tag twitter user podcasting special 100 word essays, and they can be quite special, johnny knoxville kinda special, special.
The wise Bart Simpson once said, "Can't sleep, clowns will eat me." We laughed at the time; we all thought it was a funny gag because really, clowns won't eat you in your sleep...The clowns prefer you awake and screaming anyway.
here's the rest of this, compliments of:
Ok what f-ed-up person was the first to think, "Yes, clowns—you know, for the kids."
Clowns are terrifying--you know, for the adults. I have never been a fan of clowns...I know, what a surprise. Clowns are evil. They are the ones that walk the night in search of victims. People are afraid of things that go bump in the night, but they should be afraid of CLOWNS! They wear make-up and lurk. I hate things that lurk. I know that I must find a way to rid us of these foul creatures. I hope that there is a cure.
The wise Bart Simpson once said, "Can't sleep, clowns will eat me." We laughed at the time; we all thought it was a funny gag because really, clowns won't eat you in your sleep. That's not very clown-like behavior at all. I certainly don't find it amusing one bit to think clowns might creep into your bedroom with fork and knife at the ready, to gobble you up while you slumber peacefully. I am quite certain there is a rule in the Clown Book of Ethics that strictly forbids such nocturnal atrocities. The clowns prefer you awake and screaming anyway.
Ever since his last trip to Arkham Asylum the Joker, that one time clown prince of crime decided to go straight. His penchant for wild inventions and gadgetry quickly made him the richest man in all of Gotham. Corporate takeovers proved even more exciting than heists and were so much more profitable. Still, he did wish he could exact vengeance on that meddlesome Batman.
When an accountant notified him of some irregularities in the recent Wayne Corps acquisition, he couldn’t help but smile even wider. Atomic cars? Helicopters? At shareholder expense? Batman was done for.
I have notice same memories are no longer connect to corporal space. I no longer remember having been at a kiddy clown show. Being the luck child called up to help with a balloon trick. The only latent image in my brain is a 8mm movie shot by my dad. Just as the balloon was growing to amazing lengths the film ran out. The last few seconds of the film turns to a orange red streak and poof I’m and he are gone. I remember being told the clown was Emmett Kelly but it probably was some other 2d clown
Most of the time I love clowns.
The orange hair, large red noses, pants 10 sizes to large, their over size shoes.
They make me laugh until my eyes squirt water like the flowers on their lapels and my voice becomes a croak.
They exhaust me.
This last few weeks I find little to laugh about.
I turn on the TV and there they are.
A full menagerie of clowns, without costumes.
They all say that we, the people, are in trouble and they are the only clowns in town that can fix US.
That's with a capitol U S
The clowns came over today. They where just on their way to Kentucky. The big boss knows who to send on an off mission, I mean, no one would suspect a clown. They always get their target and those poor bastards just don't know what hit them. Was it the little plastic hummer? Maybe it was the pennywhistle? Those are deadly. One note played the right way and all the gray staff comes running out of your ears screaming. Not this time though. This time it was that little electric hand buzzer. Gets them every time. Those clowns are good.
Ladies and Gentlemen, it's all just an act. Don't be alarmed to see this clown on his back. He'll be up again, clowning about, And when he does, let's cheer and shout.
Announced as Potato, the fainting clown,
Known one minute to be up and the next minute down.
Life, he spent quiet and shy wherever he'd dwell.
Career, he was magic except those pesky fainting spells.
You'd think and assume it tough on his heart,
But the clown kept strong from the very start.
What did him in one day in fall,
Was bad trajectory of a human cannonball.
In the good old days, people who wanted to become clowns ran away to the circus. Or so Billy Bob thought the legend went. It was a far cry from reality, now that the city put a bounty on their heads.
The bands of clowns and their midget cars involved in drive-by pie in the face incidents were now a daily happening.
The final straw was the mayor's wife being targeted as she walked down Main Street.
Billy Bob was more than glad to put his army training to work. The money from the bounty would come in handy,
now with jobs were far and few between. All he needed was one of those incidents to happen.
He knew as soon as he heard the car; he was in luck, who else but clowns would be driving like that.
With a quick click, the safety on his rifle was off. Billy Bob would be dining well tonight.
Clowns, damn those clowns!
There's an old joke where a guy who's suicidally depressed goes into a doctor's office, tells the doctor he's always miserable while everybody else is so happy.
He's tried everything – pills, booze, sex, intense shock therapy... nothing's worked.
Doctor thinks a bit, says a famous clown is in town, always brings laughter and joy wherever he performs.
Man says “I am Pagliaci.”
Doctor says “What? No, I'm thinking of Bertoli, not you. I mean, let's face it – people are laughing because you're just so awful.”
Then he gives Pagliacci his theater pass, some Zoloft, and kicks him out the door.