In love with the Wasco Clown

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The attraction is hard to explain, but that eerie feeling I get when I think of him, fluttering in my stomach like a zombie butterfly, is quite arousing. Never since Stephen King’s IT, has there been a clown as tantalizingly creepy as this Wasco Clown. Suffice it to say I am taking Halloween very seriously this year. I am watching American Horror Story practically in slow mo, browsing the web for serial killer biographies at 2 in the morning and flipping through articles about unsolved murders that are most fraught with supernatural lore. Regrettably, although I hear that haunted houses are on a whole other level this year, I must as per usual abstain from their offerings. I suffer from an imagination that is entirely too exuberant for this kind of attraction, it prevents me from partaking in gory dramatizations that are all around too effectual. It is an unfortunate but necessary sacrifice in favor of mental health. It’s good to know one’s limitations. 😛

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I just got my costume in the mail with all of its accompaniments and accessories, I am taking the task of dressing up this Halloween as seriously as the rest of it, down to the stockings and wigs. I am not terribly proud of the fact that it’s definitely pretty rather than scary or funny. Vanity got the best of me whilst browsing through my costume options online.  I mean can you blame me, what girl really in her heart of hearts prefers dressing up as a fetid, putrefying corpse rather than a princess. Next thing I knew there was a purchase receipt on my computer screen. Oh well. Maybe I’ll man up and give my Little Red Riding Hood a scary hag face, but I doubt it.

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