It was dark. Foreboding. The kind of night

It was dark. Foreboding. The kind of night that makes your shoulders tense up once you exit the back door into the yard. Is that the sprinklers? No, they're off. Something

was bouncing about and ticking on the lawn. Could it be a Willy Wagtail? I rushed back inside to grab my Native Birds of Australia Guidebook 2012 Edition. It was late at night and

I accidentily grabbed the DSM III book that I have, in case of emergencies. Funny, this creature dancing around on the lawn looked nothing like the pictures in the book. I decided

the primary DSM diagnosis was Unspecified Mental Disorder (nonpsychotic) with a secondary diagnosis of Disorder of Written Expression.This would explain every fold on Folding Story

. Years pass and the creators have left for future pastures. But the website was still up and soon more and more people did FoldingStory. Whole countires economies stagnated.

Families broke down. People everywhere stopped going to work & school. Within months the entire world was playing FoldingStory. We weren't productive in the traditional sense, but

we knew there had to be an angle. "Facebook. Twitter!" I removed my clown shoe and began to gavel the podium. My fellow clowns just stared at me with their idiotic painted on faces

, some were sad, some were happy. Clown rallies are really a depressing affair. You don't realize how dehumanizing being a clown is until you sit in a room with a bunch of them.

Laughing on the inside my ass. It's all just deep dark despair and pancake makeup.