Clown of Thorns

Out in the yard the kiddies are all having a fuckin good time at
Brian's tenth birthday party. Oh lets all giggle together. Lets
inhale helium. Lets walk around with chocolate on our fuckin faces
and act like idiots. Fuckin brats. The girlies with the little grass
stained dresses showing off their cotton undies everytime they sit
down. How the hell am I supposed to not stare? Fuckin brats. And
Brian is the star of the show. BRIAN’s name on all the balloons. TO BRIAN
on all the gifts. Oh isn't he the lucky one! Ten years old and a
superstar for the day. Lets take a picture of BRIAN! Lets watch BRIAN
open his gifts! Lets let BUH-RIAN blow out his candles! OOOhh.. he did
them all at once! Did you make a wish BRIANNN!? I made a wish. I wish
everyone was dead. I wish that every birthday I ever had- but do I get my wish...
NOT ONCE! Good luck with yours  birthday boy.

The kids seem awfully drawn to me- I assume because I'm
in this clown costume. Look at me dance kids! Look at me fall down on
my fuckin ass! Look at me piss myself! Look at me grab you all by the
throats and choke you down! Look at me spray you all with gasoline and
light you up so I can watch a flaming parade. Maybe god will think
it's his birthday! But it's not gods birthday today it's better than
that! IT'S BRIAN'S!!

OH look BRIAN lets play pinata. get the stick BRIAN lets see what
prizes are in store for you bratboy. I hoist up the pinata especially
built for this party  and hand Brian the stick and give him a little
tickle. I blindfold him and spin his around as the kids cheer him on.
Swing Brian SWING buddy! WHAK it Brian! Swing and a miss swing and a
miss swing and a miss. Then finally whack! Brian makes contact and
sends the pinata spinning. I get nervous that it's gonna leak before
it splits open but it holds together. WHACK! a good shot that time
and the kids cheer again. GO BRIAN GO! Swing and a miss followed up
by a WHACK! In slow motion the pinata splits in two releasing the
goodies inside. A full belly of human diarrhea pours down all over
Brians head. The chunky stinky browness (all from the butt of yours
truly) covers him and gives him a birthday suit of brown brown. At
first there is silence. Dead silence. Then the laughter begins. The
children slow build to absolute hysterics. Pointing and giggling. One
kid shouts out 'DOODY!' Brian is too stunned to cry. He looks at
his hands in disbelief. At ten and practically a man I feel the best
birthday gift he could receive is a proper introduction to manhood,
life, and all it's brownious slendor. I join in with the laughter as I
pull the gun from my extra large 'Look at me! Aint I a clown!' pants.

itret