I Went To Clown School And Found Unhappiness

I went to clown school and found unhappiness.
I went to clown school to perhaps set free an inner voice.
I emerged a mime. After 15 years I emerge with an alternative persona, which I inhabit almost daily, unhappily and almost without pity.
A primitive ceremony by a primitive technician Lurk is spiteful, cruel, untrustworthy, deceitful, completely silent and hilarious.

The ultimate niche marketing.
I hide behind corners and submit pedestrians to indignities. Its my premise of choice. Richly comic as I am a clown. A rare clown as my character "Lurk" Is deeply unhappy, massively resentful, wholeheartedly selfish and thoroughly dissatisfied with himself, his audience, passers by and life itself.
I am still shocked and intrigued by the content of my show. On paper my interactions could be judged cruel, abusive, sociopathic, disturbed. I, after all simulate strangling the public for a living. I also unsexually (as only a clown could) push old ladies faces into my crotch.
Still we keep coming back to Richly comic as I am a clown.
"Watching my show is like sitting on a crate of beer near an icy corner, watching car after car creep around, lose control, and slide slowly off the road or into the car that has crashed before it."