The Brain Jar

I'm drafting a design for a new amusement park ride. I'm going to call it The Brain Jar.

I got this most scathingly brilliant idea from my daily drive to and from town. Our gravel road has a bit of an erosion problem. Forget hauling your family all the way to the Grand Canyon. We will happily provide you with a much closer midwestern version, the Great Chasm.

It cuts diagonally across our road, at the top of a curved hill. That means all four tires of my T-Hoe descend and ascend its depths separately each time I drive over it. That creates a swaying that could put the Verrazano Narrows Bridge debacle to shame. Our heads are flung first one way, then another, the the first way, then the other. Like a BoBo Doll being pummeled by a preschooler.

My amusement park ride would embody this cranium-sloshing motion. Thank the Gummi Mary, the skull holds that gray matter within its confines. Because the grounds crew would have some slimy messes to mop up otherwise.

I will advertise my noggin-knocker with billboards along the highways and byways of Hillmomba. Oh, and don't forget to buy a T-shirt with a picture of a brain in a jar, swooshing around in clear spinal fluid. That's a must. Cloudy spinal fluid would mean the brain might have an infection. Not cool. Nobody wants to whip around through a mind full of pus. The T-shirts will come in two colors: Gray Matter Gray, and Massive Head Wound Red. Only $26.99. Plus tax. Sizes SM to XXXL. And also a Onesie version for the babies.

The Brain Jar. Coming soon to a tourist trap near you.