Just when I think I've located all the scary clowns in Florence, Colorado--some more arise to bite me in my antique-loving tush.
I'll forgive this scary clown because at least he's true vintage and surrounded by some pretty rocking vintage goodies.
But I don't have the same slightly warm fuzzy feelings for this dude. He looks vaguely drugged. Is that a horn, or he sucking on a crack pipe?
Now honestly look me in the eye and my bulbous red nose and tell me that this clown does not look like he has a creepy intent and he is stalking the angel.
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