This reminds me of my childhood. My dad took me to a parade because there would be ponies and pony rides, and I loved these things. However, the ponies were escorted by MOTHERFUCKING CLOWNS. I clung to his pant leg and declined offers to ride the pony, to feed the pony a carrot or to take a piece of candy from his creepy-ass clown self.
I just don't love ponies as much as I hate clowns. And if you knew how much I love ponies, you'd know how much that's saying.
1 comment:
Run child, run for your life!
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