Wednesday, September 19, 2007

I'll Get You My Pretty

Brighton, Boon and I went to Gambler’s for lunch Friday. It’s really a Chinese buffet, but we christened it such because it’s a toss up as to which of us will get back to the office just in time to lose the moo goo gai pan out our ass-end.

But, I digress.

Over eggrolls and sesame chicken, I look towards the buffet and see… a clown.

You don’t see that every day.

She had on a pink wig, her costume and face paint. How she expected to eat and not muss herself was beyond me. I dunno, but I think a sandwich at home before her gig would have been a better idea. Maybe she thought she was advertising?

But I said all that, to say this.

I don’t like clowns.

They scare me. When I was a little girl we had to visit Granny in the hospital. I was too young to go to her room and had to sit in the lobby. Hanging on the wall was a painting of a sad, bald, depressed looking clown. I always sat as far away from that painting as I could, facing the other direction.

I also dislike monkeys. They’re creepy and throw their poo at you when you visit the zoo. But mostly my aversion stems from the flying monkeys in The Wizard of Oz.

Remember back in the day?

The Wizard of Oz came on network TV once a year and everybody canceled their 2nd grade plans to stay home and watch it. You’d get to stay up past your bedtime and eat popcorn and drink soda with sugar in it.

In the living room!

However, when the monkeys came and tore the stuffing out of Scarecrow, I’d leave the room. Emotionally it was just too much to handle and I just knew those wretched primates would fly in my window in the dead of night and cart me off to the bowels of Hell.

Where was I?

Oh, yeah. I hate clowns and monkeys and…

Oompa Loompas. Gene Wilder would make an appearance on TV once a year also and bring those damn oompa loompas with him. The remake is worse. Now we just have one CG, psychedelic ooopa loompa mulitiplied.

To review: I hate clowns, monkeys, and oompa loompas. Oh, and trolls.

Didn’t you read Billy Goats Gruff?


Primal Sneeze said...

The Wizard of Oz was about a serial killer from Kansas. Dorothy, if I'm not mistaken. She left home, murdered a few old ladies, and came home seeming all innocent.

Oh, the Billy Goats Gruff reminds me that my mates' kid used call the toll plaza on the M50 motorway bridge the Troll Bridge. She'd scream every time they'd pass that way.

Sugar Britches said...

I really hate those awful troll dolls. I don't know if they sell them your way, but they are ugly little fekkers. This gal at work has them all over her cubicle. I can hardly walk by without shuddering!

Anonymous said...

there watching you....allways whatching....