Patosa

Walking with my father the other day, a rather touchy subject came up, or rather I brought it up. In bringing up such a subject, I was hoping to evoke some kind of sympathy in my father ( which now reflecting was a high expectation to begin with, only proving just how desperate I was at the time of said event). Recently, I've been compared to a clown. This pains me deeply. I hate clowns. Beside the revoltingly seedy and offensive aesthetic ( which in itself would justify any contempt towards clowns), I find that clowns are fundamental hypocrites. Perhaps my clothing can border on TOO much at times, or perhaps I trip over my shoes once in a while, but really, am I that clownish? After hearing me out, my father paused thoughtfully, mulling the information over. I prepared myself to be consoled when he then said, " well yes, as the Spanish would say, you're quite the patosa, aren't you?"