This couldn’t have come at
a better time
because I’ve had Mr. Le Clown
on my mind.
I thought I’d do a post
sayin’ ‘Where ya been?’ and
that I hope all is well up in the
Northern end.
I talk to some nice people in the blogosphere
including you Ms. ink.Anette my dear.
Somehow we keep it going…
My Carnies,
I’d like to invite you all to Le Clown’s new blog: Black Box Warnings. It’s not funny, at least, I didn’t laugh when I wrote the first post, Where the Wild Things Aren’t. If you do, you’re an ass. But I’ll still love you. Maybe. Perhaps. Anyway. It’s about my son, The Whispering Petunia, and his battle with ADD while on methylphenidate (Concerta). I’m hoping it will become a resource for other parents living with children who suffer from ADD. And a place to exchange, for everyone, about treatments, drugs, and feelings… these fucking feelings. As for A Clown on Fire, bring your ass back here Monday. And please take a shower before showing up.
The wonderful banner for Black Box Warnings was masterfully designed by blogger and friend, Sophy.
Le Clown
The Whispering Petunia and Lord Evil Poppy
…but he’s handsome, and speaks perfect French.
Le Clown has been working on his new blog, Black Box Warnings, and has neglected the magnificent Le Clown on Fire. My Carnies, be lenient, and give Le Clown a few more days. Can we agree on Monday, May 28? Excellent! To thank you, Le Clown allows you to name your future children after him. Same goes to you pet people, not for your kids, but for your little barking annoyance dogs or your walking allergens cats.
Until then, please feel free to talk about Le Clown during your next family gathering, or call out his name during sex.
Everything Le Clown says is true.
Well, well, well, my sweet readers. The time has come to promote one of my absolute blogging favorites. He has been quiet recently, but I believe what we are all experiencing – now, in blog-land – is simply the calm before the storm.
How to describe this man? Truthfully, he was one of my first blogging buddies, in the best sense of such a nerdy statement.
Hello Carnies (and Meizac, and other readers, and those who come to peek even though they do not belong here but have nothing better to do…),
Le Clown’s amusement park is under renovations. That’s right! Le Clown, The Ringmistress, The Whispering Petunia and Lord Evil Poppy are working hard to give this old blog a facelift! The circus will be offering new rides and new acts. Le Clown won’t say more… Just mark this date into your calendar: Thursday, May 24. Get a babysitter if you need. If you were thinking about having sex with your partner, with a complete stranger or with yourself, push it back by one day – it will only be better. Just be here…
Meizac, hope you had fun as my personal assistant. Where’s my mini post? And did you find a new title for Le Clown’s personal assistant? Wanker… Anette and Sailor Carrie, you will be the first duo as Le Clown’s personal assistants… The new management will get in touch with you this week. We’re taking this blog to a whole new level.
And because Le Clown does everything better than everyone else, he will be launching on the same day his new blog: Black Box Warnings. Fuck yeah.
Le Clown recently reentered la blogosphère, and still doesn’t know how he feels about it. I’m glad to be writing again, and reading my Carnies. Posts don’t come easy, and I find myself struggling to come up with funsies. The fight for my son’s custody has hit me like a ton of bricks. Although it’s status quo for the time being, the affidavit I’ve received left a very bitter taste in my mouth. This was not the first below the waste blow Le Clown suffered in his magnificent life, but it’s one of the nastiest and most perverted, hands down. Le Clown is shaken, and stirred.
“Our beautiful TWP on his last day Concerta-free.”
- The Ringmistress
Today, The Whispering Petunia will be back with us. I’m excited and nervous. He’s been on Concerta for a week now. I hope he’s ok. I’m sure he’s ok. He will be ok. And I miss him. We’ve decided to keep a moodchart, to monitor my favourite superhero while on methylphenidate. I want to observe him without hovering… Call it mindful monitoring. There will be no walking dead on my watch.
Le Clown loves his wife - this is why she will sleep until AT LEAST 8:30 am today.
Anyway. Happy Mother’s Day to you all. My gift to you: Becky Fucking Donohue. That’s right, Sweet Mother herself. Appropriate, no? Step up you tea game, y’all!
A special Happy Mother’s Day to my personal-assistant Meizac. Now wake-up!
And another one. I’m so fucking generous, I make myself cry.
…is a pornographic film which has nothing to do with this post.
While on his WordPress hiatus, Le Clown updated his passport and revisited some of his favourite places: NeurosisVille, Melancholiaburg and Turmoil City. Being the type of explorer who fully invests himself in his treks, Le Voyager Clown omitted to drop by and say hello to his 15 new followers. Simon, TransBeautiful, WillowSpirit, Melanie, Cat Forsley, PurpleMary54, Psovart (looking forward to having my portrait displayed by you…), Didiita, Timmer, Unfetteredbs, Stewpify, DatingBitch, JodiAmbrose, Cynosurd and WallaceBThom, thanks for joining Le Circus, my new Carnies. Now go and fetch me a coffee. Merci.
The blogosphere continued to turn, or so I’ve read. Many of you missed Le Clown, and that is fine by me. I’ve missed myself, too. Gemini Girl – who mentioned me in this post [although it was her duty as my personal-assistant to write a mini-post about Le Clown] – channeled my magnificence and entertained my Carnies during my journeys through DramaQueenLand. I’ve been told she did a stupendous job… for an American. GG, sweetie, kudos to you. Time to move on. Shoo.
The nominees for the Bigger and Better Dick in a Box are:
Le Clown as Air Supply – A special dedication to Sword-Chinned Bitch.
Et la gagnante est… Meizac! Congratulations, fellow Canadian! [I will be shipping you back your kids, by the way. It was a kind and noble sacrifice, but Le Clown doesn't take bribes.] You’ve won a permanent place on Le Clown’s blog. I will make space for you on the Dick in a Box page, and I will expect you to start replying to comments as of now. I’ve also reserved you a special treat [solidarity between Canadians, friend]: As this week’s Le Clown’s personal-assistant, it will be your job to find a better job title than “personal-assistant”. I would have suggested “Gemini Girl” – in light of Stacie’s awesomeness – but Gemini Girl thought it would be too conspicuous and would start the rumour mill… The ego on that one.
Anette and Sailor Carrie, I like your idea… Let’s talk…
A Meizac Family Portrait, I’m guessing by one of her kids. Wicked antennas, Ant Girl!
Le Clown is many things: an entertainer, a magnificent father, a gorgeous husband, an atheist-agnostic-nihilist, a very tall powerhouse who fears nothing… but movies about Le Satan. Before bed last night, we watched The Devil Inside. Le Clown played it cool in front of The Ringmistress: a possessed character on t.v. and Le Clown only cried from the inside. Otherwise, my wife witnessed the usual calm [and virile] composure which defines Le Clown on any given day.
The very-stoic-on-the-outside Le Clown kisses his wife goodnight: “I’m off to bed, Ringmistress“. “I’ll meet you shortly, Le Clown“. And off to bed goes a completely-panicked-and-scared-shitless-on-the-inside Le Clown. The room is dark – it’s usually what happens when you turn the lights off – and Lord Evil Poppy is snoring in backwards Latin (Le Clown and The Ringmistress are adepts of attachment parenting – LEP will surely sleep in our room until she’s 37). Le Clown is lying still, not moving a single red curly clown hair, and keeping his eyes wide open – there won’t be a possessed Le Clown on my watch, not tonight, Le Satan. Three minutes into it, and after seeing my whole life flash right in front of me – it was in glorious TechnicoloUr, it was joyful, and Le Clown was carried in the arms of cheerleaders [props to The National on the last one] – I ran upstairs [true story] and asked The Ringmistress, uncalm and uncollected, to join me in bed as Le Clown was freaking out. “Oh sweetie” says The Ringmistress, “I’m coming“.
I’m back in our room, under the blankets, looking at Lord Evil Poppy levitating – the shadows are laughing at me, and the ambient air whispers in my ears: “You’re going to die, Le Frenglish Clown“. My wife enters [she's gorgeous... you scored, Le Clown]. “Hush little baby go to sleep“, she sings to me. She then talks about stuff: “I was just writing a message to *bzzzz* *blah blah blah*“. The transmission stopped somewhere between her mouth and my ears – my best guess is that her words were afraid to enter my head, knowing it was haunted by visions of Le Satan. The Ringmistress feels my distress… And this is what she does, my Carnies. She raises the tone of her voice, and in her best Regan MacNeil impersonation, says: “It’s your morning with Lord Evil Poppy tomorrow. Muahahahahaha!!!“
Le Clown peed his clown PJs.
DISCLAIMER: Le Clown is an atheist but respects others’ faiths and practices… unless you believe in the church of Ronald McDonald.
Le Clown is back, my Carnies. End of post. Ha! I am my own best audience…
You’ve been magnificent, my Carnies. Your many supporting ways have made a difference, but I must urge you to start eating again. Le Clown apologizes for having such a detrimental effect on your appetite… Please wipe your tears and eat, copiously. Le Clown thinks healthy is the new beautiful… Then again, there’s Joan Holloway. But I’m digressing, again.
So I’m back. We’ve established this already. I’m rusted… I must admit. Taking a few weeks off from blogging hinders creativity – think Brian Wilson lying in bed… sitting on your face. I’ll recover. This is how I plan to do so:
Let’s call this a post, shall we? I’ll be back tomorrow to announce my new personal-assistant, extend my gratitude to Gemini Girl for being simply fucking magnificent (see how I did not use adorable, Stacie?), and who knows what. For the time being, I’m all yours. Comment away and I will personally answer you one by one.
The Whispering Petunia will find his way. Le Clown is hopeful.
