Gassclown

This is the clown that gives me gas and haunts my dreams.

This one gives me gas and haunts my dreams, too.  However, this clown used to pay me to do horrible things to people.

It's no wonder I turned out to be a mentally-scarred adult clown with many, many issues.  If you are brave enough to honk my nose and stick around, you'll probably be disappointed. I am not used to keeping the party going longer than an hour or two.  I'll probably say something awful to ruin the birthday party, so I can go home early and calm down. After a while, it starts to sink in what a sad, sad clown I really am. I think about how nice it was to be at the party, with the balloons, bad clothes, floppy boots, and my squirting lapel flower. I think about how nice it was to have someone get involved in my act, even if I wasn't ready for it. I really appreciated you honking my nose. Sorry for the strange noise it made. Please forgive me.

A Whale Regulated Militia

Elf Evaluation

Sometimes I wonder about my life and why things happen the way they happen. I'm either too smart or too dumb...I don't know which.  Well, if I don't seem to know which, then it's probably the latter.  I certainly feel like I've been rather dumb lately, dumb and insensitive.  I blame Donald Trump.

Have you ever entered a situation or an experience so loaded with prior hangups and bad memories that you ruined things? Yeah, I've totally screwed shit up because of that.  I can say that I'm cool with things and try to convince myself and others that I'm okay with it, but if I haven't really dealt with my issues, they always have a way of showing up at the wrong time and wanting to crash the party.  I blame Hillary Clinton.

I may not want something 100%, but that doesn't mean that I don't want it like 85%.  What's with the whole binary system of desire, anyway?  I am criticizing myself here.  It seems I have to want something with every fiber of my being in order to make a life decision.  Shit, I don't have this standard with food.  There have been plenty of times where I choose some kind of burger with a bit of uncertainty, but after am all "Damn, that was a good freaking burger!"  It's really because I can be a chicken shit sometimes.  I blame the media.

Sure, there's a rush when you flee your supposed "burning building", a feeling like you've somehow escaped a potential problem.  The problem is that when there becomes a pattern of these events, well, you have to start asking yourself if you just view every situation as a burning building.  I blame my optometrist.

What do I do? I don't know, really.  If I hurt someone, then I do my best to make that right. But what do I do about myself?  I am repeatedly hurting myself and it has to stop.  I have to identify my problems and their root causes.  After that, well, the hard work begins of actually trying to fix myself.  Can't I just shut up and play my guitar?  I blame society.

Boy, this self evaluation stuff is hard. I blame myself.  At least that's a start.

Imma

Sans the spur.