Well, I’ll talk about my clown, Barclay, soon. But first I have to share with you about another clown who just blows me away. Her name is Cinnamon. As you’ll understand better once you’ve seen more pictures, Cinnamon is just too much girl and not enough pajama for our man Barclay! I know Michelle (Cinnamon’s mom lol) a little bit from downtown, and saw her today at the Coop, and of course complimented her on the power of her clown.
I figured she had watched a lot of Blue Velvet and Last Tango in Paris, but turns out she was a loner during her tween years and used to dance in her mirror like Cinnamon to Britney Spears and Destiny’s Child. How about that for a cultural divide? That’s the difference between people born in 1961 and 1989 respectively, yet the power of a clown joins us in our shared humanity. I asked her what Cinnamon says on stage, my hearing aids can’t get it, and Michelle was unable to tell me because of the recondite depths of feminine taboo Cinnamon represents. That’s some deep freakin’ clown, that’s all I can say to that.
I have no idea what the butter is about.