If your particular phobia is that of scary clowns (coulrophobia) then I urge you to back away from your computer or mobile phone and run, very quickly, the other way, because JESUS GOD: Madonna dressed up as a vintage British clown and riding around on a baby’s tricycle is marginally more terrifying than the guy who skulked in the gutters from Stephen King’s It.
And, as with most scary clowns, the qualities that are meant to make the clown light-hearted and whimsical are in fact what render the clown the deepest of horrors: the way her funhouse-striped legs amble over the vehicle, crunched up into bows to reach the too-short pedals; the way her top hat tilts to one side over a hot-pink wig that makes her pancake make-upped complexion look not wacky and funky but pasty and full of death; and scariest of all, the way her grill gleams under the stage light, not an accessory on a cool and with-it mom but instead a set of chompers sharpened to devour the flesh.
Do not get it twisted: this is my hell, even after she topples the trike, a mistake that a professional scary clown would never make. Madonna, why must you do this to us? All we have ever given you is our love (and money)! And you turn around and respond with a LIVING NIGHTMARE!
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Still here. Still without airbrushing. Still with teeth.
