It's Oscars time. Somebody wake the Grouch.

Sunday, January 30, 2005

The home life of the mime

It must be terrible to be the spouse of a mime. Imagine this person, walking around all day in the terrible cold in winter, or the sweltering heat of July, caked in makeup Tammy Faye Bakker rejected as "over the top", and unable to say a blessed thing about it.

The average person would walk in the house, gently close the door (after making a show of closing an imaginary door, for the benefit of the neighbors, I suppose) and then begin to swear in a loud voice like Jack Nicholson in "The Last Detail". I expect the frozen and/or runny makeup would only intensify the horrific quality of the event, sort of like having Insane Klown Posse' do a live performance in your home, only in the voice of the person you promised to "love, honor, and cherish" (and "obey" for those of you who didn't write your own vows, wear paisley tuxedos, or get married in the nude at Berkeley).

I expect the average span of a mime's marriage is between 3 to 6 months, depending on whether they get married during a temperate season or not. I should add that for female mimes this would be no different. Most males married to a lady mime would tend to find the thought of their loved one arriving at home covered in exotic clown makeup, and swearing like a mafioso sailor either strangely cute or arousing in a peculiar way. (That could just be me though.) Nonetheless, most women who've spent an entire day in such a condition aren't going to put up with such nonsense. Come to think of it, where female mimes are concerned, there is probably a very high degree of female on male domestic violence.


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