If you’re “funny in the head” like me, you’ve had to learn how to self-regulate – that is – evaluate your own behavior to determine whether you’re merely “in a mood” or riding the downtown express to Cookoopantsatopolis. Outsiders cannot understand, to them the answer will always be obvious. We know better. Frequently the dividing line between eccentric and incarcerated is only a few shades of gray, and one doesn’t even notice the point at which fun has turned into funkachunkabagooboo. To help all of you out there cursed with the responsibility of being one’s own strictest supervisor, I have devised this simple quiz which can be self-administered whenever needed. If you answer “B” to more than 5 of these questions, you’ve been boodoogelized and should get help as soon as you retrieve your clothes from the dishwasher.

For days I have been tormented by blinding headaches, merciless nausea, recurrent waves of despair, and an overwhelming premonition of impending doom. At last I have discovered the source of my torment. The 2012 presidential campaign has officially begun. I am writing today from the New Hampshire hamlet I inhabit having just come back from voting in the nation’s first primary election. Returning home after exercising the franchise so many take for granted I had what people like me refer to as “an aha moment” – which is to say, I stumbled across an original thought. This is it – mentally ill people are uniquely qualified to redeem the unsightly quagmire we refer to as American politics.

"Why raise the bridge when you can lower your expectations of the river?" Taz Mopula You may be surprised to learn that even the irrational, off-kilter, cattywhumpus and – yes, I’ll say it – whackadoomius among us gaze upon the vast, blank canvas of an unused year and think to ourselves – how can I do better? Of course, in our case this means – how can I be an even shinier wing nut, a more twisted slinky? Way back when, Mark Twain reminded us, “It isn’t easy being eccentric.” This observation is as true today as it was when he said it – which is why I’ve had a good long look my own shortcomings and failures in 2011 and put together a list of resolutions which – with luck – will make my humble blog even funnier in the weeks and months to come.

As 2011 slinks silently towards the exit sign, like a kleptomaniac at a bridal shower clutching a bag from Neiman Marcus, I must take time out from my busy schedule to pen, yet again, the Funny In The Head Family Letter. Naturally, both of us would much rather speak with all of you individually but, between making Halloween costumes for the homeless, managing our halfway house for wayward squirrels, and building awareness for The Hugh Manatee Memorial Foundation, there simply isn’t enough time. (By the way, our new slogan, “Oh The Hugh Manatee Foundation” has been very well received.)

It has been said that - an expectation is a preplanned resentment – and since the holiday season is built upon wave after wave of rosy, grandiose expectations it is reasonable to imagine that an avalanche of resentments ready to sleigh you cannot be far behind. This is particularly true for those of us who every day unwrap that most bizarre of all gifts, commonly referred to as mental illness. As ever, your friends at Funny In The Head are here to help.

Unfortunately for all of us, crime does not take some much-needed time off during the holiday season. On the contrary, society’s creeps, crustaceans, and cellar-dwellers take advantage of our goodhearted generosity during this most expansive time of year to pick pockets, pilfer, and plunder. What’s worse is how they do it. Cleverly employing the techniques used by legitimate charities, these wretches bilk the joyful multitudes of millions by soliciting donations to non-existent charities. Remember – most charitable organizations are entirely legitimate, the work they do is admirable and much needed. That is what makes it so sad when well-meaning individuals are duped by deceivers! Before you give, make sure the recipient is an authorized representative of a legitimate organization.

Holiday gift giving is stressful enough, but shopping for the mentally ill presents an additional layer of challenges. Your friends at Funny In The Head are here to assist, with thoughtful tips that will help you navigate these emotionally demanding situations. Just think of us as an online elf-help group.

The holidays are fast upon us and that means it’s more important than ever to remember what they are all about – the spirit of giving! Specifically, the happiness others experience when they give things to me! Lots of things – flashy, superficial things - digital things made in China – housed in cheap, plastic cases offending the eye with their bawdy, grotesque colors! You betcha! Bring it on! Forget subtlety! At holiday time anything worth doing is worth overdoing; good taste is bad and bad taste is great! At Christmas We Are Children Once Again; Hideous, Greedy Children

"I’m mad about sanity and wild about good manners." Taz Mopula These are wonderful days to be whackadoomius! Awareness of mental health issues is at an all-time high, and those of us troubled by unruly squirrels have a cornucopia of resources to draw upon. But it was not always thus. Medical care specifically targeted towards mental health is a relatively recent phenomenon, and while we all understand our indebtedness to giants like Carl Jung and Oprah Winfrey, lesser lights responsible for pushing the discipline forward are often overlooked. Doctor Zick Meind Pfrawed is one of these unjustly slighted geniuses. Fortunately, a recent surge of interest in this complex, daring man has revealed that his contribution to the field of psychoanalysis is far greater than originally thought.

"Build a better mousetrap and the world will beat a path to your door. However, the mice will switch all your street signs." Taz Mopula One lovely, sunny afternoon, a traveling salesman was driving his shiny new Cadillac convertible down a quiet country road. Without warning, he was rudely wrenched away from his predictable, uninteresting thoughts by a flubadubbadub sound indicating his left front tire had gone flat. The fellow pulled to the shoulder, stopped, and surveyed his situation. Beside him, an imposing wrought iron fence stood sentry before a sweeping, well-manicured lawn. At once annoyed and bemused, he observed the lawn to be studded with solitary individuals wearing white jumpsuits, calmly entertaining each other and themselves. His mystification ended when he saw a large sign that read, "Shady Acres Home For The Deranged".