What happens when eat brains?
My answer? Probably this:
You will contract Mad Squirrel Disease. I am not kidding.*
However, I’m not too worried about zombies eating my brain. Because legitimate mental illness aside, my brain is so defunct that, if eaten, the zombies will probably succumb to Mad Something-Or-Other Disease and they will die. Again.
My reasoning is two-fold:
First, I think too much. Sometimes this over-thinking is to my benefit. For example, the other day I saw toad in my garden. I then spent half an hour on Wikipedia reading about toads.
Henceforth, if I see another toad, I’ll know its taxonomy and gland functions. This is important if I am to continue planting things in my garden and then watching them slowly die at my hand. See? Benefit.
Second, I think too much. Sometimes this over-thinking is to my detriment. For example, if left to my own conclusions, I’d be diagnosed with every horrible disease in the book. I have a headache? Brain tumor! Mosquito bite? Yellow fever! Nothing in particular is wrong? Rubella!
The only thing stopping me from wearing out the revolving door at my local emergency room is a thorough search on WebMD. By the time I’ve confirmed my ridiculous ailment, the symptoms causing such panic have disappeared. This would be reassuring, but since I’ve already curled up on my couch and started planning my funeral, I am utterly beyond any semblance of reassurance. See? Detriment.
Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to toss out that squirrel brain stew I have in my slow cooker. Not that it matters, because I’m pretty sure I felt my heart beating, which can only mean I have bubonic plague. Hmmm.... I better read up on squirrels. And plague.
*Thanks to Burleson Consulting for alerting the world to the dangers of Mad Squirrel Disease. At least one state, North Carolina, has heeded your advice. Next step: pay me to lobby Congress on your behalf. It’s the logical thing to do.