I remember I once recieved a doll for christmas. It was a clown doll-- porcelain face, bean bag body. Its face more closely resembled that of a mime's than that of a normal clown's.
Maybe it was supposed to be a harlequin.
For being a clown, it was very pretty. And the fact that it had a face made of porcelain-- and that I was trusted to not break it-- really made an impression on me.

It smelled weird.
It was a good weird, though.
Kind of tea-ish.
Then again, maybe that was my mom's pillow. It had beans in it, and smelled like tea.

At any rate, it was a clown doll.
I named it Porcelain, and carried it around with me for weeks.
Then lost it.
Then found it again a few months later, and continued with the toting around.

Then I lost it again.
And I think I found it again, several months later.

Then I lost it again, and I didn't find it for a few years.
Upon finding it, I was a little scared. Something along the lines of "oh man. A clown. A clown."

The fact that Porcelain had been a clown all along? I hadn't noticed.
Well, no, I think I noticed. But deemed it to not really be a clown. How could it be a clown? It was my weird-smelling doll. And I loved it, and pretended it was a baby.
And I couldn't have a clownbaby.

I lost it again.
It's been lost for a while, now.
Now I really want to find it. It and Dmik. (Yes, Dmik. Or was it Dimik? I think it was Dmik.)

No, no real point to this. I was just going through stock images, and noticed an image of a clown doll that vaguely-- very vaguely-- resembled that doll. Upon viewing a larger version of the image, I find that the doll in question is sporking creepy.
Man. And its eyes are right above the notepad I'm writing this in.
Creepy.
And that's about it.
Now I'm off to bed. Flu shots on the morrow.
(On the morrow? What's with me tonight?)