A clown will not tie me up and throw me in the basement.
There - feel better?
I hate clowns. Hate them. One time, I had to pick up my car from the shop, and my friend, who was a Birthday party clown, did me the favor of giving me a lift. He showed up at my door in full make up and drove me fifteen miles to the shop. In heavy traffic.
In full make up.
Right next to me.
I wasn’t about to complain, since he was doing me a huge favor, but still…
How can I be the first person to mention Killer Klowns from Outer Space?!
My high school put on a production of “Barnum” and I was a clown. Did a few bits of business during the show and also circulated before the show doing clowny things and making balloon animals for the kiddies. I hoped before every show that I’d get a kid to freak out so bad that he’d have to be removed from the building but alas, it didn’t happen.
The director brought in professional clowns to teach us some basics like the balloon animals and juggling and to teach us about the makeup. I was wigged to learn that elderly clowns often suffer from “white lung disease,” similar to the black lung of coal miners, caused by inhaling years worth of talcum or rice powder that’s used to set and seal the makeup.
I was gonna post a link to my clown pic on yahoo but I guess they took down their free picture service a while ago? I dunno.
