Here is newly unearthed proof that I am not a liar.  This time.  In my parents’ basement bookcase of years and years worth of incriminating evidence against me, I found photos of my first and only official Circus performance.  The 24 years since have just been three rings of amateur acts, but just as entertaining and clownish nonetheless.

I hate clowns.

Enjoy.

It was an adult size, smallest available. That's the last time I've worn that size, I think. My mother said laughingly something about how I didn't quite fill out the bodice. Um, no.

Christmas, 1984. It was an adult size, smallest available. That's the last time I've worn that size, I think. My mother said laughingly something about how I didn't quite fill out the bodice. Um, no.

The umbrella is something I should bring back to common usage...my balance is crap.

Spring, 1985. Sasquatch. How wide is a balance beam? If you double that, you get my shoe size.

I wasn't too far off with the 300% guesstimate. I hate numbers.

I wasn't too far off with the 300% guesstimate. I hate numbers.

Yo Mama.

Yo Mama.

For the original story behind what I’m not lying about, click here.