Why would anybody ever want that gig, honestly? Even if the salary was high and the benefits included a free hooker, I would discard the opportunity like a paper route in the arctic. Have any of you ever heard of any noble or royal clown families, any genuine clown heroes or any industrial magnet clowns?! No, and the reason is about as obvious as beer on Fridays; clowns are the perfect example of why you at some point must insist on selecting your own outfits. If good ol’ mom gets her way all the way through puberty, your career options become awfully limited. Chances are that you’re going to spend an enormous amount of time jiving around in a candy colored tent, dodging pies in a desperate attempt for attention. All those years forced through the same lame schemes with your feet buried in sawdust, ejects large portions of a clowns mind to explorer new frontiers of insanity. Some of them lead to very specific areas of sexual exploration, which includes terms today referred to as pitchers and catchers that back in the day ultimately defined the happy and the sad clown. There is no happy outcome once you’re defined a clown. When the breakdown hit them, and it will, all of them are faced with one of two possible outcomes. Which either means that all those years of accumulated anger will drive them into the darkness with glowing eyes and a growing taste for infants, or to a greasy spot at the golden seagull, launching burgers through a drive-through window, denying their own existence. No wonder kids are so fascinated by clowns; not only do half of them serve the only food they have the intelligence to want consistently, they are also the only adults on the planet (not locked away in a rubber cell) who live by and cherish their childish behavior. If we were meant to throw cake at others at first given chance, weddings would not include a $2000 dress and men in tuxedoes. Clowns are the sad and more pathetic entertainment alternative to titty twisters, which grew out of fashion when a drunken legionnaire grabbed Cesar’s hairy mantitty and twisted it to the full extent of a circle, during an ancient ball in Alexandria.

I don’t despise clowns at all; I get that they are unfortunate individuals with limited options in almost every aspect of life. I am just announcing that there are other alternatives that lead to higher levels of entertainment, such as practicing your swing by driving Titleist balls through the windows of your boss’ Mercedes or suggesting that you mother-in-law get surgery before the law enforcement impounds her.

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