Yesterday morning I went to my Doctors office to sort of confirm the prescription he had given me. He knew what I had and wired the medicine to my pharmacy, but I still had to go in and get checked out. I also had a question or him about some spots on my toes. About a year ago I noticed some little red spots on my toes. They slowly began to multiply. They do not itch, are not particularly unsightly, however I was curious as to what they were. I was afraid I might have some sort of funky toe fungus. Turns out they were actually small iron deposits. Whenever I do some sort of mild trauma to my feet, like when they swelled up massively after I fell off the roof, capillaries burst and blood cells get trapped and die in the skin. While the cell matter itself is absorbed, it leaves behind the tiny deposit of iron it was carrying. Thus I quite literally have rusty toes.
I also explained to the doc that the Devils Juice cough medicine was a little too strong to take at work. So he hooked me up with some sort of bizarre little purple plastic UFO looking medicine dispenser. You clack a lever on the side and then take a 'hit' off a mouthpiece. For the life of me I felt nothing come out. However, my cough this morning is almost gone despite the fact I was yelling my fool head off last night, so I guess it does something.
Last night was my first real run for horror nights. When I grabbed my costume off the rack, I noticed two things had been added. A bizarre little skullcap thingy with two bright orange locks of hair coming down the sides... and a dolly. That's right, I get to carry around a dolly. Also, the makeup they did for my face is quite clearly a clown. I'm actually a little nervous in the makeup chair. They use airbrushes, and I jump every time they turn it on me. Also, I hold my breath even though they say I don't have to. So I end up waiting for them to finish and then gasping for breath. I'm not very good in the makeup chair. However, most of the makeup people seem pretty nice.
I need to snap a couple pics backstage, there are a lot of funny sights. For instance, they have these two little waifish girls dressed like the girl from 'The Ring'. They are really small and slim and wear dirty green dresses with long wigs over their face. But what's amusing is they like to hold hands. So you have two little evil ring girls walking by holding hands. It made me chuckle.
So I did my routine last night. People walk by; I bounce around in my chair, laugh madly, and bang on the grate with my dolly. I really hate the little skullcap with hair they gave me. The hair is bright orange and dangles down like those little curls orthodox Jewish guys grow. The crap kept flying into my mouth. I'll be there rocking back and forth and suddenly inhale and the bright orange little hairs would get sucked into my mouth. It was all kinky like clown pubic hair. The third or fourth time this happened I put the cap on backwards so they would be out of reach.
No one ever looks at me like they are scared. They either laugh or just look disturbed. I always ignore the people who try to talk to you. They always have a girlfriend behind them. They walk right up and say "Hey my man, what's going on?' Whatever, dude.
I finally got out of there at midnight. On the way home I pulled into a Burger King for a burger. I was starved. I tried one of burger kings triple stackers. It was truly a meatwad. A big hunk of greasy beef glued together with bacon and cheese. The grease ran down my chin as I scarfed it down. Like I said, I was hungry. It tasted like heaven. However, it will be a while before I get another one. Eat too many of those and you will end up on the discovery channel telling your sad tale about the day you realized you could no longer fit out the front door.
2026 Update
Twenty years back, and our boy's toes are rusting while he swallows orange clown wig.
Ah, 2006: a golden age when a doctor could 'wire' your medicine to a pharmacy and you got a weird plastic UFO instead of a text notification. My complaint with the modern world is not the rust in your toes—that's poetic—but the way you were allowed to put a backwards clown cap on and bang a dolly against a grate for an entire night, and the only consequence was a Burger King triple stacker. Today, any one of those 'disturbed' guests would be filming you; you would never make it to midnight before your rusty-toed clown became content. Horror night used to be a local hazing ritual; now it's made-for-Instagram performance art. And your fast food? A true meatwad, consumed anonymously at 12:30 a.m. In 2026 you'd order it through an app, receive a notification from a ghost kitchen, photograph it, and politely complain about the 'smash burger experience.' The cap backwards? Honestly, a better choice than the modern world has made about almost everything.
“Why did you wait until the fourth mouthful of clown pubic hair to flip the cap, 2006 Ed? Was there a part of you that wanted to taste the full horror-night experience, or did you think the wig would fix itself?” — Beelzebubba the Third
2006 Ed: Well, Beelzebubba, that's a fair question, and the short answer is that I am a moron. The first time the orange hair got in my mouth, I thought it was a fluke. Second time, I figured maybe it would settle down. By the third, I was too busy trying not to choke while also bouncing around on a dolly to think clearly, so I just swallowed it and moved on. Fourth time, I finally had that brilliant flash: Hey, you could turn the cap backwards. It took four mouthfuls of fake clown hair for me to realize I control where the cap sits. I'm not proud of that. But in my defense, it was my first real run, the fog was everywhere, I was starving, and my brain was leaking out my ears. I'm the same guy who fell off a roof, so maybe I just have a slow processor. Lesson learned: always inspect the cap before wearing. Take that, clown pubic hair.
