Diary of a Nerd King #2: The Complete 2nd Season - Episodes 1 to 8 (16 page)

 

We’d probably leave off the rest because it’s funnier if the shirt just says the first line.  Plus the whole poem is a little long to put on a shirt.

 

Bean, beans, the magical fruit

The more you eat, the more you toot

The more you toot, the better you feel

So eat your beans at every meal.

 

Or you might have heard a different variation.

 

Beans, beans, they're good for your heart

The more you eat, the more you fart

The more you fart, the better you feel

So let's eat beans with every meal.

 

or

 

Beans, beans, they're good for your heart

The more you eat, the more you fart

The more you fart, the more you eat

The more you sit on the toilet seat

 

“Insane Clowns, Wikipedia, and Justin Bieber”

Season 2 – Episode 207

 

Written and Illustrated by

Matt Ballard

 

© Copyright Matt Ballard 2012

All rights reserved.

 

http://www.diaryofanerdking.com

 

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Thursday

 

I woke up screaming last night.  This time I know I was screaming because anybody would scream if they had the dream I had. 

 

The good thing is that it was a silent scream.  I don’t know how that happens, but I’m sure glad it does because the last thing I need is to wake up screaming AND have everybody else in the house find out, which is usually what happens because they wake up when they hear you screaming. 

 

(This is my drawing of a famous painting called “The Scream” by this famous artist dude named Edvard Munch.  It’s a pretty wicked awesome painting.  You should check out this
picture of the original
.)

 

I can just imagine how much fun Tabi would have telling everybody she knows that I have nightmares that make me scream like a little girl. 

 

I can see it now.  She’d probably draw a picture of me as a little girl playing with dolls or something, and then stick it up all over school. 

 

 

Sometimes I don’t know which is worse, imagining all the horrible things Tabi would do if she found out stuff, or the actual horrible things she actually does.  What was God thinking when he invented sisters!

 

But back to my dream.  I shot straight up in bed, and my mouth was open wide in what was an awful sounding blood-curdling howl, at least in my dream.  Thank God it was silent in the real world!

 

I was drenched in sweat.  My hair was wet and stuck to the sides of my head.  Even my bed was soaked. 

 

 

As I looked around in the dark, there was only one thing on my mind, and I for SURE didn’t want to see that thing in my room. 

 

Unfortunately, I did keep seeing it, but I was pretty sure it was just the image in my head from my dream, burned into my eyes or my brain or whatever.  I mean, honestly, what is the likelihood that you’re going to wake up and find an insane looking clown in your bedroom?

 

I know what you’re thinking, and you can stop right there.  No, I don’t have a childish phobia of clowns.  I’m not one of those kids you hear about that’s terrified every time they see one at the circus or when a McDonalds commercial comes on TV.

 

 

I’ve never had a problem with clowns before in my life… until now. 

 

But you have to understand something.  This clown was different.  This clown was nuts, absolutely crazy, insane, off his rocker. 

 

I don’t care how tough you are, you would’ve woke up drenched in sweat and screaming too if you had a dream with this nut-bar clown in it.  Even Darth Vader would’ve.  Wolverine too.  Batman, Spiderman, Magneto, it doesn’t matter.  I’m telling you this clown would freak you out!

 

 

He was wearing white face paint, with a big fuzzy red wig and one of those big squishy red noses to match.  He had big red circles painted on his cheeks, and his lips were drawn in with big red strokes of lipstick or facepaint too. 

 

He wore a big red bowtie, with little white polka-dots on it, and big bright red jacket over a white button-up shirt with a HUGE collar.  The red jacket had a HUGE collar too.

 

He wore over-sized red and white striped pants that were held up with black suspenders.  The suspenders were the really thick kind, and the clips at the end of them that fastened to his pants were actually giant eyeballs that peeked out at you every time he moved and his coat swished to the side.

 

He had perfectly white, tight-fitting gloves on his hands, and a pair of those over-sized clown shoes on his feet that were bright red too. 

 

But it was the face and eyes that did it.  Those eyes were terrifying!  Just crazy looking, with streaks of black make-up or eyeliner or whatever they call it, painted on it quick little slashes that made it look like the whites of his eyeballs were floating in a black pit. 

 

 

And he had this beard, not a full, nice, fuzzy beard like Santa has, but a short and stubbly one, like the kind you see a bum on TV sleeping in a cardbox under a bridge has.  It was colored in shades of prickly black which sure didn’t help him look any friendlier, let me tell you.

 

 

It was the combination of the red and white perfectly matched clothes, the big bowtie, the big red wig, nose, and the over-sized jacket, pants, and shoes… all things you’d normally expect a clown to wear, but when combined with those crazy looking eyes and that stubbly beard, it was wickedly scary!

 

Trust me, you don’t want this guy to show up at your little brother or sister’s birthday party.  He’d probably eat all the kids instead of having a piece of cake!

 

As I lay back in my bed and my heart-beat began to return to normal, I started to wonder what in the name of Hannah Montana was up with all these crazy dreams I was having!  (don’t tell anybody I just wrote “what in the name of Hannah Montana.”  I don’t know where that came from, and I promise I won’t say it or write it again.  Just don’t tell anybody.)

 

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