FOR REAL I’M OVER THESE CLOWNS, IF I SEE ONE HE’S GETTING STABBED BY MY GAME OF THRONES LETTER OPENER. That’s right. I have a Longclaw letter opener, aka Jon Snow’s sword. That’s some Valyrian steel right there. Don’t mess with me.
Actual picture of me fighting clowns.
These clowns are making me feel pretty proud of myself though. The other night, I had to go to Walgreens and get myself some candy and Gatorade. You may say Sammi, that’s not a need, that’s a want. I respond with I literally cannot get through a common cold without orange Gatorade. I like to fool myself and say that electrolytes are fucking amazing and they cure me when I feel like a walking bag of mucus and pain. God do I hate being sick. However I’m no longer sick, because my cold went away just as my period started yesterday! My body is truly a wonder of the world. I love how shit like that works.
Ok back to the clowns and my pride. So I was ready to go to Walgreens, and all of a sudden I heard that right outside my dorm building, four clowns were hanging around and were arrested. Apparently one of them had a knife. My immediate reaction to hearing this news was, “Ok I’m going to Walgreens,” and I got ready to leave. I put Longclaw in my back to assure my suitemates that I wouldn’t be killed. I asked everyone else and they were like, “No, just call me if you die.” Oh they didn’t have to tell me twice. I told them that if f I got stabbed by a clown I wouldn’t call the police. I’d call my them and say, “THERE’S BLOOD ON THE STREET, AND IT’S MY BLOOD AND I’M BLEEDING AND A CLOWN STABBED ME AND IT’S YOUR FAULT, YOU’RE NOT INVITED TO MY FUNERAL.” They took my threats pretty lightly. I am about as threatening as a baby hamster. Emily went with me though, because she cares if I live or die. Thanks Emily. You saved me from a possible death. And as you can all tell, I’m not in jail for murder, nor am I dead, therefore there must not have been any clowns blocking my path to my Bottlecaps and orange Gatorade. You would be….right! Wasn’t that suspenseful? Weren’t you so afraid for me? Thank you for caring. I told this to my mom too and she laughed. No one takes me seriously. My dad is also very amused by my clown stabbing claims, but whatever, I can’t be bitter about everyone not caring about my clown problems forever. I’ll just have to carry on and be brave because I am a lone wolf in this scenario. It’s ok. I’ll be fine. I’ll sit in my room and be PREPARE FOR THE CLOWNPOCALYPSE BY MYSELF EVERYONE. DON’T MIND ME.
I just reread the first line of that long ass paragraph about my own bitterness and realized I was supposed to be talking how this gives me a sense of confidence in myself. So here’s the pride part. I used to be so anxious I was afraid to go to school in middle school for two weeks because I was afraid of being kidnapped by a red van that’d been spotted in the area. I cried every day over that shit until my dad had to sit me down and talk to me about it. Flash forward to now, I can go out at night to buy myself nice things even with the threat of murder clowns out there!! Progress!! When everyone’s being pessimistic about this clown shit going on, I gotta look on the bright side. Also, maybe with this clown drama going on, it’ll give people an excuse to beat Jared Leto with a bat!! See? Positive!! So the journey is long, the journey is still going on, but I’m less afraid of death now than I used to be, and that’s something important to think about in my humble opinion.
With that I leave you, my healthy lil hippopotamuses. Again, witness my terrible inability to know how to pluralize things and my incredible laziness when it comes to looking such trivial things up. I promise I spell check and do this when I’m writing papers and my resume and all that fun official stuff. I do care about spelling and things. Ok here’s the hippo:
Literally they look like the pugs of the wild world.