#Macjournal 6 donoad professional

#Macjournal 6 donoad professional

It was just like George to hire professional circus help. The local police, who didn't know Heinz from hemoglobin, picked him up for questioning. After waiting an hour for her to wake up, he got hungry and walked to the MacDonald's on Pringle Street. Another time he put a gun in her hand, covered himself in ketchup and laid down on the floor with his tongue hanging out. He once put a salamander in her panties, but the salamander disappeared and Daisy just kept on snoring. He was always doing things to wake her up. Being married to her was no great shakes, even for a good-humored man like George. Call him if you don't believe me.'ĭaisy was always tired, and fell asleep at the drop of a hat.

“I'm really a certified clown psychologist, here to help you with your sleeping sickness.

“Don't do that,” said the muffled voice beyond the door. 'Well, rolly polly pudding and beer! That is just why Bippy's here!' Honk-honk. 'Go away,' she yelled, her voice cracking. Daisy hoped she was dreaming, and she parted her faded blue bathrobe to pinch herself on the thigh. And then 'Honk! Honk!' went the bicycle horn again. 'It's Bippy the clown psychologist,' came the creepy yet cheerful voice from the other side of the door. She blew a strand of mousy-brown hair out of her eyes and hauled herself up on her scrawny elbows. 'Who is it?' She croaked from her supine position on the divan in her living room. The knocking she could fathom, but not the bicycle horn that honked in counterpoint to the steady beat of knuckles on wood. The constant pounding on the door woke Daisy Willikers from one of her chronic naps. The last few posts appeared on my website, a place where I have posted my writings for the past fifteen years, both published and non-published in “official” media.Ĭasebook of Bippy, the Clown Psychologist