Where is the clown?
Clowns are strange beings, some say they were humans once, they also say clowns are, at this point in time just humans with a little paint thrown into the mix. Clowns are creepy, a odd animal that feeds on fast food and on small children’s happyness. Sort of like dementors, only not as evil-looking. That isn’t to say they aren’t creepy. Yes, clowns are verry creepy. But why? Is it because of the paint bit, or the human bit. Some studies say they are just as frightening as any other man with large quantities of paint thrown on the face and neck, receeding hairline, red hair and a fondness for bright red shoes that are one hundred sizes to large.
I don’t think clowns are marsupials, they don’t have pouches, only large trousers but i don’t think they keep their young in there, they would fall out at the first sight of a gun, hunter or any kind of alien. Who wouldn’t?
Clowns are not happy people, on the other hand, camels aren’t happy people either, even though REM had a song about stuff like this, i think it’s very hard to find happy people, or happy clowns, or happy camels, even though most of the clowns and some of the people own digital watches. Aparently the watches don’t have anything to do with the happyness, i’ve tried it, doesn’t work, don’t bother with the watches.
There was once, in a land far far away a really witty and odd story about clowns, and watches, and camels. You see, back in the day, when birds the size of chickens used to regularly fly straight into people’s heads at great speed, leaving them maimed for like, or dead for life (although in this case, most of the rest of the victim’s mind is really a post mortem affair). Well, back in that day, the watches weren’t very popular with camels, or with clowns. In fact, clowns weren’t verry popular with camels either. They used to have great big wars, where they would throw super-aerodinamic chickens at each other from twenty paces. Many clowns died, and many people that were just doing their groceries died too when this sort of thing started going on in the markets and the fast foods. People were not happy about this, as people are, when their heads clear up, they see the casualties, and they don’t look at their digital watches to sink them back into a euphoric, ignorant bliss. Have you ever noticed that when you ask someone what the time is, just after they look at their watch, they look again. Memory ain’t what it used to be. But anywhay, as the story goes, one night, after getting very, very drunk, one of the camels decided it would much rather spend it’s time sitting around and spitting in people’s eye than going about throwing chickens at clowns. After all, it had reached a certain age, it’s tine to get a relationship, have a couple of rows then have some make-up sex start a family and work at a accountant firm and be miserable for the rest of it’s life. Hell, why not! So it did. So it was very unhappy, so it died unhappy and the story concludes.
The war kept going for a couple more years until everybody’s seen the light and got themselves some brand new digital watches, some were blue, some were black, some even had tiny calculators that barely ever worked, but that’s not the point of it you see, there’s a really clever point, and i’ve got it right here. People, clowns or camels can really calm down and not feel everything slidinh out of control if they have digital watches on, it gives them a sense of security, because they now KNOW what time it is, as far as earth’s rotation around the sun goes. Or was that vice versa? You can never be really sure, what with all this quantum stuff going on all around us.
So the clowns took up drinking. This isn’t a good strategy for any sort of species that’s suposed to bring gheer to children and things like that. One of them also had the cunning idea of staring in the movie IT, where it ate children and made a mockery of clowns that still makes me shiver when i see one. This made lots of kinds unhappy about the whole idea of clowns at birthday parties and subsequently crashed the whole clown economy. They still can be seen in malls, on the street and in bars, mostly drunk, and if not, probably waiting to get drunk.
Clowns are clowns will be clowns just like clowns, as the saying goes, but their mating call is wierd, so is the general mating process, it involves baloons in unspeakable ways, and also those noisy things you blow in, and a pink wig. As i’m guessing this is a PG book i won’t bother you with the detailes, and i’ll only mention that people who’ve seen clown mating have never been the same again, something dies in them, destroyed, forever, maybe their humanity, maybe their will to live, either way, something inside them has a gruesome, horrible death. Maybe even their dog.
In a paralel universe, clowns are the major species of the earth, they have replaced humans and are very happy driving their clown cars on their clown roads, going to their clown plants, there they grow clown stuff and turn it into clown food. People have been hunted down like clowns in that dimension and are now only used to make clowns miserable just bi sitting there and being thoroughly miserable themselves, even though they had digital watches to make their lives better and give them a sense of purpose.
Sleepyness is a great big problem when it comes to clowns, the only way they can make it through the day is with incredible amounts of coffee, energizers and crack. Junda like journalists only less professional and less interesting.
THe downsides of clowinig are obvious to any on-looker, you trip over your shoes constantly, you can never match clothing and you have a smile painted on your face. Literaly. And that’s something i imagine makes one really really sad, but that’s just my two cents thrown in. I’m sure it must be verry nice being a clown, probably why people do it, or they might just be te emo kinds of the entertainment world. Even though that would be a wierd scenario.
There aren’t that many clowns in asia, so the tendency is to think that clowns are a western invention, and they probably are, they sing and dance too much to be asian. I don’t even know if they have a equivalent in asia. But the asian ones proably aren’t that agile, what with all the opium they use. Hell, clowns are junkies, high on drugs but mostely high on life, other people’s live. It takes a brave man to try and make other people happy, i know, i’ve tried it a few times, not that that makes me brave por anything but even so, it does generally blow up in your face, or my facve, or someone’s face and they are scarred for lfe. Human beings were probably never ment to be happy, i think the divine Bob(that’s how i call god) just likes to watch us squirm in the mud of existence and maybe, just maybe, he’ll make other people around you happy, probably not bacause he wants them to be happy, or they want themselves to be happy, but to show you what you’re missing. Anyway, i’m having a bad day, i feel like a clown, if you ever ask yourself who the flying frack is this clown person, he’s probably me. I honestly don’t know any other person worthy of such a lowly job. Kids should never be taken to see clowns. It’s much like takingthem to the mall to see santa. They KNOW the mall santa is face, the one at home isn’t, this is a rule. They only see one at home, not one on every floor, in front of every store. Since when has god started advertising wide screen TVs. Why doesn’t he just pay his taxes and other expenses from the presents. I think he would live well off of that. I doubt any child would ever be convinced by a mall clown or santa, but mostly santa. And speaking of the merry old bastard, it’s that time of the day again. Almost anyway, Santa time!
Presents, and no clowns. I for one don’t believe in santa any more, allthough The Polar Express was a really good movie, but i don’t. THe mall wrecked it for me. I am The Grinch. I am notmerry, i am the clown yet i am not. I am confused, i am starting to panic. Don’t Panic!
Can you imagine a clown party filled with clowns? I can’t. I was going to write about it but then i realized that it just doesn’t work in my mind. That much horror, in that little space, one or two rooms.