Friday, August 26, 1994

Natural Born Clowns


Two CLOWNS walk in -- a guy clown and a girl clown. One of them is holding a seltzer bottle. The fat MANAGER looks them up and down with amusement.

MANAGER: What're you gonna do...spritz me with that thing?

CLOWN #1 smiles and sprays him in the face.

MANAGER: Ahhh, my eyes!

Instinctively, his hands shoot up to his eyes. The second he does this, the other clown viciously gut-punches him. The MANAGER folds up like a pocket-ruler. One more club to the head with the seltzer bottle and he's down. CLOWN #1 smashes the seltzer bottle to the floor and pulls out a gun. CLOWN #2 pulls out another gun.

CLOWN #2: I say we waste these fucks, whaddya say?

CLOWN #1: I dunno Clowny-bunny.

CLOWN #2: We got any heroes here? Anybody wanna be a hero?

The camera pans to the people sitting in the diner. We see a long table. Sitting at the table are all the "Superfriends" -- Superman, Batman, Wonder Woman, etc. They all shake their heads no.

CLOWN #2: Gimme your fuckin' wallets!

They do.

Cut to the two CLOWNS driving away in a large, brightly colored clown-car with big bouncy wheels. CLOWN #2 is counting the take.

CLOWN #2: "Super Friends"...(snorting) "Super Fags" is more like it.

CLOWN #1: You think the police will be after us?

CLOWN #2: (pulling condom with large "S" from Superman's wallet) No.

CLOWN #1: Why not, Clowny-bunny?

CLOWN #2: 'Cause we're wearing this clown makeup, dumbass. They'll never recognize us!

EXT, view of clown car driving away comically down the road, obvious as all get-out.**

[I actually dreamed this, more or less as is. Ever now and then, your subconscious gives you one for free.]

Wednesday, August 24, 1994


to the tune of "I'm a Toys-R-Us Kid"

I don't wanna grow up.
I'm an HRS kid!
My mommy didn't beat me
But my daddy sure did!
With bricks and boards
And electrical cords.
That's why I'm an HRS kid!

Wednesday, August 10, 1994

Shall we gather at the reefer?

Ah, dearie, dear. The Man continues to persecute the Ethiopian Zion Coptic Church, having recently thrown "Brother Louv" in the slammer for pot possession. Seems the EZCC views pot-smoking as a sacrament. Which strikes me as, y'know, more mellowing than wafer and wine, though the Man doesn't share my opinion.

Let us turn in our hymnals to Hymn 420. "Shall We Gather At the Reefer?"

All rise.

Shall we gather at the reefer?
The beautiful, beautiful reefer.
Shall we gather at the reefer ...
And get completely stoned?