Vomit, Clowns, and Other Childhood Joys

Yesterday was a bad day. A colleague was followed around by the press wanting information on a criminal probe. Today, the press was following me, but they accidentally thought I was someone else. I’ve been mistook for a celebrity. I promptly decided to throw trash at the press. I think that works out for everyone: they get their story, the celebrity gets some free press, and I get to get rid of my trash without having to take it to the trash cans.

While walking down the street, I saw a sad sight. A person obviously down on his luck was sitting on vomit. The person waling in front of me looked at him at disgust. The down on his luck guy seemed offended and screamed at the man “hey, this vomit isn’t mine.” Which, shows me that this is a man who would rather you think he’d sit in someone else’s vomit than admit it is his own vomit. Interesting priorities in his world.

I have only seen one episode of “South Park”. I ran into someone else who had seen only one episode. As I know about the humor where Kenny dies in many of the episodes, I jokingly remarked how Kenny died in the episode I saw. The woman who had also only seen just one episode obviously doesn’t know about Kenny, as she excitedly replied “I saw the same episode you did.”

I was at a store selling vintage goods when someone pointed out a really freaky looking clown mask Halloween costume from the past. A friend held it up and asked “what psychotic parents would ever dress their kid in this?” The thing had an air of youthful serial killer to it. Even children who aren’t afraid of clowns would have been scared of that costume. It was at that precise moment that I finally remember something I’ve been trying to remember for years: that was the costume my parents bought me for Halloween. Well, at least that explains a lot of questions I had in life. Such as, why none of my classmates would ever sit near me in lunch. Maybe I shouldn’t have kept wearing the mask everyday to school.