You may think the inside of your brain is filled with wrinkly, ****** tissue, pulsing muscles and veinage beyond compare.

You may think the inside of your brain works three middle-aged men typing away at their first generation apple computers, long folds of paper flying everywhere and constant phone ringing and chatter in the background.

You may think the inside of your brain is nothing but a black abyss. An echo for each thought, the only thing heard. Expanding letters. Each word brightly colored, a soothing voice stretching out each syllable in a whisper.

You may think your brain is in your head.

You may think your brain is in a jar.

You may think your brain is nothing but a jumbled pile of gray matter.

Love your brain. The green elephant flipping switches inside has complete control of your sanity and bowels.