Clowns Piss Me Off

2011 July 12
by mockers

Welcome back to, ladies and gentlemen.  Apparently we are no longer an attack site, which is nice.  I was enjoying all of your credit card numbers and baby pictures, but we finally decided that we would appreciate your company much more and knocked all that malware stuff off…Except for that one lady in Corpus Christi.  We’re still spying on her personal information because she is hotter than doughnut grease and has the pictures on her c: drive to prove it.  I would say that she is built like a brick shithouse, but I have recently promised myself that I won’t use phrases that I don’t understand anymore.  I mean, I’ve gone “head over heels” for that girl…wait, strike that.  My head is always over my heels…what an odd thing to say.  Anyway, we’re glad you’re back…and to the chick in Corpus Christi, we’re glad you’re hot and mostly naked a lot.

So yeah, clowns…Never, ever, not even once in my life have I been happy to see a clown.  I mean, I am not scared of them or anything – and I have taken a balloon animal from them once or twice at parades or during a Friday night family get together at the sizzler,  but in general they have always just pissed me off. I don’t know why, but I am sure that if a guy tapped me on the shoulder and I slowly turned around in response only to be surprised by a dude with a wig, face makeup and a big rubber nose, I would punch him in the face in a manner similar to the guy in one of my favorite youtube videos of all time.

I know I am not the only person that hates/is afraid of clowns, but I have never really been able to figure out why…until today.  I mean, how can I hate someone whose primary mission is to entertain and make little kids laugh?  The obvious answer is to examine what they have to do to get these laughs.  If I want to make my nieces and nephews laugh, I make a funny face…or a fart noise…or I let them have cake or caffeinated beverages that their parents don’t want them to have…or maybe a cigarette or two.  It’s actually pretty easy to get a kid to like you.

Considering this, if someone is so socially inept that they have to paint their face and put on giant shoes just to get a laugh out of a kid…well, they’re obviously a fucking sociopath.  They are clearly donning the facepaint and giant nose to act as a mask through which they can channel another person – a person that is able to interact with little boys and girls without wanting to go all Catholic priest on them…except the masked beast almost always wants to get out.  I think Andre the Giant said it best when he uttered the famous phrase, “People in masks cannot be trusted.” Crazy clowney pederasses.

I am not a commissioned law enforcement officer.  However, the requirements of my job cause me to be around a lot of commissioned law enforcement officers every day.  I have had my problems with asshole cops over the years, but when you deal with them on a daily basis, they tend to become human.  Most of them are actually pretty cool.  It has been my experience that there are three types of cops in the world.  Those who became cops because they got their asses kicked their entire lives and wanted to finally have some authority – this is the worst type of cop.  Those who needed a job and police officer was available – these are generally decent and harmless people. And then there are those who genuinely want to contribute positively to society.  The ones who run toward problems rather than away from them.  These are the types of cops that I seek out and attempt to learn from.  I have spent years asking them about how they became who they are and listening to their stories.  There is a lot that one can learn from a good law enforcement officer.

Usually I ask them questions about major cases they’ve worked or times they’ve been in harm’s way.  I’ve asked them about working in the inner city.   I have asked how they coped with years of depressing and macabre stuff in the homicide division.  I have learned a ton, but I have never hit a home run like I did this morning as I shared a cup of coffee with two cops that started on the street and spent over thirty years each coming up through the ranks.  These are, relatively speaking, distinguished and important men.  I took a sip of coffee, looked up at them and completely out of the blue asked, “Have you ever arrested a clown?”  I have no idea where it came from.  I wasn’t thinking about clowns at the time and I hadn’t encountered a clown in years.  I just popped my head up from my coffee and hit them with the clown question.

Both of their ears perked up and they looked at each other and smiled.  It was clear that this was a new question for both of them and, while they work closely together on a daily basis, they had not yet gotten to the all-important stage in their relationship where they talked about how many clowns they’ve busted.

The stories poured forth like so many busted dams.  They had each busted a handful of clowns – all male and all of sex-related crimes. One of the clowns was even named “Buster the Clown.” They also had a handful of stories where their colleagues had busted clowns.  Other than the fact that they were all men, there didn’t seem to be any rhyme or reason to it as far as age or location was concerned either.  While these guys work for the same agency now, they did the majority of their work in cities that were over 500 miles apart from one another.

So now I know exactly why I get the clown-hate feeling every time one is near or I see them on television.  I am not Coulrophobic; I am simply doing my part to protect the children.  In fact, I have no idea why these guys are allowed to roam free about the country, preying on children with their creepy vans, facepaint and balloon animals.  I encourage you to write your congressman and urge them to write and pass “Buster’s Law” – a landmark piece of legislation that prohibits anyone except ladies over the age of 70 from going out in public dressed as a clown.  If you love clowns, that’s great.  Either find an old lady or do it in the privacy of your own home sicko.  In the meantime, I am going to fight the good fight and get Buster’s Law passed.  You know, for the children.  Thank you for your time and kind consideration.


3 Responses leave one →
  1. 2011 July 12
    WBinOH permalink

    God damn! That’s a mockable!

  2. 2011 July 12
    Vicki permalink

    I had to look up coulrophobic for the definition and to make sure you spelled it right. As it’s a pretty new word and I’m fairly ancient, you see my problem. Anything I’ve heard in the past 20 years was not retained. You ask me something about 1977, I got that bitch covered.

  3. 2020 September 6
    Wife #3 permalink

    You hate clowns and I hate balloons. So, let’s avoid clowns with balloons, okay?

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