Bagel wars!!!

OK so If you don't know, I started a non profit organization callad "Bagels for Seagulls" it allowed Will Workforf Ood and I to go to a popular breakfast place and take hundreds of bagels for re-distribution (Thank you Orian!).
It just so happened that "pick up day" was really close to "show day" (the day before actually, how did that happen)?"
They were still good so I kept a bag or too for us and loaded the rest on the trailor.
During the night someone took a bunch of them but thats cool, it's what it's all about.

All our stuff was scattered all over Portland and I didn't exactly know who was even in my show.
Ood and I gathered as much as we could show day and rode to Alberta street.
We were late and falling apart, Will had to leave with only the black and white parts of his face and I didn't make up at all.
Funny about the "no make up thing", the whole day people called me "clown" or "Dingo" or both, they knew Will Workforf Ood too, in that place we didn't need make up.

Sprout started the show and did better than Iv'e ever seen, she was funny, she danced and had a snake.
We did as much of the show as we could when Doc appeared with the "Baby Battle Bikes".
When the showdown between bikes started I passed out the garbage bag of bagels to the crowd.
We had a nurse there just in case of an emergency but all she had was a giant needle and some rope I think.
We had an elf too, he faught a stack of bagels and won pretty soundly.
During the match I looked around after getting creamed in the back of the head with bread and found the whole block filled with flying bagels.
If the crowd wasn't into our show before they sure were then, it was amazing what we created.

I had been thinking about how to kill off my character and wondering what would come out in Dingo's place.
The Dingo hat is battered and smashed, a lot of the hardwear has fallen off in gladiator battles and clowning.
I have lots of injuries and my brain is fried from torment, hard to keep a smile even if one is painted on.
The crew have all fallen away and moved on, Dingo needs the team, without them it's just a couple of clowns on the street.
My clothes are falling off (that's Will's thing not mine) the whole character has been to hell and back, he needs to be someone else or get a vacation from the reality.


I don't need makeup to be recognized, thats a great reason to keep Dingo alive but I'm not that guy anymore.
I almost thought I was, when I got into the parade it was magic, Dingo the clown LOVES a parades and we were behind the drum corps, it's fun to dance with a tall bike. Kids are amazed to see me defying gravity sometimes coming to a dead stop and hovering in mid air for as long as I want.
We did the 20 or so blocks and it was amazing, one problem, as I looked around I spotted My children being babysat, Cafffeine doing some kind of act, It was unclear what she was doing but she loked and sounded nice and Bonaroo sporting a Viking Helmet and looking great I got weak in the knees.
Dingo loves to be with those folks, ?

I have a killer pad and great friends, low rent and no awful ideas knocking my good ones off the map or screaming making me lose concentration, yet still my body thinks I will eventually get to go home...it's stupid to think you can ever go home.
As I was leaving I hugged my boy, the little girl didn't know how to relate to "Dad the fallen angel" so she politely ignored me the way I taught her to ignore strangers.
The battle bikes really tore up my wrists and my emotions were trillerpated I needed at least to be away from Alberta street.
We sold a few shirts and split, I went home and took off the Texican Clown.
Will took off Ood too and we went out rampaging the streets till late, playing music on my bike (Will hooked up a mic to the bike so it's an insterment) we found some other buskers and jammed with them.
We went to the creepy part of Hawthorne (We call it Tenn.)and bombed the hill.
We let tourists take photos with us and I hassled some young kid who looked lost on the corner of 42nd and Hawthorn to stop looking like a victim.
"Im, j,j,just waiting on my r-ride."
I don't blame him, I'm almost 11 feet tall, growling, and it's after midnight, the air was still, I could smell his fear from at least a block away.
I hope someone like me finds my kids if they are ever in that situation, I wanted to stop and show the little dude how to wait for a ride without looking like a victim but i didn't, he was afraid of us.

We met a lady smoking a stogggie on her porch, she was nice enough to let Will and I climb her brick wall and start up the power lines.
We invented a super groovy game high up on the top of a wall where we both inch out to the middle, one guy bends over and the other one kicks him in the ass, if that guy don't fall (one story down) then he gets to try and kick the other guy off.
We did that entirely too long and neither guy got to even score one point.

After there was no more trouble to be had, we went home and smoked the last of my pot.
We made a couple hundred bucks, I saved my share for the kids and Will likes buying weed.
I fell asleep sitting there and at some point Will went to his room.


I never resolved if Dingo lives or dies, I like him, I just dont think he has a home anymore.
I guess I couldn't go far away, I only know cowboy tricks and stunts, what the heck else would I do juggle?
No way, I hate juggling.
Maybe a native character will come out or maybe an animal, I don't know.
If that was the last show for Dingo Dizmal the cowboy clown from Beerstain Texas, I'll take it, it had a bagel war!