
Yeah, Pierrot, we get it.

I said we get it.

Work that boucle.

Perhaps with pants next time.

This must be one of those "smiling on the inside" clowns.

Isn't this what you wore when you were seven and standing in front of the guest bedroom mirror pretending to be a model while staying at your great aunt Hazel's house?
Until she called out from the living room and said, "Where's my afghan?"

It's what a neon-stripey-undead-soccer mom wears to the grocery store when she just needs to pick up some milk.
Those folks at Lion Brand must be bursting with pride.