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Doily Allergen

Vibe Check: I Touched the Brain Rock and It Moaned


brain rock

I recently began my first year at the University of Iowa, and like any incoming freshman, there were certain rituals I just had to try. I got my picture taken with Rusty the Sloth, I stormed Duke Slater field with my classmates, and I played spikeball on the Pentacrest with some friends. One tradition, however, left me changed.


I had heard from my older brother that anybody who touches the Brain Rock will do well on their next exam. I didn’t really buy into a big rock sculpture having magic tendencies, but I still liked the sentiment behind it. Oh, how naive I was.

So, I placed my hand on the rock, right, and I was really getting into the design. I was traipsing my fingers in all the cracks of the intricate maze on the surface when all of a sudden I heard a distinct low moan. I looked around, but I was the only one there. I stuck two fingers in the rock’s crack out of pure curiosity, and again I heard a moan, the kind you hear after really satisfying a partner.


This freaked me out so I decided to head back to my dorm. Then, I swore I heard a voice call out “Wait, you can’t just get me goin’ and run off!” I turned back, but there was still nobody there. Just the rock.


I ended up spending about an hour with the rock sculpture, rubbing my hands on the top of it, curling my middle and index finger in the various slits, spanking it a little. At one point I was even compelled to spit on it. That last one really got the rock going, and it called out “Yes, master.”


I haven’t seen the Brain Rock since. I have several unanswered voicemails from it, but I’m just not sure how to talk about what happened. I also don’t want to get committed to one campus sculpture so soon into my college career. Maybe it would be interested in an open relationship, that way I could be intimate with other art pieces like those boxes at the Tech Labs or the statue of the old guy on Iowa Ave.

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