Well, The Man Has A Point. It Does Take Time To Crammle Aboon The Grees

well, the man has a point. it does take time to crammle aboon the grees

The thing about non-ironic clowns is, at the core of every clown there is a good man and a friend to all humanity.

If you leave a clown act without being 100% convinced that each and every one of the jolly jesters would gladly jump on a grenade for you and be blown into multicolored smithereens, it was a terrible act.

Renfield meeting Dracula at long last

Me: a socially awkward toothpick of a lady with the angst of a 15 year old, mental exhaustion of a 70 year old, and upper body strength of a 5 year old

The same dang military recruiter that's stalked me for over 4 years now:

Ma'am, you are INCORRECT let me rot in peace I am an ACTUAL, LITERAL, NON-METAPHORICAL CLOWN all I know is paint they face, juggle, eat hot chip, and die.

CONSUME THE COUNT CONSUME THE COUNT CONSUME THE COUNT

I feel like Renfield’s creature-eating accounting works kind of like mercury poisoning, in the sense that animals are being calculated to contain a higher and higher concentration of life the farther up in the food chain they go (life content of spiders is based on number of flies they’ve consumed, then birds go exponentially higher with number of spiders eaten plus number of flies each of those spiders ate, and so on.)

On that basis, the best and most powerful thing Renfield could possibly eat is Dracula. Which I am 100% sure is not how the book ends, but it would be pretty amazing.

And the little birdés also.

I have to assume that in the fullness of time, at least once, a mouse has used a mushroom as an umbrella.

That’s enough to keep me going.