Abby brought home dinner, after which I wanted to do something outside. I thought about shooting one of my 9mm pistols, but by the time we were done eating, it was getting a bit dark, so I just walked around the patch for a bit. As always, Buxton the goat wanted a piece of the action, so I brought him some branches and weeds. One of the weeds is one I have brought him before and he always declined, pokeweed. I grabbed some from the south fence and carried it over to the yard. He still declined to eat it. I guess he knows what he’s doing.
Afterwards there was a really cool pink stain on my left pinky finger, and it looked a little like maybe I had just killed a clown.
Here is my only clown joke: Two cannibals are eating a clown when one of them pauses and asks the other, “Does this taste funny to you?”
In retrospect, this isn’t really a joke, but a friend related this to me in college (circa 1993):
“How do you keep a clown from smiling? Hit him in the face with an ax.”