Afraid of showing your brain in the changing room?

Today an e-mail arrived in my inbox: ACTUAL PEOPLE SEARCHING FOR REAL SEX RIGHT NOW! It sounds rather surprised at itself. Perhaps in the past it has come tantalisingly close to this perfect combination:

• NOT QUITE ACTUAL PEOPLE (BUT QUITE CLOSE) SEARCHING ...
• ACTUAL PEOPLE UNINTERESTED IN FINDING REAL SEX ...
• ACTUAL PEOPLE SEARCHING FOR KITCHEN ACCESSORIES RIGHT NOW!
• ACTUAL PEOPLE SEARCHING FOR REAL SEX BUT AT A LATER DATE WHEN IT WOULD BE LESS INCONVENIENT IF YOU DON'T MIND!
  

Despite the obvious temptations of a crowd of people lurching through the streets with zombie-like fixation on "se-e-e-e-e-e-ex, re-e-e-e-a-a-a-a-al s-e-x-x-x-x-x", and the coincidence that at work I get e-mails promising me unreal sex with just a few pills (surely this should be investigated), I decide to delete the e-mail as I have something more interesting waiting for me on my PC.

No, I am not talking about porn.

I have my brain on a CD. I went for an MRI scan and afterwards, much to my surprise, they present the results on a CD. I spend a long time looking at, searching for clues for my particular personality quirks (is that particular patch where my epilepsy is lurking, I wonder) and wonder if this is narcissistic. There is something deeply disturbing about seeing the curves and ridges of your spinal chord (it looks depressingly fragile). There is even a setting to flick through my the pictures quickly so you get the impression of floating through your own brain. It's a pretty short journey - I think Alton Towers might have the edge on it.

But mostly, I always thought my brain would be, well, without wanting to be crude, bigger. Perhaps I should contact those people bombarding my e-mail promising "massive increases in the size of my love equipment" if they have anything for any other areas.