I got this email from my dad this morning, with no other text than what I've copied, and no explanation. You have as much context as I do.

"Conor the dog jumped out of bed barking and scrambled to the back door. In that fugue between deep sleep and conscientiousness we could hear him standing there barking furiously to the point of hoarseness and gagging. Something was out back that obviously did not belong there.

Mom, still half asleep, yelled "Conor, Conor! Stop... it's Okay."

I was startled awake when my feet hit the cold floor and looking out the back window could see that it was definitely not okay for just as I reached the hysterical dog I saw the first clown hit the ground, roll, and start collapsing his parachute.

Some movement above me caught my eye and looking up I could see 9 maybe 10 more clowns dropping out of the sky. The early morning sun made their orange hair glow brightly and the wind rippling their red and yellow stripped baggy pants made them shimmer as they landed one after another into the large grassy yard just beyond my apple trees.



Hmmmm.... I'm not sure where to go from here."

HAHAHAHAHAHA.... That is hilarious. So when do I get to meet your dad?!

I see dad waited until he was a bit older before deciding to experiment with psychedelics...

It kinda sounds like a fucked up version of, Twas the night before Christmas.

I am reasonably certain that my father and your father share some kind of common dark thread in their respective pasts.

"The first few to land, having secured their chutes, were standing in a
cluster in the middle of the field looking skyward and pointing as the last
clowns to arrive were still gathering big billows of red and white nylon and
parachute cord. Following thier gaze upward I could see hanging below the
last bright canopy either a very long clown or a regular size one with
something hanging beneath him. As he approached the ground it was plain to
see that he was wearing no pants, or rather that his red and yellow pants
were hanging from his ankles as he dropped. It was also plain to see that
he was off course and heading straight toward the giant grey beech tree at
the far end of the yard. He landed, pants first, dead center and dropped
into the tree with his chute tangling above him and his orange hair snatched
from his head sticking from the topmost branch like a warning beacon.

All of the clowns on the ground, tweleve now in total, were running across
the yard toward unlucky number thirteen. They looked rather ridiculous
because the heavy early morning dew on the grass had soaked their clothes as
they dropped and rolled and their usually billowing baggy outfits now wet,
were clinging to their arms and legs making their orange hair and red noses
look even more out of place. I was amazed that only one had lost his red
nose in the drop.

As they stood under the tree arguing excitedly about how to get their
friend, hanging pantless about 30 feet off the ground with scratched and
bleeding bare legs, down from the tree with out further harm the fire truck
arrived. Now I have to admit I half expected midget fireman to jump out of
the cab and run around the truck bumping into each other; but these were
full-sized professionals, Jamestown's finest, and set to work with purpose
that made you think getting a naked clown hanging from a parachute out of a
tree was something they practiced every week."

...

FUCKING CLOWNS! Have your dad get a hive of bees; mine are now trained to attack clowns on sight.

One bad thing though...my neighbor had a party for his kid and they had a clown...the lawsuit cost me my DB9.

Is this a dream he is describing or is he writing an evil children's book? Either way, I like his style of writing!

your dad is awesome! i'm guessing this is in response to your email telling him to do Nanowrimo?

Apparently.

I think I should have never mentioned it.

None of you understand that this really took place...Clowns are indeed training to start an insurrection.

Sean Hannity said that the clowns are a secret extension of President Obama's (he used a different term) new world order.

I wonder what Freud would say about a clown from the heavens with his pants around his ankles grabbing some wood while your mom tels the dog "It's OK". What exactly is he taking a round-a-bout way to tell you?

Then there's your dad's use of the word "conscientiousness" in that context. Diabolical, I say.