There are a few things that consistently induce joy the world over: yogurt pretzels, Up , “Party Rock Anthem.” You can’t help but smile when you think about those three. I can tell you’re smiling right now (See? I’m right). My purpose here is to dispel the myth that people wearing excessive facepaint and grotesquely colorful clothing and disgustingly oversized footwear also induce joy. I can’t even begin to describe how un-funny clowns are. Like I can’t even. Why do you think it’s hilarious when you wear an entirely absurd wig (Fact: no one has rainbow hair) and ten inches of makeup and dance around in my face? It’s not funny! And take those shoes off. There’s no way those are comfortable. Oh, now you’re honking your bulbous red nose? Who do you think you are to squeeze your nostrils at me? When news of the 2011 Homecoming theme, “Circus,” reached me, I immediately decided that should a clown dress-up day occur, I would avoid it at all costs. Circuses are not my problem; they are slightly dirty and at times loud, but overall they are tolerable. Clowning, on the other hand, is an entirely unnecessary enterprise. The following is an example of a conversation I would have with a clown making a stupid face should he/she approach me. “Hey clown, why are you making a stupid face at me?” I ask politely. “Where are your scruples?” The clown continues to make a stupid face at me and at closer range, so as to more effectively violate my personal bubble. “Get away, clown,” I say, rolling up my sleeves. “Seriously. You’re not funnier when you’re in my face. I can’t even look at you without feeling uncomfortable, clown. Like I can’t even.” But the clown, ever the stubborn little bugger, decides to start juggling or riding a unicycle to distract me from his ugly getup and annoying disposition. After realizing my reasonable demands of the clown will never be enough to get rid of him, I storm off. If your sole aim is to be funny, try telling a few knock-knock jokes or reenacting “Shopping with Virginiaca.” But don’t be all weird with the makeup and the shoes and the nose. This is my last Ames High homecoming. Give me a break.