People! This marks the beginning of reader-interactive Q&A, which will soon replace the current “Q&A” page. Please send me all the questions you wish through Formspring, and they will all be answered on that site, but featured questions will be answered as blogs here in the blog section! Excitement.
Note: It’s been kind of buggy, so if you notice that your question has not been answered for a couple days, contact me to let me know! I will answer all of them, or answer one that might be asked repeatedly (instead of answering each one repetitivitousnessly).
So, here is the first question, “Why are you afraid of clowns?”
For those wondering, I have commented several times on my fear of clowns in random blogs.
To clarify, I’m not scared of all clowns, just certain types. For example, when you wake up at 2 in the morning because you could have sworn you heard a scratching sound on your 2nd floor window, and you figure it’s just a branch from the tall tree in your backyard, and you look out the window and see big clown footprints in the soft dirt below, and so you step back and convince yourself you were just seeing things in the moonlight, maybe just half-dreaming, and you want to go to get a drink of water so you turn on the bedroom light and take a minute to let your eyes adjust, and right when you go into the hallway the clown is right there in the dim walkway, and you see that all the doors are closed and painted blue with a squiggly green question mark on all of them, and he gestures towards them like, “pick one,” but you don’t want to pick one because you know that there is probably not popcorn behind any of them, which is obviously the first assumption one has in this situation, but you’d certainly at least smell it if popcorn were there, and you don’ t smell it, so you know that it’s probably just a trick and that there is most likely a gang of sharp-toothed clowns behind each one, laughing, waiting for you to pick a door so they can ambush you, so you run back into the bedroom and try to escape out of the window as you hear the honking footsteps chasing after you from down the hallway, getting closer, and you finally get the second story window open and jump down only to land on a trampoline that sends you flying back up into the window into their waiting mouths, I don’t like those types of clowns. Or the ones with needles where their eyeballs should be.
Thanks for asking!
