Why I'm Running Away to Join The Circus

I've decided to run away and join the circus.

I'm not exactly sure when the next circus is due in town, but I bet there will be one pretty soon, and when they show up and start hammering away on those giant tent stakes, I'll be there.

I bet the first person I'll see will be The Fabulous Bearded Lady. Hollywood portrays those hirsute beauties all wrong if you ask me. Just because a woman is sporting a Gandalf beard doesn't mean she has to weigh four hundred pounds and sound like Randy Savage when she speaks. I bet there are lots of bearded women out there with delicate features and sultry voices. I bet they're really good listeners too.

I wonder what an entry level job in the circus might be? I assume it maybe involves some elephant poo and constant replacing of pine-scented air fresheners in the clown car.

What if there's a whole fleet of clown cars, all parked underneath a heavily guarded red and white tent? When the head clown decides to go out to dinner or go buy a new set of gigantic shoes, there's a whole cloaked out clown car motorcade racing through the back streets of the city. Clown SUVs loaded with Special Forces clowns, armed to their big red noses with AR-15 assault rifles and boutonniere grenade launchers. Maybe I could work with those guys, you know, after I earn their trust by taking a few dozen pies to the face.

I bet the Christmas parties and company picnics are craaazy. How many parties have you attended where you could overhear someone saying: "Hey, check out what I just taught my lion to do..."? Or "of course my beard is real, silly..."? Well, maybe you've heard that one, but have you heard it spoken in a sultry voice? No. You haven't. You've never been to a party like that and neither have I, but I want to. That's why I'm doing it. That's why I'm running off to the Three Rings.

I bet The Human Octopus could juggle twenty beer bottles at once if someone encouraged him a little, and I would love to see the ass-whoopings The Sword Swallower could hand out during chugging contests. That's memory making right there, folks. That's really living.

So if you don't hear from me for awhile, don't worry; I may have hopped a train to the nearest big top. I'll try to let you know when we'll be coming to town again and, if I can, I'll sneak you in through the back for better seats.

Just watch out for any clowns wearing dark sunglasses and talking into their cufflinks. If they catch you sneaking in, I'm not sure what they'll do.