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I Have A Huge Head

I Have A Huge Head

I’ve got another confession to make, and no, I’m not getting the best of you.

It’s not herpes, HIV or a child on the way. This issue is far simpler and mostly just an inconvenience, but I feel like others have this problem and we need to bring it to light: I have a big head AND a pretty damn big ass. Some people have a big head or a large ass, but I got double fucked in the genetics department and ended up with both.

I don’t want to give the impression that I look like Big Head Mode in Goldeneye is enabled; my large head is proportionate to me, not like some Easter Island monstrosity and certainly not a five head. I’ve been told by women that they wish they had my ass, though, and it’s even gotten me laid.

I got my first taste of having a large melon right from the start, as I come from a long line of people with big heads and large asses. I was a C-Section baby, although I was a very average sized infant. I came out of the birth canal at around seven pounds, but looking at my baby pictures, I couldn’t imagine my poor mother passing that boulder. I don’t blame her for opting for an alternative way to pass my big ass head. Even if she could have passed my dome, my ass would have gotten stuck and they’d probably have had to work some magic to pull me out.

Having a big head is a pretty major inconvenience. Any sport I’ve ever played that required a helmet, which is like all of them, also required me to adjust it to fit. This meant having to unscrew it in the store to try to get it on my skull. Even finding a hat that fits is an arduous task. They either look like I’m wearing a yarmulke or they are massive and I look like Dark Helmet from Space Balls. I recently lost (I was drunk at a tailgate) the only hat that I ever really liked, so finding a replacement has not been easy. That “one size fits all” is pure fantasy and absolute bullshit.

Having a large ass isn’t nearly as bad. Every seat is comfortable, I can box people out who are half a foot taller with ease, and my hip check was lethal. In high school, we got hazed something fierce (I was a 4th line practice dummy as a freshman). Among the harsher hazing, the upperclassman used a broken goalie stick (Google this if you don’t know) with holes drilled in to minimize drag. Guess whose ass shattered the damn thing at the handle? My party trick used to be letting people wind up as hard as they want, and still to this day, that goalie stick was the only thing that caused me any sort pain. I have a friend who is built like Mr. Mackey, and I have no idea how he doesn’t fall into the crapper with his two russet potato sized ass cheeks.

On the shittier side, I am only able to wear certain kinds of pants because my thighs and ass are tree trunks (basically Martin St. Louis but a bit taller). Even to this day, I always get my pants a size larger to fit me. In 2016 alone, I lost three pairs of pants to splitting, and pleated pants are completely out of the question. Every day was a struggle, “Would my crotch split open and my sack spill out of my pants?” Ask me how I know this feeling, because it has happened more than once.

While my laughably large ass and head are sometimes an inconvenience, I wouldn’t want it any other way. I guess I’ve grown accustomed to the lifestyle and everything that comes with it. There are a few perks, like being able to hold up a towel solely because my ass doubles as a shelf, or that because I have a big head I have way more room to house my probably large brain that I haven’t ruined with copious amounts of alcohol or CTE from all the years of contact sports. The way I see it, it could be worse. I could have been born without knowing good pizza.

Image via Shutterstock

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Madoff

I specialize in damage control, being the drunkest at any and all functions and social assassination. Always appreciate a strong gif game. Follow me on Twitter. Sometimes I put up cool stuff about golfing at the local dirt tracks.

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