Namaste!!!

Now, I’m not your ordinary forumwarz poster, and I’m sure you’ve gleaned that much from my posts already. I’ve lived a long, adventurous life, and I think the best way to introduce myself is to tell my life story. I believe one’s past is one’s present and future: the trials we go through in life shape us into the individuals we are.

I was born on New Years Day, 1962, and lived a typical life in 60s suburbia. However, I was instilled rather bigoted values in life by my rather irresponsible parents, and I would say inappropriate and slanderous things to people in minority groups. Times back then weren’t quite as progressive as they are now, and I was misled into libeling blacks, jews, and gays as being second-clbum people, non-humans, if you will.

At the age of twelve, I came into contact with a group of homosexual S&M leather bikers. I immediately called them “fabulous persons” and spit on them, thinking I was above them. However, they weren’t pbumive and wouldn’t take any lip from even a young boy who knew jack **** about the world, so when I turned my back I was grabbed, handcuffed, blindfolded, and gagged. They then proceeded to kidnap me.

They then led me into a building and into some room, where they removed my blindfolds and sat me on a chair. I saw 6 gay muscular men, clad in leather, all looking at me. I was afraid, deeply afraid that they’d molest me and do horrible things. Then one of them spoke up. I do not remember the exact words he used, but it went something like this:

“Son, you think that just because we’re gay that you can say that bull**** to us. We’ve had brothers die in ‘nam, fighting for your country, no, our country, and you think you can just think we’re lesser human beings? You think we can’t handle **** the world gives us? You’re damn wrong, boy, and you’re about to find out just how damn wrong you are.”

At that point, I feared for my life and the status of my whitey-tighties. Then:

“See each of us men? We can handle a lot. We’ve been in fights, hell, George here had to witness half his platoon blow up from a Viet-Cong booby trap, and had to limp back to base after falling into a bamboo spike hole. You think we can’t handle your bull****? Well, son, you’re damn wrong. I want you to **** each of us in the bumhole and see if we can’t handle your bull****. You do that, we let you go.”

That night I learned a lot about what it means to be a man, whether on top or on bottom.

I immediately shaped up my attitude towards minorities, and thought about my life’s direction at such a young age; indeed, I would not go into combat to kill people, or into any ministry of hate within America at that time. I would become something people would cherish, something that would make people enjoy their short time on earth. I decided to become a clown.

My early teen years led my initial pbumion into becoming a clown fade with the diversion of left-wing politics. I fought racism and homophobia with all my heart, and while I still retain the core beliefs I held then, I have mellowed out a bit with age.

At the age of 18 my early dream came back in an explosion of pbumion, I decided to enroll in clown college, learning all the tricks of the trade, and graduating at the top of my clbum. I would go to children’s parties and lighten anyone’s sour mood into a rainbow of love and jest. However, I knew something was missing.

I remembered fondly that day those bikers took me in and made a man out of me, and taught me that all people are human beings and that nobody is above another, and that we’re all equal. By pure chance — perhaps the work of God, if he really does exist — I met one of them at a bar and we immediately recognized each other. He seemed apprehensive at first, but after the initial pleasantries he lightened up and was pleased at how my attitude changed. The topic of sadomasochism came up, and though I am not gay, he arranged a date to show me to skills that I had not learned in clown college.

I began hanging out with them, and soon enough I was living a dual life: Wearing multicolor wigs and shaping balloons by day, and whipping someone’s bum by night. It was tiring and schizophrenic existence, and my two pbumions in life almost led to disruptions of identity and a nervous breakdown.

After waking up in my own **** and sweat, I decided to kick my heroin addiction and that I would cease the splitting of my persona. I decided that I would combine my love of S&M with my pbumion of entertaining people as a clown.

I became the most sadistic clown ever, perhaps, honking horns in people’s faces while they tried to **** out the carrot I inserted in their bum. I made people laugh, I made people cry, and most of all, I made life worth living for me once again.

If you’re interested in my life as a sadomasochistic clown, please send me a message and I’ll be happy to respond!