…man, for
the life of this reviewer…can’t understand what it is about clowns of late,
that get the average folks out there, so damned riled up, unnerved and chilled
to the bone. Really…just because a wayward, pasty-faced clown with
crusty-stained dental work, bent into an evilly gleeful grimace, and carrying a
loaded lawn-sized trash bag, loaded with gawd-knows-what, stands & stares intently
and motionless on the corner…street light flicker, barely illuminating his
ghastly visage…doesn’t necessarily mean that he’s about to get…er, naughty…
…just
because our hapless and merry fellow, decked out and dressed in oversized
mud-crusted shoes, a saggy, jester-like & color-contrasting get-up, and a
teeny-tiny black Oliver Hardy bowler hat, steps in, sits down across…speechlessly
staring, and smiling with glistening, blackened lips…then without warning,
reaches over, grabs your hand, and places a costume vending machine ring on
your ring finger, as if to propose…doesn’t exactly make him an unnerving,
smiley pervert…