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[wasp]

Perhaps not. Throughout my adult life my mind has from time to time drifted to a song by Johnny Burnette, written by PJ Proby. Its called "Clown Shoes". For some reason writers in the early sixties were obsessed with the worry that your dearest one would call you a clown. Hence Cathy's Clown and a few more that wont come to mind. Bit of a slur on clowns in my view. Anyway in this song, the singer's fiancee gives him a present to open in front of his mates. The unsuspectin oaf says thats nice, luv, but when he unwraps the present its a pair of , you've guessed it, clown shoes. This leads to what must be the dimmest middle eight of all time   
"oh no, not clown shoes, that must mean
I'm in for some mighty bad news"

I mean, slow on the uptake or what?

Anyway, as I said the song had hovered about in the back of my mind. I have often thought it might be a good one for a bit of audiance participation but I've never got round to it. Anyway, the wonders of the worldwide web mean that idly googling the song in the other evening I found a U tube version coming crystal clear out of my speakers and with photies of Johnny Burnette. And guesse what? I had never remembered the last verse, but when I heard it I realised what a fool I had been. It is on a par with Shakespeare. It's the first example of psycho confessional songwriting. It moved me almost to tears. Instead of walkin out that do, or goin out with her best friend, or tellin her mum, or goin drinkin with his mates, you wont believe what Johnny did when she gave him those clown shoes in front of his so called chums.For your amazement and entertainment I reproduce the last verse below

She laughed at me and called my name
And all my friends they did the same
But she was sweet and swell
And look how hard I fell
And now I know I was wrong
And so I'll go and put my clown shoes on


"And so I'll go and put my clown shoes on"

Yes, it seemed incredible when I heard it but Johnny Burnette, a red blooded American male abases himself infront of his bird in 1961. I can see him now, hangin on to the banister, desperately trying to get down stairs in those infernal clown shoes without goin arse over tit.
And I thought it was the worst song ever. Maybe I should go and put my clown shoes on. Now where did I put them?

[Skint]

you want bad? Cop for this......
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=D2XXuRHq15o

My ears bleed-make it stop.

[wasp]

Feck me, there's nothing wrong with that you miserable tw-t. Its a lively up tempo pop song put over with style and conviction by a charming young man and his sensual sister while Mum provides the  mature musical binding that holds this talented trio together.If only there were more such wholesome acts maybe the record industry wouldn't be in crisis. It certainly had me singing along.Most rock stars would do anything to have their Mums along at their gigs to provide some welcome parental advice. Janice Joplin would probably be alive today if ...... However there was one problem holding them back. They possibly ought to smile a wee bit more.

[Mick]

Big no need, the pair of yer! You just can't unhear something once you've heard it - unfortunately!

Anyhow, badgers don't like clowns, they're creepy and decidedly not right.

[wasp]

You think you've got problems. I have to strum and sing it atleaast five times a day. It wont let go. "oh no, not clown shoes"!