. Here is your first lesson: "agggggggrrrrrrhjjj" means "hello". "Fjchhcxhknvsryjm" means "goodbye". "Hyresvhjbf vfhjcdk gdyh" means "thank you". "Hyjdryh bddfgfg ggggggrrrr hhiuuuuugggrr ssssrrrhghh" means "did you see that chick behind the counter at the last space port we stoppped at? What a slut. She wasn't even wearing a bra. I could see her nipples plain as day right through her shirt. What do you mean you got her number? Well I would have, but I had to take a wicked dump cause we've been flying around space for 16 hours and you never stop when I have to go. Then you said we didn't have time to linger because we had shipments to run and a bounty hunter on our ass. You always bag the slutty ones. When's it going to be Chewbacca's time? Ok ok. Sorry I got mad. Did you at least ask if she has a friend for me?" And that's only the first lesson! We have barely even gotten started and I'm already confused. Man, Wookie is tough.

I just think that would be a real challenge because every god damn thing Chewbacca says sounds the exact same. At least to my human ears. Maybe that's because we assume that Han Solo is human. Even though he looks like us, he lives in a galaxy far, far away. He could be anything. For all we know he was born with the ability to speak and understand Wookie and it just comes natural to him. As natural as you and I breathe without thinking about it. How convenient then that he became best friends with Chewie. If you're going to spend your entire life cruising around the galaxy it an old hunk of junk you might as well do it with your best pal. And since it's just the two of you for all of those lonely hours, you have to be able to talk about sports, food, women, farts and movies. It would certainly make for a very long trip if you couldn't tell the difference between "fheyrehnvgujj gghrrhhsh" (which means "if you put on Air Supply one more time I swear to God, I will break your spine in half") and "ghghgeyeyssgsgbbnndnd" (which means "I completely disagree. The Foo Fighters are not overrated. In fact, I think they are one of the most influential American Rock bands to emerge from the Grunge scene.") Because heaven forbid you make the Wookie angry. One false interpretation could lead to you being stuffed down the trash compacter or becoming permanent cargo smuggled underneath the hidden floor panels. 

I used to give Han Solo a lot of shit because he's a shoot first and ask questions later kind of guy. He's kind of selfish and seems like a guy who would turn you in for a couple of bucks. But over the course of time you realize that he does have a heart and a smile resides behind that tough exterior. And watching his interaction with Chewbacca shows how much he cares. He could have easily thrown down a deal breaker with Chewy - either you learn English or we aren't friends anymore. But he didn't do that. Instead he made the effort to learn Wookie so that Chewy would be more relaxed in a unfamiliar territory. I don't know if you noticed, but there are a hell of a lot more people in the Universe that speak English than those that speak Wookie. Of course there was C3PO, but who would want to have that nerd as their only friend? That's how it might have ended up had Han not taken it upon himself to learn Chewy's native tongue. Well, that's what's in my head today. So I have to ask you - "gggaaarrrgghghghvnvnffggthd?" That's Wookie for "what's in your head?"

 - pookon -

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It's in My Head - #13: I Miss Uncle Phil

I watch The Fresh Prince of Bel Air every night. I have forgotten how many times I've seen each one of these episodes. I know it's a lot. I can quote along with them and match the actors line for line. It's a little sickening at first, but then I realized it's part of who I am. I can't help that I'm in love with 90's sitcoms (like Full House, Step by Step and Family Matters). I didn't pick these shows as my favorites, they picked me. Is that wrong? Because if it is, I don't want to be right. Fresh Prince is great because Will Smith is so stupid on the show. He's kind of playing a version of himself, but it's hard to believe that he really is that dumb. I have to imagine he is one of the coolest people of all time. That's what makes me laugh the most. 

It's like when he tries to hit on a girl and he uses the corniest pick-up lines. Or when he dances and it's super embarrassing. Or when he tries to rap and says the stupidest rhymes. Or when he tries to be tough and fights a guy that's bigger than him. Or how he always knocks Carlton for being such a dork, but then goes out and acts like the biggest fool at a party. There's so many more instances, but the basic point is that Will always acts like he is the shit and instead he embarrasses himself. I can identify with Will. I enjoy nearly everything I say and do and am thoroughly entertained by myself at all times. Nobody else sees it that way. Will and I are just obnoxious. But does that stop us from doing it? Hell no. It just makes us want to do it more because we know we can get Geoffrey to crack a smile. We know that someday Uncle Phil will have no choice but to laugh at our jokes. He's the biggest critic of them all.

But watching tonight I got sad about Uncle Phil instead of laughing at Will. I wish he was still alive. I never met him, but I can tell you that he is one of the best Dads ever. He already had to take care of Hilary, Carlton and Ashley (anyone with kids could tell you that even three well behaved children can be a handful) but that didn't stop him from taking one more into his house. And even though Will was just his nephew (through marriage, so he wasn't even blood family) he treated him like a son and always looked out for him. It didn't matter how many times Will made fun of him or got in trouble; Uncle Phil was always there for him. Will didn't really know his real Father, and when he did get to see him, his Dad was a real disappointment. I think that only made him appreciate Uncle Phil more.

Right now I'm watching the episode where Will goes down to the Pool Hall and plays against that big tough guy and loses a bunch of money and the Mercedes Benz. He got hustled in the worst way by the guy's squirrelly little friend. He goes back to Uncle Phil and has to admit his mistake (he wasn't even supposed to borrow the Benz or go there in the first place). Although Uncle Phil is mad, he still goes down to the Pool Hall and hustles the tough guy and wins back the car and the money. He is upset at what Will did and that he screwed up, but at the same time he always has his back. He helps him out, but he also teaches him a lesson. Uncle Phil is the best. I wish I would have known him in life. Maybe in death I will get to meet him.

When I get to Heaven I'm going to hang out with Timmy first. I can't wait to see that kid again. But after that I'm going to hang out with Uncle Phil. He was a straight up man who believed in truth and justice and always stood up for what is right. He was a man that always put his family before him and tried to impart honesty, morals, intelligent thinking and the proper way to act in civilized society. The kids didn't always listen and some might argue that Will corrupted his cousins with his laid back attitude, but I think they all helped each other as they grew into adults. Uncle Phil was always there for his family and seemed to help Will the most. Hilary, Carlton and Ashley probably all would have ended up OK if he wasn't so strict on them. But Will needed guidance and direction in his life. There is no way Will would have ever gone to college in West Philly. He wouldn't have grown up at all. He would have been the same stupid kid who got in one little fight with a couple of guys who were up to no good who started making trouble in the neighborhood. If his Mom wouldn't have gotten a little scared and said, "You're movin' with your Auntie and Uncle in Bel Air." his life would have taken a drastically different turn. He has Uncle Phil to thank for the man he has become. We could all stand to learn a thing or two from him. I miss you Uncle Phil. Thanks for being a father to me as well. 

And yes, I am drunk. This is the kind of thing that is in my head when I've had a few. I start missing the people who had a big influence on my life. Hard to imagine my life without them. But I always have the reruns. For an hour around 9pm and around 1am, Mon - Fri on Nick at Nite. That's 2 of the greatest hours of my day. 2 more hours I get to spend with Uncle Phil, Will Smith and the rest of the Banks family. I wish there was something of more substance in my head than some memories of a TV character that I never met, but that's how it goes someday. What characters from the small screen are in your head?

 - pookon -

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It's in My Head - #12: The Beer is Going Right to My Head

It's hard to think straight when the beer is going right to your head. I can't exactly tell you why, but after I had consumed only about 20% of my beer, I was already feeling a little light headed. Of course there were some extenuating circumstances. The beer I was drinking was Abbey Triple from the Sprecher Brewing Company. If you're not familiar with that beer, trust me when I say that you get slapped in the face pretty hard by the 8.5% alcohol content (by comparison, Miller Lite is 4.2%). We were also drinking out of 1 litre mugs (which are approximately 34 fluid ounces), so 20% is a pretty fair amount. On top of that, we were swinging on playground swings. So after I had that first 20%, I already knew there is no way this night will end well.

So here we are now. The beer went right to my head and then there was really nothing in there. And I'm okay with that. You know why? Instead of sitting around worrying about humanity's biggest problems or how I'm going to pay off all my medical bills or what I need to do to get girls to like me, I just had a good time. I wasn't thinking about yesterday. I wasn't thinking about tomorrow. Hell, I wasn't even thinking about today. I was living life in the moment. I had a beer, I had my best friend, there was live music, I was outside and I was on a playground swing. So what it all boils down to is that there was nothing in my head and that was alright with me. I realize it doesn't make for an interesting or entertaining story, but not everything in life has to be like that.

Sometimes we qualify life as a series of moments: you're born, you say your first word, you take your first step, you have your first birthday, you have your first day of school, blah blah blah, kiss your first girl (or guy), get your first job, graduate from school, move out of the house for the first time, get married, buy your first house, have kids and so on and so on and so on. You all know that kind of crap that people list as significant life moments. Now I don't want to downplay them, because that kind of stuff is important. But what about the days in between those moments? That's what life is really all about - the little things that happen that form who you are and who you are going to be. You don't often talk about them because at the time they just seemed so mundane and normal. Think of how many pictures you take when you go on vacation versus how many you take of "normal" life. It's not even close.

But I will argue that normal life is spectacular as well. You just don't realize it at the time. And that's what this was. This was a real normal day in my life. If not for this "It's in My Head" series of posts, I probably would not have spoken about this day. And although nothing really happened, it didn't matter because for at least some small amount of time, I was having fun and not really caring about all the things that make you feel angry or sad. There was nothing in my head and I wouldn't have had it any other way. Does that make sense to you? Do you ever feel the same way? If you have something instead of nothing, I'd like to know. What's in your head?

- pookon -

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It's in My Head - #11: Some Dick Bought Me a Beer

And I mean that in the nicest way possible. Last night I went to go see my friend Shayne play at The Landing beer garden at Hoyt park in Wauwatosa. I've known Shayne for a very long time and my brother Timmy played in his band Fadeback many years ago. My mom plays with him and others in a Christmas/Holiday band called Reindeer Pause. Last night it was just Shayne and Tom with their band Sorry, We're Open. My Mom went up on stage and sang a couple of songs with them. My Mom's friend Kathy came out to see her and brought her, well I guess it's her boyfriend, who I think I've met before but never got his name (or my drunk ass never remembered it). But he is a Dick. Seriously. That's his name. It might actually be Richard or Rich or Antonio or His Royal Highness Charles Arthur Wellington III. Christ, I don't know. He didn't show me his birth certificate. He was just Dick. We happened to go buy beer at the same time and he bought me my beer. It's was a 34 ounce Spaten Oktoberfest and it was delicious. I hardly knew the guy but this Dick bought me a beer. We sat and talked for a while. About sports, jobs, money, the neighborhood and just how we were feeling at this current place and time. We clinked our glass mugs together and said Prost. Just two dudes hanging out outside drinking beers together. And although this guy technically was a Dick, he couldn't have been a nicer person. And before he left, he threw me $20 and told me and my sister that the next round was on him. So this Dick not only bought me one beer, but he bought me two!

So what does this have to do with what's in my head? So far I've just recounted events that happened last night. Well let me tell you what's in my head. I don't remember the last time I did something nice for a stranger. Well, except for like hold open a door or another really small act of kindness that would fall into the common courtesy category. I certainly never did anything that would have a form of monetary value like buying someone a drink. I rarely ever buy my friends a drink, and I've known those people for like 10 years. I guess I'm the one who is a dick. But it really got me thinking - this Dick doesn't know me. Sure, he knows my Mother's friend and he knows my Mother and then knows me in a six degrees of Kevin Bacon kind of way. But he doesn't really know me. It's not like we hang out on the weekends and share life experiences. But that didn't matter. He just reached out and did something out of the kindness of his heart and totally made my day. I don't know if he truly understands. To him it's just $30 and I'm sure he's got enough money (well at least more money than I have). But to me it means so much more than that. It's like the Arrested Development song "Mr. Wendal" - $2 means a snack for me, but it means a big deal to you. I wasn't expecting that at all. It just came out of nowhere. Why would this guy that I just met spend his hard earned money on me? What did I do to deserve this?

Even now I still don't get it. I guess I'm jaded. I don't believe that there any decent people left in this World. All I hear about and think about is pain, suffering, the atrocities that mankind commits on itself, anger, hate and evil inhabiting our lives so much to the point that good is completely absent from the human spirit. And boy was I wrong. I guess every now and then it just takes a small act of generosity to remind you that the World isn't as awful as it appears. This World is actually a beautiful place and it is filled with beautiful people who would rather be kind to a stranger then worry about themselves. It's probably the most amazing thing I've witnessed in a long time and it made me want to believe in humanity again. And it was the stupidest little thing too. You don't want to think something like that can change your perspective or change the world, but it can. Everything has to start somewhere and the easiest way to do it is to start small. A random act of kindness can go a long way. I know next time I have the chance to surprise somebody with the unexpected or to pay it forward, I hope I will remember to do it. Because I know how amazing it feels when someone else does that for you. And to think, all it took was some Dick buying me a beer. An idea that's been around since mankind first walked this Earth is what is in my head today. Just be nice to other people and treat them with love and kindness. It's the simplest, most basic idea. What kind of simple idea is in your head?

 - pookon -

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It's in My Head - #10: Everybody Loves Monkeys

They say that everybody loves monkeys. Shit, I go to the zoo just to see the monkeys because they make me laugh. And why not? I mean they do acrobatics, swing from trees and throw their own poop. Monkeys always look like they're having a great time. Monkeys are like the goofballs of the animal kingdom. When monkeys start laughing and fall over I can't help but giggle and shake from my head down to my toes. And monkeys are cute too. Just look at Curious George, the curious little monkey. He was always getting into shenanigans and the Man with the Yellow Hat always had to bail him out. Oh George, you curious little monkey and the Man in the Yellow Hat would smile. Did that asshole have a name? How annoying is it to always call him the Man with the Yellow Hat instead of Bob or Steve or Dave. Seriously. Give him a god damn name. Wasn't his Mother supposed to do that? But I digress... Everybody loves monkeys. I thought I did and then I saw Dawn of the Planet of the Apes.

F*** monkeys. Seriously. Riding on horses, shooting guns, swinging through the trees, lighting things on fire and wait... they can talk too? Time to pack up my things and go home. Those aren't the kind of monkeys I love. But if those are the kind of monkeys that are going to take over the World, then I'm out of here. I always thought it was going to be the "Hey Hey We're the Monkees" that were going to take over the World. I think I could live happily in a World controlled by Peter Tork, Micky Dolenz, Davy Jones and Michael Nesmith. But those scary ass monkeys in the Apes movie? F*** that. I totally would have pulled a Gary Oldman and blown up the goddamn building. Kill them all!!! Burn in hell you monkey bastards!! No monkey talks back to me. I don't care if he walks around and knows how to throw a spear. Dude, if I say like, "Oh, it's really a nice day to walk in these woods" and then all of a sudden a monkey pops out of nowhere and says to me "Human, get out of my woods! You're not welcome here!" then I might just have to punch that monkey in the face.

I don't care if I'm starting a war. Seriously, who's going to win in a war of dudes against monkeys? I know the movie like already said that monkeys are going to win since we already know the future of these Planet Apes movies. We know that Charlton Heston is going to stumble upon these guys sometime in the distant future. And of course we all know he's going to drop down to his knees and yell out, "YOU MANIACS!! DAMN YOU!! GOD DAMN YOU ALL TO HELL!!!" That's fine. That's where these monkeys can all go. I'm sure as hell not going to invite them over for my birthday party. "Hey mom - these are my friends. Walking, talking monkeys who want to eradicate the human species. Can they stay for cake?" And my Mom will be like, "I already have to deal with you and your sister acting like monkeys, now I gotta deal with real monkeys? And the kind of monkeys that want to take over the World and enslave the human population?" And then Mom will be like, "See you later bitches, I'm out." I doubt my Mom would actually say bitches, but you get the point.

The thing is, this is just a movie, but I'll be damned if I let this sort of thing happen on my watch. I'm not much into violence, but if an uprising of monkeys wants to start some shit, you damn well certain I'm going to finish it. No Monkey is above me on the food chain. I'll even prove it. I will kill a monkey, put a stick up his ass and roast him over the fire. Then I'm going to slather some barbecue sauce over his seared flesh, take a big ol' bite and yell out, "Who's eating who on the food chain now monkey? Planet of the Apes? More like Planet of the Grapes. Seedless!" And I don't even know what that means. All I know is that I got a mouthful of monkey meat. A mouthful of THAT MEAT! And I'm washing it down with the tears of your monkey wife and your monkey kids who are watching me eat you. Good God I'm a sick bastard. What happened here? I set out to talk about monkeys and now I'm eating them while their wives and children watch? I guess all it takes is some dystopian apocalyptic future in a movie to completely sway my opinion about one of the animal species that used to make me laugh. Who's laughing now monkey? That's just a small sample of the things that are going on inside of my head. As you can see, I'm not monkeying around. What kind of Monkey Madness is going on in your head?

 - pookon -

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It's in My Head - #9: Raiders of the Lost Fridge

One of the first things I always do when I go over to someone's house is raid the fridge. If it's a stranger's house or if I'm there for the first time, I'm not just gotta plunder that treasure chest and have their moms thinking, "What kind of pirate did my son bring over?" I at least have a little respect for others and their possessions. But if I'm at my Mom's or a relative's house, it's finder's keepers, loser's weepers. Most times I'm not even hungry. But it's just such a normal behavior. It's like why Indiana Jones keeps going on all these adventures despite the fact that he probably gets a pretty good salary as a college professor (with a Doctorate at that). In the classroom you don't have to worry about snakes. For someone who is deathly afraid of them like Indy, you'd think he'd be choose anything but snakes and kick back and collect a paycheck. But being a college professor is not comfortable for Indy. I'm also not comfortable being a "college professor", so I venture into the fridge searching for idols and buried treasure. I have to admit that searching through the fridge is me going on an Indiana Jones adventure. And me not eating food is like Dr. Henry Jones Jr. teaching an archaeology class. I only feel normal don't feel quite so alone when I've got some food to keep me company. So I guess that's how I got to be where I am today. Couldn't stop raiding the fridge. Even Indiana Jones would take some time off in between fighting Nazis and false gods who rip your heart out. You can't always be out searching for priceless biblical artifacts. So I shouldn't always be eating.

But hey! Some of that stuff is beautiful and it's filled with richness beyond belief! But it also comes with a warning - "You must choose, but choose wisely, for as the real grail brings eternal life, the false grail brings death". So far I've chosen poorly. Something has got to be done about it. I'm not going to live to be Indiana Jones' age if I keep Raiding the Lost Fridge. How am I going to stop? How do you break a habit? How do you unlearn something that you have taught yourself and have practiced meticulously every day for your entire life. You stop because you have to, not because you want to. You stop because your body is fighting back because you are abusing it. You stop because your bank account can't handle any more medical bills. You stop because people secretly make fun of you behind your back for being overweight. You stop because women don't find you attractive and they never will. You stop because you're never comfortable - not sitting down, not standing up and definitely not while in motion. You stop because if you don't, you're going to die. Time for me to stop.

Refrigerators and Indiana Jones are in my head. Raiders of the Lost Fridge sounds like a goofy spoof title of a movie I'd like to see done with claymation. I didn't expect to take a dark turn. The refrigerator light is usually on to guide me. But the door has been closed and sometimes I go down that path. That's what happens in my head - the best intentions to be funny and to not take things seriously sometimes have to be realistic. Because death is not a laughing matter. We're all going to die. The World has already established that for us. There is no Holy Grail that will give eternal life. Life isn't a race, so why am I trying to cross the finish line before all of you do? I don't know. I never had an answer for that one. Why didn't that appear in my head? What impulses in your head do you have to resist?    

 - pookon -

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It's in My Head - #8: Why the Hell is the Moon Out?

I don't get to choose what it is in my head. Sometimes it's divine intervention from the Man upstairs. A lot of times it's a reference to a movie. It can often be a nostalgic memory. But most days the Universe chooses this for me. I just walk out into the world and then - bam! It just hits you. It's like a bolt of lightning. Please Marty, don't say that! But I have a lot of Great Scott moments and then I realize what is there right in front of me. It's the Universe showing me something and then all of the sudden my head starts going to work like all those little Keebler Elves in the tree slaving away so all you f****** can eat some cookies. But hopefully my head gets better pay and benefits. And so in my head there were two things today - "Why the hell is the moon out?" and "It's Mac Tonight." Believe it or not these two things are related. One of them was said by one of my best friends and the other one was said by a hip and cool dude who I wish was one of my best friends.

"Why the hell is the moon out?" That's a question Jenny Reck has wanted to know for a very long time. I don't remember exactly how long because I was probably 7 years old, but we were driving somewhere in the old van with the sliding door and it was early evening. Jenny looked out the window, and with no hesitation, blurted out, "Why the hell is the moon out?" I was in shock because I was taught that swears are bad. She had heard the word hell used in this sense but didn't really understand what it meant. Of course my parents disciplined her and told her that's not how we talk. If only she would have listened because she grew up to have a filthy little mouth (which I completely blame myself for because of the way I talked around her, but I'd also like to think that society played a role as well. It was tough growing up in the 90s when you were surrounded by people who told you to to eat their shorts). That's really all I remember about that, but every time I see the moon I almost always ask, "Why the hell is the moon out?"

Well tonight it was out, and it was out looking to party and bang a couple of stars. It was cruising the strip high on, let's just call it life, and looking to charm the panties off of the ladies by tickling the ivories and singing a jazzy lounge song about hamburgers. "When the clock strikes, half past six babe. Time to head for golden lights. It's a good time for the great taste, dinner at McDonald's - it's Mac Tonight!" That's right kids of the late 80s, his name is Mac Tonight and he's getting all up in my head! You know you want access to this club. This guy is coming out of retirement to do one more round of jovial late night dinner inspired jingles before he retires to that big old canvas in the night sky. Mac Tonight wants to go out on top. He doesn't want to be playing state fairs and hotel lobbies. For a couple of years this Moon Man was King of the World. He had it all, but yet he felt empty inside. McDonald's used him and then tossed him out like a clamshell styrofoam Big Mac container. 

But now that retro is back in style, Mac is reaping all the benefits. Well just the other day I saw him hitting on this broad and he was like, "Do you remember me? It's Mac Tonight." And she was eating it all up. He was laying it down thick too, like special sauce. And then when he said, "I want to put my meat between your sesame seed buns" I knew I had to jump in and say something. But Mac wasn't happy. It turned out me trying to "save" this broad from a night of regret turned out to be the ultimate cock block. Mac quickly escorted me out to the giant Grimace and proceeded to kick the shit out of me. As he walked away, I tried to say something. I wanted to apologize. I shouldn't have done that. Mac Tonight is a legend and I shouldn't mess with his game. But all I could manage to say was, "Ask if she has a lady friend for me". That only enraged Mac further, which is how I ended up spending the next 10 months in Officer Big Mac's Jail. I was originally sentenced to 2 years but I got off on good behavior. And by good behavior I mean some kids totally peed in there and they were forced to tear the thing down. I never saw Mac again, but I hope wherever he is that he's happy. I never meant to do anything to hurt him, and if our paths cross again I hope we can still be friends. Maybe we can start a band called Scotty Mac Tonight. One can dream right?

So I saw the moon. It was bright, it shined and it was a glorious sight to behold. But while others see a celestial object in the sky, I think about my sister's first crack at profanity and my old pal Mac Tonight. That's what is in my head. My head is a twisted place. What kind of twisted thoughts are in your head?

 - pookon -

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It's in My Head - #7: Did You Ever See that Scene in Scanners?

To be quite honest with you, neither had I until not too long ago. I knew about it from Wayne's World, but I had never seen Scanners. I got the reference, but I wanted to see what it was all about. So I went to this beautiful thing called the Internet and I found the clip on YouTube. You can check it out below but I would exercise caution if I were you. It's pretty brutal (but actually pretty tame compared to the violence we see in movies and TV these days. I still don't understand why people are so obsessed with and OK with extreme violence and gore. But that's another thought for another day). Today this was in my head because it felt like my head was going to explode. I try not to take things too seriously and get all stressed out, but today I couldn't help it. 

Normally I like to leave my work at work. I do not want to think about that place after I've left there. But today it's kind of still in my head. And today what was inside my head made it feel like it was going to explode. We are short staffed at work and also hella busy. I was getting so frustrated at one point that my head started hurting from thinking too much. I had to lean back for second in my chair and just do nothing for a minute. And that's when I started laughing. Cuz right after the pain stopped, I said out loud to myself, did you ever see that scene in scanners when the dude's head blew up? And then I imagined my head exploding (insert explosion noises). The rest of the day was fine after that.

That's about it man. I was thinking too much to notice what was going on in my head and then my head exploded and there was nothing going on in my head. But then I got home and this was in my head. I watch too many movies...

Warning: this scene is definitely messed up. Don't watch it unless you have problems...

There's always something going on in my head, even after it has exploded. I can't stop it man. It's just a part of my life I guess. As long as my head only explodes inside my head instead of exploding for real. We can't have that. I's only October 7th. I have too many more of these to do and I kind of need my head to do it with. It's part of the title. This series of posts wouldn't work if they would be called, "It Would Have Been in My Head, But My Head Exploded and It's Actually Residing in Some Airspace Where My Head Used to Be." That's not as catchy and succinct. So I'm not going to let my head explode so that I can keep the things in my head... in my head. How about you? Is your head still in tact? It didn't explode, did it? If your head is not exploded, I must ask - what's in your head?

 - pookon -

www.pookon.com

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It's in My Head - #6: It's Out of My Hands

It's hard to not be in control. We like to keep calendars full of appointments, weekend plans and events to watch or participate in. We like to drive our own cars and make all our own decisions. But there's some things in life that are out of your control. And you struggle to accept it. You get angry, sad, confused and you might start questioning your beliefs. But hopefully you will eventually realize that if it's out of your control, you have to let go and let somebody else take it in their hands. 

Every year my Mom sings for this Walk to Remember event. It's a day of remembrance for people who have lost children for them to all get together for support, prayer, guidance or just to know that there's someone else out there just like them and that they're not alone. And some of the years I've gone with her to fly a kite. (I went into more detail about this last year when I featured this in a Pickle the Day article). It's a simple task so much to the point that a kid can do it. But it means so much. Written on the kite are messages of love from the families to their children that left them too soon. This kite starts on the ground and then flies up towards the heavens, taking these messages with them. It's an honor to be able to take part something like this. I don't know what it's like to lose a child, but I know what it's like to lose a close family member. I know it's not the same, but even for me it's a day filled with many different emotions.

In my head today was the thought that sometimes you just do the best you can and then trust that someone else is there to help you. I had one job - to put the kite in the air and leave it there until it's time to bring it down. But what if there is no wind? What do you do then? There wasn't a steady wind as it came and went as it pleased. Sometimes I could get the kite up for a couple minutes and sometimes it was only for a couple seconds. In order to get the kite to fly I had to let it go and trust that the wind would pick it up and take it where it needed to go. It was not within my control to make the wind blow. There was nothing else I could do but to believe. Sometimes I was disappointed that the wind didn't help me out. But did that ever stop me from trying? Of course not, because I still believed that if I put it out there, something else would grab a hold and help me out. But I did feel like a failure because I wasn't able to, on my own, keep the kite up in the air. It was out of my hands.

But what I realize now is that it didn't matter if I was in the air for 5 seconds, 5 minutes or 5 hours. It just had to be up there. It's one thing to believe, but sometimes it is important to see to have some visual representation of an idea. I give a lot of respect to those who can believe without having to see. I'm still not sure what I believe in. I don't know if I'm supposed to. But I do believe that I can't do everything on my own. Sometimes I still need my Mom to hug me and say everything is going to be OK. Sometimes I need Jenny Reck to just be there to lighten the mood and make me laugh. And sometimes you just have to let go and give it up to an unknown power and let it out of your hands. These are the things that are in my head. Even though it's my head, I still don't feel like I'm in control. They just come to me and I have to deal with them. But this is only my opinion based upon what's in my head. Do you agree with me or do you disagree? If you too have an opinion on this, I must ask - what's in your head?

 - pookon -

www.pookon.com
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It's in My Head - #5: The Joy of Laughter

There are a lot of things they were in my head today. Things that cannot be repeated, that should not be repeated and will not be repeated. Too bad that I have a recording of them. That means you probably will hear them someday (via The Daily Burner) because that nonsense always finds a way to get out in the open. That's kind of how I roll. If I really wanted to, I could get into specifics. I could give you the play by play dialogue of all the ideas, thoughts and things that were and were not spoken. But I'm not going to. Because none of that really matters when looking at the big picture. I don't need to show all of the individual pieces because what happened in my head could be summed up in a feeling - the joy of laughter.

I'm intentionally being cryptic because there's no sense in wasting time explaining why my night was filled with laughter. This isn't a well thought out story that has a clear cut beginning, middle and end. This is a hastily thrown together post that was conceived at the last minute because only now has my face stopped hurting from smiling too much. Ever have a good laugh? I mean a really good laugh where it hurts so much you want it to stop but at the same time you never want it to end? Try stifling that for 45 minutes when your friend is utterly ridiculous and unbelievably genius at the same time (because it is unprofessional to break character when recording). It's so stupid that it is brilliant and too brilliant to be stupid. I don't understand how someone can come up with something wholly original but familiar at the same time that makes me lose my mind.

But it was the those things in my head that made me laugh so hard. I know I have great ideas. But these ones wouldn't have been so great if I had kept them to myself. When I shared them, they became our ideas and the other side of the story was told in a way that I could have never imagined. I had one vision, one plan and one method for madness. It's amazing what another person can do when you let them get inside your head and they let you get inside theirs. That's the only way this kind of laughter was possible. If it wasn't for my frequent collaborator, I would have just been sitting around laughing by myself. But instead we were making each other laugh. I wouldn't have it any other way.

The World is a terrible place. I do my best to ignore it, but no matter where I turn there is anger and sadness. It can really drag you down into very dark places if you let it overcome you. But that is when the pure joy of laughter is needed the most to lighten the mood and bring you back up again. I get that there is a time to be serious and that there is a time to cry. But you can't let that be all the time. I often find myself making that mistake. So I add humor and a little bit of nonsense to daily life, when I'm with other people and when I'm alone. But those are just normal laughs. If you find someone who can make you laugh just as hard as you make them laugh, make sure you tell them how much you appreciate it. Make sure that person is a big part of your life. This was exactly what I needed. I needed to laugh in a way that few people understand. So Cousin Kevin, thanks for being the bane (pun intended) of my sadness. I told you what was in my head, and I thank you for sharing what was in your head. A million laughs pal. 

 - pookon -

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It's in My Head - #4: Bringing Suspenders Back

I've had to start wearing belts lately and I don't like it. My pants just don't fit right. Talk about your first world problems. I know that I shouldn't even be wearing pants to begin with. Pants should be optional, and by optional I mean not necessary. But we live in a World that's not ready to deal with the pantsless man. But that's another story for another day. My pants don't fit right because I've lost a bit of weight. Not enough that you won't recognize me and be like, "Oh! Who's that sexy skinny man?" But it's enough that my pants don't sit comfortably around my waist like they used to and they are in danger of falling to the ground. So I have to deal with it. And that's where the belt comes in. But what if I don't want to wear a belt? What if there was another choice? Oh but there is. I could bring suspenders back.

But let's not kid ourselves. Suspenders never really went anywhere. You're probably thinking the opposite right now. Who was the last popular guy to rock the suspenders? For that we have to go back to the 90's. Remember that kid that used to hang out with the big guy Carl Winslow who loved cheese and used to say "Did I do that?" Of course you do. That kid was none other then pop icon Steven Q. Urkel. Some might call him a nerd, or a dork, or a loser. Whoever said that couldn't be more wrong. That kid had such a big heart and all he ever wanted was to be loved. By Laura, by Carl, by Eddie and by the millions of people that watched him on TGIF and in the afternoon in syndication. We already know that Harriette, Grandma Estelle and especially Myra, loved the shit out of him for the boy that he was and for the man that he was going to be. Steve was many things - a friend, a neighbor, an inventor, a lover and a suave gentleman (as Stefan Urquelle). But he was also a wearer of suspenders.

So that's why I'm bringing them back. The World needs suspenders just as much as it needs peace. But I'm thinking that I need them more. Pants need to stay up just like kids on Christmas Eve waiting for Santa. I know that I could rock some suspenders and look really good while doing it. It doesn't matter what I'm wearing. I could wear them with a polo shirt and khakis as part of my business casual attire at the office. They would go with a t-shirt and shorts ensemble that I don as I leisurely go about my day off. I could even wear it in conjunction with my Brewers attire when I attend a game at Miller Park. And in the bedroom I could be topless and the suspenders are the only thing keeping my pants on, which is sure to make the ladies squirm with anticipation. Without the suspenders, they would be getting the whole package. But I hold something back. With suspenders I could be the man that I've always wanted to be. Confident that my pants stay around my waist even in the times that they want to fall down. I would be classy and sophisticated, able to hold my own in enlightened conversations about the real issues concerning our nation's future. I would be stylish, yet reserved. My life would be forever changed. And I would have the suspenders to thank for it.

So what's the harm in bringing them back? What could possibly go wrong? They would hold up my pants and at the same time hold up my confidence. I'm at a crossroads in my life. I need this more than ever. This isn't just a fashion choice; this would be a lifestyle change. So the next time you see a robust and jovial man strutting around town wearing suspenders like he owns the world, pay attention to what he does. Because that man is me. And that man is somebody of great importance. That man is going to change the world. No one saw this coming. Everyone just figured one day that man's pants will fall off and he will be nothing but a one-note joke. "Look at the guy with no pants!" they all said. But what they didn't see was a man with ideas in his head. And if you try hard enough and if you believe in yourself, you too can be just like that man. He's bringing back suspenders. What's in your head that you are bringing back?

 - pookon -

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It's in My Head - #3: Why Don't They Have Light-Up Shoes in My Size?

Why don't they make light-up shoes in my size? When Im walking through Famous Footwear and I'm by myself browsing through the little boys shoes, I get stares. No no no no no no Miss - you don't understand. I'm not here to molest your child. I'm just grabbing these light-up shoes. I figure if I have the store model display I can ask the clerk if they have them in my size. Because I didn't see any of these in the men's section. That's when the mothers clutch their children's hands and briskly walk out of the store looking for a mall security guard. And to think I could've easily avoided this awkward situation if the store would just stock light-up shoes in my size. 

But it turns out it's not the store's fault. The shoe companies don't make light-up shoes in adult sizes. This is an travesty folks. When you were a kid, they never warned you that you'd have to deal with depressing things like this when you became an adult. I don't even know how to properly handle this right now. What kind of God forsaken 3rd World Country are we living in? What is this? I thought this was America - the land of the free. Where I have independence to choose whatever shoes I want. Well, except if I want to choose light-up shoes in my size I guess. 

You all remember these right? With the little LED lights in the soles that all of the other kids had but you didn't because you're a middle class family with 4 kids and a stay at home mom? Those looked like the coolest shoes of all time when I was a kid (well, except for MC Hammer's magical talking shoes on Hammerman). Hell, they still do when I'm an adult. I'm super jealous of every kid who has them. And if that kid wearing the light-up shoes just happened to have size 12 feet, I might just have to beat him up and steal his shoes. I'm anti-violence and I cannot even fathom an acceptable situation when it's OK to hit a child, but I would punch some kid right in his privileged little face if he was wearing my size light-up shoes and wouldn't share the wealth. That punk ass little kid is going down. And I'll speed off fast in his/my light-up shoes.

But is there a big enough demand for this product? I guess not. Because if there were enough level-headed people like me in this World, I could go to Payless and BOGO the shit out of light-up shoes in size Men's 12. Here's a little Business 101 for you (although in my 7 years of college I doubt I ever took that class. And I took every class available to keep me from graduating and becoming an adult) - if there is no demand, then there is no supply. Nobody's asking for light-up shoes pal. Believe me, I Googled it. I'm upset that I didn't find much. And I'm also upset that the second suggestion that displays when I type "kids light" is "kids lighting themselves on fire". Who is looking for that sort of thing so often that it's a popular search suggestion? Good God something is wrong with this World. I just don't understand it any more. 

But anyway, the only things I found online were "How to Make Your Own Light-Up Shoes" and some random overseas sneaker companies that would custom make them for you at a hefty price. Look, I'm not paying $125 for light-up shoes. I don't care that this purchase would make me the happiest adult in the world. There's just not enough room in the family budget to buy $125 shoes. But if the return on my investments is twofold and the Dow Jones has a really good quarter, I could see myself going as high as $75. But seriously, I'm really only looking to pay around $50. That's the kind of World I want to live in. And that's the kind of World that exists in my head. So if the blinking light-up shoes didn't break your concentration and if you didn't have a photosensitive epileptic seizure, I'd like to know - what's in your head?

 - pookon -

www.pookon.com
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It's in My Head - #2: The John Woo Shooting Range

Today as I was walking down the hallway at work from the break room to the bathroom, I put my hands behind my back. Then, in slow motion, pulled out two imaginary guns and started shooting at Sean Archer (John Travolta) while explosions went off all around me. Yep, I was pretending to be Castor Troy  (Nicolas Cage) at the beginning of Face/Off. The real world is tough and work is a place I have to go to every day if I want to get paid. Gotta get that money! So while I'm there I try to escape from it for a little bit. If that means reenacting a scene from a movie in the hallway by myself, then so be it. But this just isn't any movie. Oh no no no. This is Nic Cage at his finest, first as the psychopath Castor Troy and then as the strung out desperate FBI Agent Sean Archer wearing Castor Troy's face and pretending to be a complete psycho. I'M CASTOR TROY!! WOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!! I love (but I'm not in love with) Nicolas Cage and I could watch this movie at least once a week. I'll probably end up watching it tonight at some point. But what if I didn't just have to watch the movie? What if I could somehow be in the movie? That's what's in my head today. 

I'm not talking about poorly superimposing myself into the movie or asking a friend who is good at CGI to insert my performance in there somewhere. I'm not talking about waiting around for virtual reality to advance like it is on the Holodeck on Star Trek where you can be in the movie (although that would be outstanding). Maybe someday, but that's not what is in my head today. I'm talking about what I would do if I had a ton of money. Like an insane amount. Like I was one of those people who had so much money they don't know what to do with it. I know what I would do with it. I would create my own John Woo Shooting Range. If you've ever seen one of his movies (such as Face/Off, Broken Arrow, Hard Target, Mission Impossible II, Hard Boiled, The Killer and any of the movies he made in China) then you know exactly why this is one of the greatest ideas ever. If you don't know John Woo movies, here's a clip from Face/Off to catch you up to speed:

 

The John Woo Shooting Range would have it all - multiple handguns so you can always have one in each hand, crates, walls and random factory stuff to hide behind, fire and explosions, plenty of doves (and other species of bird) and of course - everything will be in slow motion and set to abnormally pleasant music that contradicts the violence unfolding. Beautiful mesmerizing slow motion. I can picture it in my head right now. I would be trying to corner a robot version of my arch enemy and he would be as crafty and cunning as I am. We would know each other strengths and weaknesses and be able to anticipate each other's moves. It would be something spectacular. And I would be right in the middle of it. 

I'm strongly opposed to guns and violence. I believe that guns are a part of the problem and never a part of the solution. I've only held a gun once and it was unloaded. The first time I went down to South Carolina I asked Officer Werner if I could check out her police gear. I didn't like the gun. Even without any bullets it felt too powerful, almost like it was a power not meant to be welded by mankind. We have no business playing God and choosing who lives and dies. But that's not what the John Woo Shooting Range would be like. In here I wouldn't be playing God, I would be playing Sean Archer. Or Ethan Hunt. Or Riley Hale. Or Chance Boudreaux. I would be the hero. It would be spectacular.

But why stop at The John Woo Shooting Range? Why not also build the Michael Bay Shooting Range? Handguns could still be used, the action would be quick and fast (with scenes lasting at most 3 seconds so that you had no freakin idea what was going on), explosions would be huge and unnecessary, stylish luxury cars would zoom around, there would be a shit-ton of product placements and the place would be littered with scantily clad Victoria's Secret models. Oh yeah - and don't forget the pop rock soundtrack featuring Aerosmith. I could be Martin Lawrence and Jenny Reck could be Will Smith. We'd be spouting catch phrases and trying to remain best friends at the same time.

I can't wait to get mega rich so that I can build this joint. I've got all the plans laid out, now I just have to figure out a way to get all that money to realize my dreams. Too bad that idea didn't creep up in my head instead of this one. But you have to come up with the plan so you aren't stuck swimming in a giant bin of money like Uncle Scrooge McDuck. He's got all that money just sitting there wasting space when it could be invested in The John Woo Shooting Gallery. I should probably give that old miser a call. What's his number again? And while I chase down Launchpad McQuack for Mr. McD's number, give me a call and let me know - what's in your head?

 - pookon -

www.pookon.com
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It's in My Head - #1: Zombie

I get bored pretty often. Being ugly and mean to your friends often brings upon those results. So I have no one to blame but myself. Look, I'm not complaining here folks so don't start crying for me or throwing garbage in my general direction. I'm just stating the obvious. My Uncle Rick once said that there's a positive in every scenario. Here's this one - my boredom leads to creative outbursts. Last year I had two really good ones. In June of 2013 I did The Write Month, where I decided to write every day because I was sorely lacking in that department. Then later that year in October I decided to do another daily adventure in what I called Pickle the Day, where I took a picture every day and talked about it. Both of those adventures can be found in the "From the Archives" section on the right. But that's old news. Here's what I feel like doing this October - It's in Your Head.

When I say "your head" I don't really mean your head (author's note: I have since changed the title to It's in My Head). Although if you do want to tell me what's in your head, comment below or on Facebook when I share the daily post. It's what's in my head that I want to talk about. There's a lot of things moving around in there. I'm no different than any other human being. People have thoughts and ideas all the time. But mine are special. Mine are unique. You know why? Because they belong to me. I'm the only one who has them. Even if it sounds like something that already exists, chances are I'm going to put my own spin on it and offer up my opinion. After all - it is in my head.

I came up with the idea a while back. It's too simple to not use for a daily feature. Why? Because every day I can literally write about anything. Any stupid little idea that pops into my head. Like Zombies. Why Zombies you ask? And why capitalize it even though that is not grammatically correct? The answer to the first question is because of the song by The Cranberries. The answer to the second question is because I feel like it. If you've never heard the song Zombie, then I implore you to click on the play button above (if you haven't already done so). When the question of what's "in your head?" is asked, the logical answer is always Zombies. With their tanks and their bombs and their bombs and their guns. Because in your head they are fighting. But what if they are not fighting? What if they are heading to the local retail store because Macy's was having a blowout sale? Who knows man. Zombies have changed thanks to their immersion into our everyday culture. Thanks to George A. Romero (who started it all), The Walking Dead, The Resident Evil Series (Movies + Video Games), Zombieland, World War Z, the game Plants vs. Zombies and countless others including my personal favorite - Shaun of the Dead. You know about Zombies. But are they in your head?

They are in my head thanks to my brother Timmy (who loved The Cranberries more than any young man should) and my sister Jenny (who would obnoxious belt out the song while I played it on guitar). Sometimes I think - were we wrong to cremate Timmy's body instead of burying it in the ground? He died too young and too suddenly to leave behind a list of wishes for his funeral and burial arrangements. Since he loved Zombies so much, shouldn't we have given him the possibility of being one? I know it's a weird thought, but that's what's in my head. I don't think we are supposed to talk about the deceased with what some might consider to be disrespect, but I feel like he would agree with me.

And finally - yes, I know that this song doesn't have anything to do with real Zombies. It's a protest song about the IRA bomb attacks in Warrington, England in 1993 and the violence that led another child being slowly taken away by death. Calling these soldiers Zombies was a slight on the people who carried out the atrocities by mindlessly following orders. Neither sides were willing to negotiate with each other and the silence led to the violence. Or at least that's what the internet told me. When you listen to the lyrics it's actually a pretty freakin' depressing song. Well, there goes my day. And while I cry about the people who were killed due to unnecessary acts of war, I must ask you - what's in your head?

 - pookon -

www.pookon.com
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