My Huge Head
My name is Jimmy and I have an absurdly large head. It’s so big, in fact, I think the most appropriate description might be that it’s similar in shape to a humongous melon and in size to a heavy bag. I’ve heard the term “big head” used in many different contexts and I’m here to dispel the myth that it might be, in some uncanny way, a positive feature. It has not proven to be this for me. Aside from six and a half action-filled years as a mascot for my university’s football team, (I was the Carnegie-Mellon Mellon), my ginormous head has made my life miserable.
I’m clearly in the minority in this country, having such a huge head. It’s like I’m a novelty toy in Spencer Gifts that no one really buys. “Hey look at that guy’s head, it’s HUUUUUUUUUUGE.” Then they move on. There are repercussions for such actions, however: hurt feelings. My hurt feelings. I soon hope to be able to inflict physical punishment as well, as I’m mastering the ancient art of voodoo. How appropriate would that be, a witch doctor with a sickly big head? I’d be like a cartoon character.
For a while, things were going well for me. People seemed to accept my grossly large head until Mike Myers had to make So I Married an Axe Murderer. That brought the fury on again as people saw it was perfectly acceptable in mainstream society to ridicule someone else’s dome. If I hear one more quote from that movie I’m going to head-butt someone, smash them like a small bug on the sidewalk.
I would like to squash a popular misconception now: no, the size of my head is not proportionate to the size of my dingy. If it was, don’t you think that would be the first retort? “Holy shit dude, your head is enormous.” “Yeah, well, so is my penis and your mom loves it.” Unfortunately, I am just no good at lying so that comeback is as non-existent as Bea Arthur’s sex life.
Frequently, people refer to the size of a person’s head in reference to an inflated ego. Well, let me assure you, this head here is so huge, I often can’t hold it up myself HGJASHDAKJDSAHLKADF. Like that, right there — my neck just gave way again, and I smashed my head on my keyboard. My confidence is paper-thin due to the size of my head. So please, I ask the public not to further my condition with comparisons to egomaniacs. I ask you, how can I be an egomaniac when my mother is still recuperating from giving birth to a 12-pound head? She still walks as though she passed a horse just yesterday.
Everyday events are painful for me. Why do I have to sit in the last row of a movie theater, a sporting event, or even a public speech just because I create a solar eclipse for anyone standing within ten feet behind me? I provide shade. If only my head truly were so big to house my big brain. Instead, I get brained easily and often when I play paintball. I tried camouflaging my entire head but to no avail as I couldn’t reach my forehead. I have to make a trip to the local firehouse once a week to wash my hair, they hose me down from a distance.
This is my cleansing — not of my head, but of my spirit. I have heard a few clever remarks but for those most common, I still am repulsed. So I will now salute the most imaginative statements celebrating the monstrosity that is my head.
- Excuse me sir, you’re going to need to purchase an extra seat for your head.
- And would your head like anything to eat as well?
- That’s awfully heady of you.
- Where’s your owner?
- Full speed ahead.
- Do you have your own moon?
Maybe its not so much my big head that bothers me; it’s the little things. It’s always the little things in life. For example, you think it’s annoying when you see someone wearing a snap-fit hat on the last snap? Well, I have to tie a rope from one end of my hat to the other. It looks like a bank’s velvet rope.
In this politically correct world, I beseech you, don’t forget the heads. Without the heads, there’d be nothing. Even the big ones.