This is what happens when you leave a clown in the bathtub too long. They get all puffy and bloated. I don’t know what the spots are, though. A costume can’t get an ugly skin condition…can it? I guess you could catch anything if you spent all day rubbing up against a clown.
Hold onto that thought. Treasure it. Let it breed in your cerebral cortex and have little thought-babies.
Erg. It must have been “Dress like an amanita mushroom” day at the circus. Or maybe my vision’s going again. There is definitely something wrong with this image. I mean, besides the fact that he’s got all the charisma of a rubber balloon someone blew up last week and then left in the sun–you know, all stretch-marks and the vague smell of latex.
Kind of like last Saturday.
I’m really trying to repress last Saturday.
Let us go on a magical journey together.
At some point, he ruptured. Surgeons were barely able to stitch him back together, and after sixteen gruelling hours in the ER, they finally said “why were we doing this again?” and just got out the staple gun. KerCHUNG! Clown fixed, good as new, or at least good as clown. Let’s have lunch.
Goodwill on South 1st and Slaughter, Austin