Clowntown Productions

One of my sisters had a close encounter of the clowny kind the other night. She was at work doing an overnight shift and this creepy dude kept coming over to talk to her. She knew right away that he was scary, but didn't know why. Eventually he gave her his card, and guess what he does for a living? Mmmm-hmmmm....clown!! He had a horrible stretchy face, and she could picture him in the makeup working a kid's birthday party and smelling of old whiskey and fresh cigars. Needless to say, she is traumatized, and has been spending most of her time wrapped in a foil blanket, shivering and gently weeping.

Meanwhile, some of us just act like clowns, but can't be arsed to wear makeup. Yesterday at work I was in a meeting passing notes and giggling and I got yelled at by a guy in a Cosby sweater. I am 32 years old. How is it possible that I'm still sitting in the back row of the classroom getting in trouble for not paying attention? The greatest part is that I could feel my face arrange itself into Sullen Teenager mode instantly. Any time I think about going back to school for anything, I remember why it's not such a good idea.