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Friday, March 24, 2006

Nick's Guff
Unintentionally Bitch Slapped into Reality by Big Head Caps

Nick Jezarian

bigheadcapslogo.gif Since the article titled “My Huge Head” first appeared on back in April of 2003, I’ve gotten a handful of emails regarding it. There was the one from a man named Cleveland who shared my plight and wanted to compare cranium sizes (he had a 62cm melon himself). On the flip side of the coin, there was the Golf Pro from The Wisley Golf Club in the UK who wrote asking if I could send on a photo of the “Moon head”, presumably to have even more fun at my expense with his mates on the 19th hole. In both cases, I feel bad that I couldn’t deliver. This is because I have a confession to make. I exaggerated. My head is not huge, humongous or planetary in size or shape. It does not resemble the sight of an orange on a toothpick, nor has its weight ever caused my head to collapse and smack on my keyboard. I lied. I’m sorry, Oprah.

It is time I pulled the wool from the world’s collective eyes and shared with them the reality that by everyday standards, my head is probably about average. In hindsight, it is unclear what drove me to blatantly lie about a problem I’ve come to realize is a real hot button with some odd dudes out there. Is there an underground and illegal gigantic-head porn ring? Are babies born with gargantuan heads sold on the black market to scoundrels who then raise them and sell them in the colossal head slave trade, most likely anchored by the Eastern European market? I’ve come to ponder these questions as I look at all my baseball caps and shudder upon remembering I lied about these too. In reality, I can wear an adjustable cap and not use anywhere near all the snaps. I should not have lied, I should not have embellished and while my hats and headbands weren’t stretched, the truth was and for that I am sorry.

Sad to say, I will not have my moment on Oprah where she can burn a pentagram onto my soul for everyone to see. I rue this. This written confession is as close to a cathartic dialogue as I can hope for.

Above all though, I am most sorry that I wronged a little company called “Big Head Caps”. Don Pearson from Big Head Caps wrote to me one day offering help. They had heard my cry of exasperation about my head that was so big it had its own satellite and in rode Big Head Caps on their Big Head White Horse (patent pending). I took their generosity and ultimately that is what enlightened me that I was nothing but a normal-sized head with a body to match. Perhaps in my desire to be unique, to be special, I imagined that my head was fucking ginormous and this brought me solace. Big Head Caps slapped the silliness out of me and I now stand before you, singing their praises.

I chose a hat from their catalog of fine products. It was a bucket cap, black. I was not so ostentatious as to suppose that I should order an XL so I went Large. The hat arrived and I ripped open the box to find pencils and stickers and joy. There was a hat enclosed too. Alas, it didn’t fit, it was too big. The clown removed his clown mask and began to cry. The circus was over and he realized he was not fit for any other work. I was that sad clown and my illusions of possessing a big, fat, stupid head were my clown makeup. Now I’m just an out of work angry clown with no makeup.

Self recrimination can only last so long though. With this in mind there is one thing I’d like to point out to all those who really embraced my story. is a humor site so all those people writing in that had not a shred of humor in their correspondence, maybe they’re the silly idiots and not me. Perhaps my my byline reading Nick Jezarian and the first line of my story reading “I am Jimmy and I have a huge head” was a little misleading that it was not me stepping into an imaginary character. Oh the horro. I plead you however to consider that this is a journal of satire and humor with scant evidence of any non-fiction. Maybe if the people writing in for bortherly solace and their big heads had any big brains, they’d realize I was not the cranial star I claimed to be. Perhaps not. I am left with a heart full of shame. There is a bright side however, I have a cool black bucket cap and a pretty sweet Big head Caps sticker. That’s a lot more than I could have every hoped for when I was a wee lad with delusions of cranial grandeur. So I got that going for me. Which is nice.

Then again, maybe there’s a market for a script about a guy with a tremendously large head who ultimately reveals it was all a hoax. The head wasn’t big, it was just those around the protagonist feeding into the illusion. Seriously, how can that story possibly be any worse than the Shaggy Dog? Anybody have Universal’s number?

Nick Jezarian is clearly a superbly built creation resulting from the union of man, woman, and crustacean. Nick's crustacean heritage contributes to his being mostly belligerent, constantly angry, yet always amused. Considering Nick's criminal spelling and grammar habits, the fact that he is part of the Y.P.R. brain trust doesn't say much about the site. Josh and Geoff have driven Nick's writing to new levels as he sends his Guff to the staff in an elaborate binary code that can only be deciphered by the light of pixie dust. Nick is Y.P.R.'s resident hip-hop expert, as he owns three CDs and once stabbed 50 Cent. Nick's favorite word is "word."