Fuck You, Brain

March 20, 2008

Thanks to the lab rat quantities of Nutrasweet I’ve consumed over the years, I can’t remember simple facts, like my daughter’s birthday, or if I have a daughter.  My terrible memory is one of the reasons I started writing this blog. I go back and re-read the older entries and I have no memory of writing them at all; it’s literally as though a stranger with my exact sense of humor wrote a bunch of stories that only I would find funny.

However, for whatever reason, it turns out that if the event occurred prior to 1990, I can’t seem to forget it, no matter how much I want to.  I was talking with a friend last night, when we realized that we could both vividly conjure up the poster for the movie April Fool’s Day, an utter piece of crap slasher from the 1980s.  For some reason, I will always readily know my childhood friend Michael’s phone number, even though I’ve not dialed it since I lived in England in 8th grade, yet the missus will ask me if I remembered to run some errand on the way home and my only response is “who are you, you strange woman? We should totally do it before my wife gets here.” 

Whenever I’m confronted with this kind of mental breakdown, not only do I curse my lack of memory, but somewhat involuntarily my brain throws in a useless fact as an almost deliberate taunt.  The other day the missus asked if I remembered to deliver a Thank You note she had written and while I had to admit that I hadn’t, I was pleased to remember that the tagline for 1988’s Maniac Cop was “You have the right to remain silent – FOREVER!”



  1. The brain only has so much space to remember things. ANd some things are stuck in there, can’t be removed. So it’s literally a shuttleling of current items to remember in and out.

  2. Homer: Like that time I went to that class on how to brew beer & I forgot how to drive.

    Marge: That’s because you were drunk!

    Homer: And how.

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