disclaimer or something

A mummy-hand holding, (former) biker gang affiliating, hippie influenced semi crunchy granola mom's ramblings and reminisings on an off-kilter life

Monday, June 11, 2012

can't sleep clowns will eat me

can't sleep clowns will eat me

Due to a crappy birthday around Christmas, my mom had a birthday party for me, with, gasp, other children, in June instead. I recall one year my mom got one of her students to dress as a clown, I mean, every kid needs a clown party, right? So.... it was the birthday from Hell.

First, I got a cake from the local bakery and we were driving home with it and someone pulls out in front of us. My mom slams on her breaks and since 64 Novas lack rear seat belts (and have slippery seats to boot- playing corners up the mountain road meant broken bones, I swear) I went weeeeeee forward. Head first into the back of the front seat. Thank God we were driving slow or I'd had propelled through the windshield and not be living to tell it. I slammed into the hard seat with my nose and it was bent sideways and gushing blood. We may or may not have had an ambulance come, probably not. I went to my birthday party with a sideways nose so I was a wee bit cranky. Then we play some dumb game. I HATE dumb party games. HATE them. I still HATE them. And ice breakers at conventions. Birthday party games for adults who seem to actually enjoy this crap. HATE. GAMES. Anyways, somehow the game worked out where there was no room for me to play. Damnit, its my birthday, even if I HATE games, you don't tell the birthday girl, sorry, you're the odd one out, not enough spots or chairs or game pieces or whatever. So I got all sulky and went to mope under my slide. When I get all murky I want to wallow in my misery. Alone. Undisturbed. Just then this creepy clown I'd never seen before walks up and BUGS ME in my quiet mope-y spot. He WON'T LEAVE ME ALONE even though I sternly tell him to do so. So I get up and run into the house to hide and HE FOLLOWS ME. HE FOLLOWS ME. 

The ACTUAL clown stalker of 1980-something
Tell me this is NOT kinda creepy.

I'm not one who totally freaks at clowns, I don't have Coulrophobia (clown-phobia) but I do avoid them at all costs because they're creepy. And immature, like STUPID PARTY GA
MES. And CLOWNS CANNOT BE TRUSTED. EVER. Because they will HUNT YOU DOWN. Trust me. 

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