I like you, really I do. Even though we have never met, and the only time I have smelled you is when I hit my head running backwards in gym class, I still like you becuase as far as I can tell everything I think I am is contained in you.
You are like my ziplock sandwich bag holding my peanut butter sandwich. Just don’t put oranges in another ziplock sandwich bag in a confined space becuase even though ziplock corp. claims the bags are airtight, it is impossible to miss the tangy acidic bite of orange bread and orange laced Jiff. Or Peter Pan. Or that huge tub you get when you are on welfare.
You are my brain, and I have learned to love you. Mostly because you control my emotions, so you pretty much force me to love you, you sick Stockholm Syndrome lover you.
I hate you brain. I take that back, I didn’t mean for my fingers to do that, sorry. jerk.
No, no, I meant jerk, like the rub you put on beef.
I love you brain.
Where would I be without you?
Probably in West Virginia, but I kid, I kid!
I would most likely be in North Dakota actually, because you can roam around there without a brain and be pretty much okay unless you run into Bison.
Well, not actually “run into them”, that would be weird, seeing as how they are much faster and would most likely not just stand there waiting for your drooling face to slap them in the flank.
You are my brain.
You are big an gray and keep me awake at night moving memories and making things appear that I have never seen.
You are my brain and I am scared of you.
Really, horribly, peeing my pants scared of you.
Big guy.
Filler of head.
Backer of eyes.
Producer of ear wax.
Skull candy.
You are my brain.
I am glad we had this talk.