Today's post for Vivianna Week is a guest post by my friend, and fellow author, Lor Rose. It's extremely hilarious, so be forewarned.
In honor of Vivianna Week I decided to write a little tid bit of one of my birthdays when I was little.
This was my sixth or seventh, to be honest I can’t really remember BUT I do remember that no matter the party, I had the best most over the top ones of any child in the entire neighborhood. This particular party was one of the better ones taking place in my Meme’s one acre backyard. My cousin brought her horse for “pony rides” even though the horse was no pony by any means. I petting zoo with various lovable kritters came soon after along with a clown. Now up until this point in life I had no problem whatsoever with clowns.
This is my tale of why clowns suck.
The clown (who wore a hideous yellow jumper with varying patters that would cause a seizer in certain children, the standard big red shoes, a purple curly haired wig, and of course the icing layer of frosting make up with a fake smile) owned the petting zoo. Two for one special yes?
Anywhoop to make a long story short the party as usual was a complete success. Over the course of this lovely affair I fell in love with a black baby pot bellied big. I forget the name now but I remember at the time I thought it very cool.
Petting the big in the clown’s arms I remember turning as my mother called the magic words over the party goers “Cake time!” now as you know cake to any young one is something close to magical.
Something or rather happened (I’m not exactly sure what) but whatever it was the pig didn’t like it. Squealing as if being slaughtered the baby pot belly hops from the clown’s arms taking off for the driveway.
This clown covered in more frosting make up than my cake surges up screaming at the top of her lungs for her beloved pig. This was very frightening when not expected especially for the birthday girl.
Well needless to say the entire party marshaled together in utter chaos to try and capture this little kritter known as the pot bellied pig. The poor scared kritter veers straight for my poor defenseless mother holding my lovely cake.
Do you see where this is going?
With a screech and twist my cake went up, up, up! It was really very comical just like you’d see in the movies of people slipping and the cake goes flying.
Of course following the movie script the cake lands on my poor defenseless mother. The whole party stops in mid-motion to open mouth stare at what just happened. The poor pig completely forgotten by all except the clown who almost ran me over with her overly large red shoes.
The clown frantically searches for her beloved pig but to no avail while the rest of us stare fixedly at my poor mother covered in vanilla cake. I remember thinking I don’t like vanilla cake. Typical child, no?
The clown once again screeches for her pig. A cake covered arms points down and there munching on my cake was the baby black pot bellied pig. My cousins horse likewise paid little mind munching on her grass. The petting zoo kritters in the pen seemed to think my cousin’s horse set a good example.
“Can someone please get this shit off me and get me a fucking towel?”
A lot less of my friends came to my birthdays after that.
- Lor Rose
- I am an author. What I write: everything. I'm most fond of writing GBLT. If you don't know what that is. Look it up. I have very little shame & I am known as #TheGutterQueen to my circle on twitter. I am also bisexual and a Switch. Have a problem? I don't care. Love me or hate me. It's up to you. I warn you though. You just might love me.