I was pretty damn excited when Le Clown told me he was planning a trip to Philadelphia. I was even more excited when he asked me to be his gracious host during said trip. “Nicole Marie,” he said, “I am paying your little city a visit and I have decided you will be the one to show his Magnificence™ around.” Okay, so that was more telling than asking. Whatever!
I welcome you all to the city of Brotherly Fucking Love.
I immediately scribbled down a list of activities we could do together:
1.) Eat greasy stuff
2.) Eat more greasy stuff!
3.) Make fun of hipsters
4.) Go to a hipster bar, order cans of PBR, and make fun of more hipsters!
5.) Offer to buy a sandwich for a hobo asking for money, only to be turned away.
6.) Visit some historical crap that no resident of Philadelphia ever actually visits because who cares that the Declaration of Independence was signed here? We have awesome bars!
7.) Go see a band, dance like fools, then buy matching “YOLO” t-shirts and drink Steele Reserve from paper bags!
8.) Admire the awesome side of street art then throw our trash on the sidewalk
9.) Get way too drunk and pee in an alleyway
10.) End the night by taking pictures of ourselves eating more greasy stuff, then tag each other on Facebook!
I couldn’t wait for Le Clown to arrive. I was working the morning shift (4:45 AM – 2 PM) and was a little tired, but it was nothing a few sugar-free Red Bulls couldn’t fix. Since I work in the Philadelphia Airport – and as a bartender no less – it was the perfect scenario to begin our adventure. I fully expected him to step off of the airplane and into my bar, throwing his middle fingers in the air and telling everyone to fuck off, thinking it the natural Philly way.
So needless to say I was shocked when a disoriented Clown stumbled my way, makeup smeared, one white glove missing, no balloon animals in tow, no handkerchiefs protruding from any orifices.
My coworkers looked from me to Le Clown to me again, then started whispering. “Let’s get the hell out of here,” I said, hooking my arm through his weak one. So much for that.
“What’s with you?!” I asked when we were finally in my truck. I had to help him into the passenger side after I opened the door and he face planted into the seat, leaving a red streak across the entire cushion. “Joe’s gonna be pissed,” I mumbled to myself.
“Dilawdelad,” he said.
“What?” I was quickly growing frustrated, trying to steer with my left hand and using the other to push Le Clown’s face away from the dashboard.
“Dilaudid,” he said again. “Still taking it.”
“Damnit, Le Clown! I had so many activities lined up for us today. Now what are we gonna do?!” I balled up my list and threw it at him. He didn’t notice it stick to the sweat on his forehead.
“I’m good, man. Less dew this.”
I sighed and for a moment considered turning the truck around and driving his crazy clown ass right back to the airport. Then I pulled out my phone and consulted Google.
“Google, is it okay to drink while taking Dilaudin?”
Yahoo was the first in line under search results, so I decided it was reliable. I scrolled down and saw this:
“Drinking alcohol can increase the effects of many drugs…”
I figured that was a good thing. More alcohol meant the Dilaudin would work even harder, and this would make Le Clown a very happy clown indeed!
1.) Eat greasy stuff
“How about a little breakfast?” I asked. He was asleep so I figured he’d be cool with it. I drove us to a shiny diner covered in obnoxious neon and helped him inside. “Two please,” I told the hostess. She grabbed two menus and showed us to our seats, hardly glancing at my clown friend.
“She din’t even notees me,” Le Clown said. Around here a clown in a diner is no biggie, I explained. We have dancing hobos and a naked bike ride. “Wutevs.”
I ordered for us, and when the food came Le Clown looked down in disgust.
“Wut zee fuck eez zis?” The grease pile before him had brought out his inner snooty Frenchman.
“Just eat it,” I said. I figured in his drugged state he’d stop asking questions.
Mmm, odds & ends.
He looked up at me, not satisfied with my vague answer. I sighed.
“It’s scrapple. And this is porkroll. They’re pretty common breakfast foods around here.”
Round, fatty goodness.
“Le Clown thought scrapple was a board game with le tiles.”
“That’s Scrabble, Le Clown. Scrapple is called scrapple because, well….nevermind. Don’t think, just eat.”
He was shy at first, but once he’d taken his first bite I had to smack him in the skull with a newspaper to get him to slow down. “Don’t lick your plate,” I whispered. “That’s weird, even around here.”
2.) Eat more greasy stuff!
Le Clown had found his new favorite food, and made us stop at another diner to get some more scrapple. “Zees stuff eez uhmayzingballs! Need sum fer clown pants tew bering home 2 Canadianaland.” Right. We were on track with our list, and I was happy!
3.) Make fun of hipsters
I’d totally rock this outfit. No, really.
This was the happiest I’d seen Le Clown all day, since the Dilaudin had taken away any fucks he’d previously given (if there were any at all). He laughed so hard at one boy in skinny jeans and a v-neck t-shirt I thought I’d have to call an ambulance when I caught him rolling around on the sidewalk blue in the face, but he pulled an inhaler out of his fanny-pack and after a few puffs he was good.
What of it? I look better than your girlfriend. YOLO!
4.) Go to a hipster bar, order cans of PBR, and make fun of more hipsters!
Home sweet bar.
I decided to take Le Clown to Tattooed Mom’s, a bar on one of the most popular streets in Philly, South Street. The entire length of South Street is riddled with bars and hipster stores and awesome restaurants. But Tattooed Mom’s is by far the most visually intoxicating.
Le Clown looked up at the sign above his head and I swear I saw stars in his eyes, maybe a tear or two. I’m not quite sure I heard right, but I think he said something about “the circus” and “sweet memories”. I smiled. I knew he’d like this place. We stepped inside, again completely ignored by the hipsters behind their argyle sweaters and thick-rimmed nonprescription glasses. I felt a twinge of jealousy, knowing I never did look good in glasses like that. That band from that town spilled out from the speakers and some girl on a couch in a corner yelled something about knowing the singer. I ordered us two Kenzingers (eh, fuck PBR) and realized it was Thursday.
“Fuck yeah!” I shouted. “FRIED PEROGIES!” Once my excitement had subsided I turned around to explain the epicness of Fried Perogies Thursday to Le Clown, but he had gone. I scanned the room in a panic, hoping he hadn’t face-planted or else wandered out into the city alone, then climbed the stairs to the second floor where I found him frozen, drinking in the sights before him. “Here,” I said, handing him the Kenzinger.
“Is zat a gewd idea?” He sipped anyway. He twitched a little.
“I luv zis playce,” he whispered. “Jus lyke hoeme.” Just then he pounded the rest of his beer and curled up in the fetal position in that re-purposed roller coaster cart. The guy with the guitar didn’t seem to notice.
5.) Offer to buy a sandwich for a hobo asking for money, only to be turned away.
Surprisingly not one asked for money. Instead they asked me if I could score some of whatever Le Clown was on. I had to pull Le Clown away when he tried to offer one a handful of Mike & Ike’s he’d found in his pocket.
6.) Visit some historical crap that no resident of Philadelphia ever actually visits because who cares that the Declaration of Independence was signed here? We have awesome bars!
“Yew no Rawcky, yees?” Le Clown asked.
“No, I don’t know Rocky, Le Clown. But I can take you to the art museum, so you can see the steps he ran up in the movie.” His eyes lit up.
“I wunted 2 bee a boxzer onse. Den I gotted puntched. Not no moe.” Okay, Le Clown.
We stood at the bottom of the art museum steps. I figured that was enough, but suddenly Le Clown started jumping up and down, his arms flailing here and there. At first I thought he was having a seizure. Then I realized he was shadow boxing. I tried to calm him down but before I knew it he had taken off, running up the stairs Rocky Style.
“Le Clown! Slow down, my friend!”
I don’t think he realized how many steps there were.
He only made it about six steps before he collapsed. I reached into his fanny-pack and retrieved the inhaler. “You’re no Sylvester,” I said. I held him as he wept. I didn’t even complain about the rainbow clown snot he left on my forearm. I cleaned him up and decided it was time to visit The Liberty Bell.
Lazy Americans. Why don’t they fix le crack in le bell?
All was well until Le Clown pulled a hammer out of nowhere and went apeshit, trying to put another crack in the bell. He kept screaming something in French and growling at tourists. It took me a while to calm him down and we got the hell out of there before the police arrived.
7.) Go see a band, dance like fools, then buy matching “YOLO” t-shirts and drink Steele Reserve from paper bags!
I decided we needed to take in some music so I brought Le Clown to the historic Trocadero Theatre or “The Troc” as we so lovingly refer to it, just two blocks from Chinatown. One of my favorite hipster-y bands, Tegan and Sara, was playing, so I ordered us some more beers and we bopped around to fun music until they kicked us out because Le Clown tried to crowd surf. “Not a big deal,” they said, “but totally not okay when you dive head first from the balcony into a crowd.”
From there we bought our matching “YOLO” t-shirts and skipped through the city holding hands. I told him it was okay to drink in public as long as we kept our 40′s in paper bags.
8.) Admire the awesome side of street art then throw our trash on the sidewalk
A lot of people see graffiti as a bad thing. And it can be, when it’s a bunch of dumb ass kids defacing property just for kicks.
Perfect example of shitty nonsensical graffiti.
Needless to say Le Clown was not impressed. He spit on the ground and waved me away. ”Le Americans,” he scoffed. “Peethetic.” I was still determined to show him some street art could be meaningful, beautiful.
“Like this,” I said. He gave me a simple nod and turned away. I put a hand on his shoulder. “Zee dilawdid. Maykes mee iyez wooder.”
I took the last sip of my Steele Reserve. “Where eez le resepticulls?”
**”The whole city is our receptacle!” I said, tossing the bottle next to a pizza box and mangled baby stroller. Le Clown shrugged and threw his bottle too, hitting a hobo in the head. He cursed and rolled over.
9.) Get way too drunk and pee in an alleyway
By that time I was feeling pretty good myself, and my speech was starting to sound like Le Clown on Dilaudin. We stumbled through the streets together now, talking and laughing our asses off even though we had no idea what the other was saying. It didn’t matter. Just then I had to pee so I popped a squat behind an old dumpster with Le Clown as my lookout. I almost fell over when he laughed and said he could hear me peeing.
“Girlz areN’t suhpozed to pee!” Whatever, Le Clown. We don’t poop unicorns either, you know.
10.) End the night by taking pictures of ourselves eating more greasy stuff, then tag each other on Facebook!
My time with my disoriented friend was almost up, but I had one last thing to show him. The best of the best, the thing we’re known for even better than being the place our Declaration of Independence was signed, the perfect ending to any drunken tour of the city: the cheesesteak.
Mmm, Geno’s.
“Ah, le steak and le cheze,” Le Clown said. “I innjoy bofe.”
I gasped. “Le Clown, please don’t order like that. There’s a particular set of rules to follow here. Even I’m terrified of ordering. If you get it wrong, you’re either going to starve or someone’s going to spit on your cheese whiz.” I pointed to the sign above.
He wrinkled his brow. “Le wit or le wit-out? Wut eez diz nunsence?”
We got in line – it was long, as usual – and I spent most of the time trying to explain the importance of ordering correctly. I thought he had it down. “Do you have money?” I asked.
“Do yew tink Le Clown eez pour, Neecole Mawrie?” Le sigh. Finally, it was our turn. I took a deep breath and crossed my fingers as Le Clown moved to the counter.
“Ahem. Gewd evuhning, le sir. Wun le steak wit le cheeze.” I looked on in horror as the man on the other side of the window laughed in Le Clown’s face and told him to get to the back of the line and try again. Le Clown did not comply. “Wun le steak wit le cheeze, or eet will bee yur HED!” Le Clown stared. The Philadelphia man stared back. Then, to my surprise, his face softened.
“Get this man a le steak and le cheese on the house, would ya?” My jaw dropped. “I like you,” the man said, shaking Le Clown’s one gloved hand. “You got spunk.” Le Clown looked at me and smiled, then put a Canadian dollar in the tip jar. I totally forgot to take Facebook pictures.
It might be ugly, but damn is it good.
And so our time had run out. I took Le Clown back to the airport, his cheeks still covered in cheese whiz. I didn’t bother telling him. He can read all about it here, when the Dilaudin has worn off and he asks me what the hell we did when he came to visit. It was fantastic to see you, Le Clown. Come back and visit our great city real soon, when you’re feeling better.
**Note: I don’t actually litter! And here’s my blog.
Message from Le Clown:
The winner of the ACOF Club Member Wrangler contest will be announced this Sunday, on Le Clown’s Facebook page, at 11AM, Eastern time. Now fuck off.
And you should head over The Hook’s blog today where he is playing Myth Busters‘ on Le Clown’ magnificent™ ass: The Legend of Le Clown.
All you want to know is here: http://clownonfire.wordpress.com/about/
Not quite the Le Clown visit I would have been expecting but it definitely sounds well worth getting some of what he’s on!
Posted by Long Life Cats and Dogs | February 9, 2013, 07:33Right?! I had to resist the urge to steal some of his Dilaudin.
Posted by Nicole Marie | February 9, 2013, 10:41Nicole Marie,
So glad I had to go to Philly to catch Tegan and Sara, a Canadian act… I was sad in my heart to not have bumped into Rocky, even though we did see Rocky II at Geno’s.
You were a graceful host, NM.Very sorry again for drooling all over your truck. Now can you tell me where is the airport? I woke up naked in Logan Square, got lost in Reading Terminal Market, and I’ve been told that Bruce Springsteen does not live around Rittenhouse Square, contrary to what Twelve Monkeys want you to believe.
Le Clown
PS: Le Clown doesn’t drink… There, it had to be said. On dilaudid.
Posted by Le Clown | February 9, 2013, 08:20HA! Isn’t it a shame I didn’t bother looking up where Tegan and Sara are from? Ah, well. I love them. The drooling is forgiven, and I hope you’ve found the airport by now. And I’m sorry for force-feeding you beer while you were all drugged up.
Posted by Nicole Marie | February 9, 2013, 10:42Haha!! Great job, Nicole!
Posted by twindaddy | February 9, 2013, 08:38Thank you, twindaddy!
Posted by Nicole Marie | February 9, 2013, 10:43I feel like scrapple was invented by the founding fathers.
Posted by speaker7 | February 9, 2013, 09:13Speaker7,
Hi. Bye.
Le Clown
Posted by Le Clown | February 9, 2013, 09:18Nicole Marie did a fine job of showing you the high points of Philadelphia, Eric. You hit all the gastronomical high points, too, which is sort of a plus when you are in Phillie. I hope you enjoyed your visit to one of our oldest and most famous cities. Did Nicole Marie write a posem in your honor. I hope she will.
Posted by mairedubhtx | February 9, 2013, 09:20Nice Nicole! Your trip had drugs, hipsters, tourism, artwork, and fine cuisine. The only way this post could be more complete is if Sylvester Stallone and the Le Clown were in a no holds barred street fight with a gang of hipsters. Rocky 7?
Posted by josefkul | February 9, 2013, 10:37Thank you, josefkul! Damnit, now I feel like this story is missing something. Perhaps during his next visit we can get Le Clown and Sylvester together. I’ll be sure to YouTube it.
Posted by Nicole Marie | February 9, 2013, 10:44Nicole Marie,
You sound like the best damn host/tour guide/hottie on the freakin’ planet!
Well done!
Posted by The Hook | February 9, 2013, 10:48Woohoo!! Thank you, Hook!!! Those are some heavy compliments!!
Posted by Nicole Marie | February 9, 2013, 10:49I know what I’m talking about.
I’m a bellman.
Posted by The Hook | February 9, 2013, 10:51Bellmen know ALL.
Posted by Nicole Marie | February 9, 2013, 10:52You are as wise as you are beautiful.
Posted by The Hook | February 9, 2013, 10:53Le Clown,
You may want to check out my blog today as it expands – or destroys – your legendary status.
I had a blast exploring your fascinating past. I hope you enjoy my work for whatever merit it has.
If any.
Posted by The Hook | February 9, 2013, 10:50Last time I was in Philly, I saw the Happy Mondays and Psychedelic Furs in a tiny little room.
Then we did the crawl on South Street.
And while it sounds like a great day (and brought back a lot of memories), you lost me at Geno’s.
PATS ALL THE WAY, BABY!!!
Posted by El Guapo | February 9, 2013, 11:17Pfffttttt!!!!!!
Posted by Nicole Marie | February 10, 2013, 11:51This is awesome, Nicole. You spin a good yarn that doesn’t stop being entertaining. Joe’s a lucky dude.
Posted by calahan | February 9, 2013, 12:49Wow, thank you Mr. Calahan! A huge compliment from one of the funniest bloggers I follow. I take that to heart. Thank you.
Posted by Nicole Marie | February 10, 2013, 11:50Entertaining and funny post, Nicole. Even if Le Clown doesn’t remember it, you’ll have it here now for eternity! Now, I’m going to eat a Cheese Steak. I’m sure we do it all wrong in California.
Posted by The Bumble Files | February 9, 2013, 14:41Thank you!! How do you guys do it over there? I have people from across the US come in to my bar quite often asking for “red sauce” on their cheesesteaks. At first I was confused then I figured out it’s the norm to put marinara on cheesesteaks in some states. We just call that a pizza steak!
Posted by Nicole Marie | February 10, 2013, 11:50I Used to go to Tattoo Moms. Loved playing with the little toys on the tables. Love south street.
Posted by rich | February 9, 2013, 14:47YES! I love playing with the little frog things you press down on on the back, so they hop around.
Posted by Nicole Marie | February 10, 2013, 11:49Nicole,
Question for you: Will Philadelphia ever consider changing their motto to something less archaic and sexist: The City of Sibling Love… God that’s lame, Le Clown…
Le Clown
Posted by Le Clown | February 9, 2013, 15:10That was a bit lame, Le Clown. But you’re still awesome. How about The City of Gay-Straight-Lesbian-Bi Love? Now we’re gettin’ all PC.
Posted by Nicole Marie | February 10, 2013, 11:49Awesome… I wish you would stop inviting Le Clown into our country, but this was funny stuff.
Posted by pouringmyartout | February 9, 2013, 16:07Thank you, sir. We just can’t help ourselves.
Posted by Nicole Marie | February 10, 2013, 11:48We are all just his play things… that sounds sexier than it really is…
Posted by pouringmyartout | February 10, 2013, 11:53i would take umbrage at the fact that that sounded sexy at all……
Posted by sacha1nch1 | February 13, 2013, 01:21Don’t take my umbrage! I only have three left for the weekend…
Posted by pouringmyartout | February 13, 2013, 09:03Well you should have thought of that before you left them all lying about the place!
Posted by sacha1nch1 | February 13, 2013, 18:54You lie!!! They were in their special glass-fronted umbrage case.
Posted by pouringmyartout | February 13, 2013, 18:59An empty bottle of gin is not a ‘special glass-fronted umbrage case’!!!
Posted by sacha1nch1 | February 13, 2013, 19:02Is too… and it was rum… with a picture of a pirate on it.
Posted by pouringmyartout | February 13, 2013, 19:05……are you crying?
Posted by sacha1nch1 | February 13, 2013, 19:07You took my pirate bottle too…
Posted by pouringmyartout | February 13, 2013, 19:08Was it the one you fought Jack Sparrow for…..naked on the back of a sperm whale, your only weapons being the breasts of an aged mermaid and the hind leg of an old salty sea dog, tossed upon the tumultuous waves of the deadly and unforgiving Panama Canal?
Posted by sacha1nch1 | February 13, 2013, 19:23First of all, he was naked, not I. And that mermaid was ‘of age’, not aged like some cheese. And it was just the leg of an old salty sea dog… which is slang for sailor, not an actual quadruped. You did get the Panama canal part right though.
Posted by pouringmyartout | February 13, 2013, 19:26And the species of whale? Please tell me I got that right?! My Leviathanologist university lecturer from some place some where would never forgive me….
Posted by sacha1nch1 | February 13, 2013, 19:39I never fight on the back of any kind of whale other than sperm… because it just makes me giggle.
Posted by pouringmyartout | February 13, 2013, 19:41Then I must highly recommend the Booby Whale, the Whoopsie Whale and the Dick Cheney Got His Penis Stuck In A Blender Whale.
Posted by sacha1nch1 | February 13, 2013, 19:51You made that last one up.
Posted by pouringmyartout | February 13, 2013, 20:17Verily I did not, sir! It’s latin name is Biggus twattus, it spends its time between McLean, Virginia; Jackson, Wyoming; and its own substantial arsehole, and it feeds on the souls of the poor….I’ll be honest; it’s pretty much only its name that’ll make one giggle.
Posted by sacha1nch1 | February 13, 2013, 20:33I watch the Nature Channel all the time and I have never seen Dick Cheney’s dick inside any animal… there was that one bootleg porno movie about the hamsters… but that is a fish of a different color.
Posted by pouringmyartout | February 13, 2013, 21:49A hamster is not a fish my friend; it’s actually a reptile.
Posted by sacha1nch1 | February 13, 2013, 22:14Not the East Dakota swamp hamster, I am taking about the West China Sea hamster. That is at least 87% fish.
Posted by pouringmyartout | February 13, 2013, 22:23Ah, I see; but you are aware that the ‘hamster’ part of West China Sea Hamster is a misnomer – it was so named by too eager a taxonomist who mistook a dead, washed up, slightly frazzled 87% fish for a lizard having a rest.
Posted by sacha1nch1 | February 13, 2013, 22:33No, it was reverified by Sphinctergarrd and Boomshtuffel of the Heinsdorff Acadamy as being an actual real life part fish… wait, didn’t you just prove my point???
Posted by pouringmyartout | February 13, 2013, 23:56‘Prove’ is such a vast, complicated, intricate, multifaceted, Daedaleanly esoteric word that I simply couldn’t – yes……yes I did, and I was aware of it too.
Posted by sacha1nch1 | February 14, 2013, 00:03No one yields quite as gracefully and with such flair as you do, my friend, when faced with the overwhelming wrongitude of their nonrightness.
Posted by pouringmyartout | February 14, 2013, 00:06I do believe, sir, that you have mistaken me somewhat; I grant most wholeheartedly that the West China Sea Hamster is indeed at least 87% fish – the sterling work performed by Sphinctergarrd and Boomshtuffel of the Heinsdorff Acadamy can leave no enlightened person in any doubt – my point however, was that it is not ‘technically’ a hamster….for it is not a reptile.
Other examples of this misnaming are the ground hog – which is not a hog
the sea horse – which is not a horse
and the hippopotamouse
Posted by sacha1nch1 | February 14, 2013, 00:20What exactly isn’t the hippopotamouse???
The ground hog was thusly named due to its tendancy to ‘hog’ a lot of ground. I admit that the sea horse is just a cute name for an animal that looks a little like another animal. But the Sea Hamster is certainly hamster enough to continue to be called a hamster…fish…
Posted by pouringmyartout | February 14, 2013, 00:24The hippopotamouse is not a mouse……
and the Sea Hamster and a true hamster could not be more different: one needs water in which to live, the other does not; one lays soft eggs with thin membranes, the other leathery shelled eggs; the hatchlings of one are dissimilar to the adult so metamorphose, the other hatches as a miniature form of the adult….forgive the pun, sir, but i feel i am teaching you to suck eggs.
Posted by sacha1nch1 | February 14, 2013, 00:43Well Mr. Smartypants, I am getting ready to give you a lesson in sucking that doesn’t require any eggs at all… other than in the loosest sense of the word, by which I mean the Spanish word for eggs is also slang for a part of …. oh never mind. I will graciously conceed the point that perhaps I was mistaken… when I admitted that I could have been wrong.
Posted by pouringmyartout | February 14, 2013, 01:01No one yields quite as gracefully and with such flair as you do, my friend, when faced with the overwhelming wrongitude of their nonrightness.
Posted by TheSeedSaidSo | February 14, 2013, 01:08Exactly why I haven’t invited Le Clown to visit California. We already have enough crazies.
Posted by robincoyle | February 9, 2013, 17:14Robin,
You mean, you haven’t seen me during my lovely trip to Sausalito? No worries, it will be on ACOF in the near future…
Le Clown
Posted by Le Clown | February 9, 2013, 19:24So that was what caused the explosion in Sausalito. Now I understand.
Posted by robincoyle | February 9, 2013, 19:52Robin,
Exactly, the collective orgasm.
Le Clown
Posted by Le Clown | February 9, 2013, 20:04Nicole, you write wit steak and wit cheese and wit wit. I’m sure Le Clown will want to return to your lovely city, if only for the naked bike riding. Great post!
Posted by happyzinny | February 9, 2013, 17:40Deadly Nightshades,
I’ve seen you on Carnies’ Corner… I have started reading posts again…. I shall be around your neck of the woods tomorrow.
Le Clown
Posted by Le Clown | February 9, 2013, 19:27Merci and hope you are well!
Posted by happyzinny | February 9, 2013, 19:45Thank you, happyzinny! I’ve always wanted to join in on the naked bike riding event…but I’m a little…shy.
Posted by Nicole Marie | February 10, 2013, 11:47hysterical. wheres the next trip? i want in.
Posted by Pigeon Heart | February 9, 2013, 18:32PH,
Email sent to you.
Le Clown
Posted by Le Clown | February 9, 2013, 19:26Thank you, Pigeon Heart!
Posted by Nicole Marie | February 10, 2013, 11:47Well done Nicole … hopefully US Border agents will do a better job next time.
Posted by aFrankAngle | February 9, 2013, 20:55We can only hope. Thank you, Frank!
Posted by Nicole Marie | February 10, 2013, 11:46
Posted by aFrankAngle | February 11, 2013, 07:11Now I’m really conflicted…do I go to Philly and crash on Nicole’s bar top (wit or wit out, I’m good either way), or skip across the Canadean border and try to bribe LeClown into visiting Texas? I can barter some fajitas and chili for a poutine, have we a deal?
Posted by nicky301 | February 9, 2013, 21:18BOTH! Thanks for reading, Nick!
Posted by Nicole Marie | February 10, 2013, 11:46Applause! It sounds like a great trip. Le Clown, always welcome in Belgium, you kow!
Posted by No Blog Intended | February 10, 2013, 06:24Thank you!
Posted by Nicole Marie | February 10, 2013, 11:44Le Fucking Funny!™
Posted by Addie | February 10, 2013, 07:43Thank you, Addie!!
Posted by Nicole Marie | February 10, 2013, 11:44Ah, Philadelphia. I miss it sometimes.
It was always fun to bring people by the Liberty Bell. They’d be excited for a few seconds and then realize that they’re just looking at a big bell with a crack in it. “Oh. So that’s it?” “Yep, that’s it.”
Posted by The Cutter | February 10, 2013, 07:54Well done. I heart Philly. It’s my second-favorite city in the US after NYC. But I’m sad that you didn’t take Le Clown to Reading Terminal Market for a pork sandwich at Tommy DiNic’s.
Posted by Madame Weebles | February 10, 2013, 16:48I know I know, I’m disappointed in myself for not taking him to such a Philly staple. I haven’t been there myself in years. FAIL!
Posted by Nicole Marie | February 11, 2013, 12:28I love all the food you two ate!!! Will you show me around Nicole if I’m ever in the area?!
Posted by vyvacious | February 11, 2013, 04:07Ooh, naked bike ride?!?!
Posted by vyvacious | February 11, 2013, 04:08HELL YES! We’ll get nice and fat then go on the naked bike ride, bahahahaha
Posted by Nicole Marie | February 11, 2013, 12:27Purrrrfect
Posted by vyvacious | February 11, 2013, 12:30Oh, golly. Poor Le Clown, still out of it! Still, you had fun, and that was the main thing, right?
Posted by faithhopechocolate | February 12, 2013, 09:14birds
Posted by TheSeedSaidSo | February 27, 2013, 21:27be
Posted by TheSeedSaidSo | February 27, 2013, 21:35try
Posted by TheSeedSaidSo | February 27, 2013, 21:46