I HATE CLOWNS!

I HATE CLOWNS
Yes. You read that right.
Clowns scare the holy crap out of me. They make me nausious, cause me to tremble, and on an occasion, if I’m caught unwares, I pee my self.
And it doesn’t take Halloween for these things to happen.
A fun child icon for many, these painted posers pranksters embody all I seriously believe is depraved and nefarious.
Not only do I hate clowns, I despise them.
I abhor them.
I simply LOATHE them.
Can you say “coulrophobia”? It means a fear of clown and mimes, though I can honestly say, mimes only annoy the hell out of me.
What could have brought on such an adversion to the bogus big nosed folks?
Was the seed planted when I was but a mere 7 years old, feeling quite naughty staying up way past midnight to watch a delightfully scary horror movie while Aunt Pauline laid snoring, the yellow popcorn bowl rising up and down on her belly with each breath? I don’t remember any clown movies, but still…
Did it happen during a fever-induced dream, where I found myself at a circus where a pyscho dressed in clown regitalia took advantage of my innocent virtue by squirting his flower in my face, then mocked me in front of others, saying I was now marked by the monsters and he would come and get me?
Perhaps it was during my adolecense, when all the news reports examined things in great detail, about how depraved men (like John Wayne Gacy) hid their insinious natures behind a mask of pure white make up and frizzy, blood-like red hair and humongus lips, all the while living as a priest among his flock.
To this day, I’m not sure. All I know is that this phobia of galatic porportions has traveled through time with me.
As my children were growing up, if they recieved something that had a clown in it – it was thrown in the garbage. Do not pass ‘GO’, do not collect 200 bucks.
Needless to say, we didn’t do McDonalds. (Yes. Another way I ruined my son and daughter’s childhood. They still lament about it.)
What ever lanced my physic, has left me a with a dark desire to be a professional ‘clown hunter’.
Yeah. I hate clowns.
But why?
Could it be that clowns are psychotic? They pretend to be good, when they are really evil. I mean, anyone who goes around with a smile painted on that wide is definately hiding something. NOBODY has that much to be happy about!
Is it possible the clothes yank my chain? Brightly colored, mixed-matched, with oversize shoes, buttons, fluffy ruffles and garagious pantaloons that hide a multiude of malvoent wares – and he’s just itching to use them on you…
Or is it that damnable make up? All pure white, with exgaggerated eyebrows and heinous grin?Folks that have to hide behind a greasepaint mask are truly demented.
I dunno.
Yet, I can tell you, with all my love for werewolves, vampires, witches, ghosts, mummies, creatures and zombies, I have never been able to bring myself to watch a movie full of horrorific, blood thirsty clowns.
I. Just. Can’t. Do. It.
Therefore, I am trapped in my fear. It’s like a long, on going horror movie.
One never knows when a clown will appear.
Do you have something that scares the living be-jeezus out of you, that makes no sense? Please share it with me, so I don’t feel like such a wusse!
I HATE CLOWNS
Yes. You read that right.
Clowns scare the holy crap out of me. They make me nausious, cause me to tremble, and on an occasion, if I’m caught unwares, I pee my self.
And it doesn’t take Halloween for these things to happen.
A fun child icon for many, these painted posers pranksters embody all I seriously believe is depraved and nefarious.
Not only do I hate clowns, I despise them.
I abhor them.
I simply LOATHE them.
Can you say “coulrophobia”? It means a fear of clown and mimes, though I can honestly say, mimes only annoy the hell out of me.
What could have brought on such an adversion to the bogus big nosed folks?
Was the seed planted when I was but a mere 7 years old, feeling quite naughty staying up way past midnight to watch a delightfully scary horror movie while Aunt Pauline laid snoring, the yellow popcorn bowl rising up and down on her belly with each breath? I don’t remember any clown movies, but still…
Did it happen during a fever-induced dream, where I found myself at a circus where a pyscho dressed in clown regitalia took advantage of my innocent virtue by squirting his flower in my face, then mocked me in front of others, saying I was now marked by the monsters and he would come and get me?
Perhaps it was during my adolecense, when all the news reports examined things in great detail, about how depraved men (like John Wayne Gacy) hid their insinious natures behind a mask of pure white make up and frizzy, blood-like red hair and humongus lips, all the while living as a priest among his flock.
To this day, I’m not sure. All I know is that this phobia of galatic porportions has traveled through time with me.
As my children were growing up, if they recieved something that had a clown in it – it was thrown in the garbage. Do not pass ‘GO’, do not collect 200 bucks.
Needless to say, we didn’t do McDonalds. (Yes. Another way I ruined my son and daughter’s childhood. They still lament about it.)
What ever lanced my physic, has left me a with a dark desire to be a professional ‘clown hunter’.
Yeah. I hate clowns.
But why?
Could it be that clowns are psychotic? They pretend to be good, when they are really evil. I mean, anyone who goes around with a smile painted on that wide is definately hiding something. NOBODY has that much to be happy about!
Is it possible the clothes yank my chain? Brightly colored, mixed-matched, with oversize shoes, buttons, fluffy ruffles and garagious pantaloons that hide a multiude of malvoent wares – and he’s just itching to use them on you…
Or is it that damnable make up? All pure white, with exgaggerated eyebrows and heinous grin?Folks that have to hide behind a greasepaint mask are truly demented.
I dunno.
Yet, I can tell you, with all my love for werewolves, vampires, witches, ghosts, mummies, creatures and zombies, I have never been able to bring myself to watch a movie full of horrorific, blood thirsty clowns.
I. Just. Can’t. Do. It.
Therefore, I am trapped in my fear. It’s like a long, on going horror movie.
One never knows when a clown will appear.
Do you have something that scares the living be-jeezus out of you, that makes no sense? Please share it with me, so I don’t feel like such a wusse!

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