Thursday, October 23, 2008

Bubble bubble baby

So I tried on my Hallowe'en costume last night, and took a couple of pictures to show y'all.

Whaddaya think? Too much makeup?



Naw, that ain' it. That there is just a big ol' MEXICAN CLOWN! At (shudder) a clown convention.

Clown. Convention. Save us all.....

A convention of clowns. Where they share their darkest secrets in rooms that smell of greasepaint and desperation. Where they tell tales of pranks pulled on the unsuspecting good folk of this world who remain ignorant to their dastardly bastardly schemes. Where they plan out their continued efforts to instill in each of us non-clowns a fearful respect for their lifestyle and craft by innovating riffs of old themes like the 'squirting flower' (this time filled with chili oil) and the 'squeaker-only conversation' (where the horn honks a subliminal message of mayhem against all plain folk).

There are workshops on "12 Objects of Anarchy You Can Hide in Giant Shoes" and "Ways to Make Children Even More Uncomfortable (Featuring new Twists on Balloon Animals)" as well as plenary sessions on "Finding Their Inner Child: The Path to Fear Induction in Baby Boomers."

Oh yes, they LOOK innocent, but the clowns are not unwise. They gather to convene by the thousands, slipping rubber chickens into the punch bowls, making garish "O faces" at passers by, accosting innocent bystanders in elevators with oversized card tricks and silent mockery. Clowns want our attention, and by these overt actions activate our silent frightened repugnance, and our fear.

Laugh, little boy, or the clown will squirt you with his comically large plastic daisy. Giggle, little girl, or that balloon giraffe you'll be forced into carrying around will look like a giant penis, and nobody will have the bravery to accuse the clown of doing it on purpose. Smile, Moms and Dads, or the clown will follow you around, honking and mocking the way you walk.

Do their bidding, people, or they'll hold the next convention in YOUR town.


As to MY costume (for the first annual Tiffowe'en party at the TH, y'all come on by!) - let's just say I'm going to wear a bolt of cloth. And a belt. And not much else. No sewing required. Easiest damn costume EVER, and the bonus is that after Hwe'en? It's going to turn into PAJAMAS. Some sewing required.

Y'all dressing up? As what? Tell us all about it, and then have a great rest o' the day.

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