You can't win 'em all in this game. There's

You can't win 'em all in this game. There's always going to be the ones that got away, went wrong or turned psychotic. I've learnt these lessons the hard way by 15 years hard graft

While I have been working here, I definitely developed favorites and dreamed of their futures and how successful they will become. It's about time that I learned life doesn't work.

A random swirling of magpies, a skirling of bagpipes, characters whirling in blizzards of meaning, meaningless and idiotic, a symbiotic dance. That's this life, in a nutshell. Yet

I hate life. Sure, lot's of people point to bagpipes and magpies and say chowdery-headed puss-bubble things like, "Ain't life grand?" I open my encrusted hateful lips and say

"Fuck you!" And then they go running. Oh, and how they'd run and run. I'd laugh and laugh with ecstasy. Truly, nobody says hateful things in response to annoying pleasantries like

Shedding light on the subject. Three years after this story was first folded, I was progammed to become a clown. All these buttons to push in place of the

one little button I used to push in order to squirt water from my boutonnière. I though that technology was going to make things simpler for clowns like me, but it wasn't so.

"Alexa, call me an Uber." The device beeped. "WOULD YOU LIKE A CLOWN UBER?" it asked. "Yes, yes," I muttered and I straightened my tiny tie and bent to re-tie my giant shoes.

I almost didn't notice that my ride had arrived. What clown in their right mind would expect an Uber driver to have a car the size of a Hotwheels? But I got in and off we went!