DawnPapuga.com — Reality 101

Bozo,

Seeing as you are the spokes-creature for all things evil, I think it’s high time we had a heart to heart.  I know what you are, and you know that I know.  We’ve been in this position for quite a while, and for the most part we’ve both kept our end of the bargain–you remain in clown-acceptable places, and I stay away from said places.  Seeing as I don’t particularly like McDonalds, it hasn’t been much of an issue.  Thank you for speaking to your brethren and having them remove any clown related images from the exterior of those buildings.  I can now drive up and get a Big Mac every 6 months or so without fear of wrecking my car or running over a customer trying to escape your clutches.

But we’re going to have to talk about these commercials I keep seeing.  Granted, I don’t watch a lot of television, but when I do have a few moments to do so, I would appreciate not needing to hold my breath for 30 seconds while covering my ears to drown out your creepy, creepy circus music (the clarion call for all things evil), and squeezing my eyes closed hard enough to see spots.  I’ve kept up my end of the deal here, and you’ll never see me in a circus tent, or walking over grates, and I run the other way if I even hear balloons being mangled into “animals.”  You have your realm, I have mine.  Back off.

Millions of other people love your little games and your terrifying makeup, and they laugh and clap at your hypnotizing antics before you suck their souls from them, you don’t need me too.  I tried to meet you half way and listen to ICP, and then they came out with the Boogie Man song.  To my great dismay, even though it scares the living bejezzus out of me, I actually enjoy their music.  Sadly I shall never see them live, and I will never see the fantastic CD art they must have.  I blame you for that.  But I’m okay with it.  Really.  My headphones are as close to those clowns as I’ll ever come. 

And even though Halloween is my favorite holiday of the year, I’ve conceded Haunted Houses to you.  After being swarmed by your kind in a haunted house a few years ago, I see no need for me to venture to those places again.  Growing up there were never any clowns in haunted houses.  Ghosts, vampires, wolf men, chainsaw guys, zombies… sure.  They belong there.  But when you started jumping from my waking night terrors into reality right there in those haunted houses, you won the day.  I was carried out in the fetal position.  Well done there.  Well done, indeed.  I don’t even like being scared like that anyway.  So keep ‘em.

But I’m going to have to insist on taking back TV.  Don’t sneak into commercials, and don’t creep your way into my living room by way of 30 second explosions of sound and color and ads for the Incredible Hulk. (Which, by the way, would have totally had me clawing at my parents to go see as a child, in spite of your ilk and our notorious center ring conflict of ‘83.)  You don’t see me sneaking in to your dreams at night, lurking and looming, do you?  Well, not anymore, at least.  I kept my promise, now I expect you to keep yours.  Don’t make me come over there…

That is all.

~D