Shit Clowns We've Met Abroad

NO.1: BETJE AND EDDA – AMSTERDAM 2003

WHO ARE THEY? Two middle-aged girl clowns we met during a quiet thirty-man weekend in Amsterdam at the height of summer. We were outside a pub, they were wandering about promoting some show they were in.

WHAT SORT OF SHOW? Probably involved them inserting rotting fruit into each other while the ringmaster pizzled on them both from the high-wire. Amsterdam you see.

WHAT’S THEIR PROBLEM? Fucking schizos, the pair of them. Happy to come and talk to us and sign autographs, the atmosphere quickly turned sour as we tried to teach them a joke about bees, convinced it would enhance their standing as clowns.

DID THEY GET IT? No. They spoke no English. So we tried to explain the mechanics of the joke to them in a kind of pan-European bundeslanguage. ‘He doesn’t like bees! Understand?? Ich nichten lichten bees!!!!’. At this point they got angry and stormed off. In their big flapping shoes. One of them seemed to be crying.

DID THE MISERABLE CLOWNS HAVE ANY MAGICAL POWERS? Maybe. Just after they’d gone, the second hand of one bloke’s watch started whirring backwards at high speed.

THE BEEKEEPER JOKE:

Two beekeepers are having a drink at a beekeeping convention. The first one says ‘So, how many bees do you keep then?’
The second beekeeper replies ‘Actually, I have 50,000 bees in 10 hives.’
‘Oh, that's very impressive, good work.’
‘How many bees do you keep then?’ says the second beekeeper.
‘I have 500,000 bees.’
‘Jesus, that's a lot of bees! You must have a lot of hives.’
‘Nah, just the one.’
‘What? 500,000 bees? All in one hive? Isn’t that a bit cruel?’
‘Yeah... but fuck 'em.’