Clubclowner

Noun. (Vb- Clubclowning, to Clubclown) A Clubclowner is, by definition, an incessantly obnoxious bitch or he-bitch whose entire life revolves around loitering and whoring around clubs their family either owns or knows the owner of, projecting an overtly pungent and particular aroma of hipster desperation and obvious desired importance- particularly in the Southern Californian and (visiting) Las Vegas area. This specific species and/or variety of douchebag is easily spotted, even when far away from their natural habitat, and you are never surprised because you "sooo called it" back in High School. They tend to run in packs and have random pictures of B and C-List celebrities on their social networking sites sans caption or print of name, as they wish to make the encounter look like a frequent occurrence. "Wannabe clubclowners" also exist, and are far more prevalent on any scene- and although outright rejected by the actual packs of CC's and left to die, they are even easier to identify both visually and using one's olfactory senses. If one grew up in Los Angeles and went to private school, they are most probably surrounded by Clubclowners and wannabe CC's which can induce headaches, nausea, vomiting, and possibly thoughts of suicide. Therapy and psycho-pharmaceuticals are recommended in such cases.

"Wow. Look at Danny- god, what a predominant douche! I cannot even fathom that we were ever friends. Look at him, sitting in VIP, with an expression on his face like he's stuck on a tour of the Museum of Tolerance, sipping on some new gastro-drink like it's mother's milk (albeit 'boring' mother's milk that he 'discovered yearssss ago') and wearing the same hipster Johnny Depp-circa 90's outfit he's been posing in for two weeks straight with a scarf, three-week 'I don't give a fuck bitches (but really do- ever so much!)' scruff, cigarette stains on his nails and grease in his 'Robert-Pattinson-totally-jacked-my-look hair', while toting a beat up blackberry equipped with skull case taking 'My entourage and I are indescribably cool and such regulars ‘cuz my Godfather and Dad own the joint and I've been coming here to do lines since I was 7, so I could NEVER, NEVER EVER, possibly be at all excited and/or content to be here, no matter which celebrity I happen to be with. So, yeah…whatever bitches. P.S. I love that you are so jealous that I find this mundane', pictures using those 70's grunge photo apps to add an extra splash of 'Really. I promise you, I seriously don't give a fuck because I'm such a hipster...' that he'll eventually post on Facebook one at a time (as to not give off any impression that it was, in fact, one of the best nights of his life)."
"I know, right?! He is the quintessential DEFINITION of a Clubclowner!"
"You know, I so called this in 7th grade..."

俚语	clubclowner
释义	Clubclowner Noun. (Vb- Clubclowning, to Clubclown) A Clubclowner is, by definition, an incessantly obnoxious bitch or he-bitch whose entire life revolves around loitering and whoring around clubs their family either owns or knows the owner of, projecting an overtly pungent and particular aroma of hipster desperation and obvious desired importance- particularly in the Southern Californian and (visiting) Las Vegas area. This specific species and/or variety of douchebag is easily spotted, even when far away from their natural habitat, and you are never surprised because you "sooo called it" back in High School. They tend to run in packs and have random pictures of B and C-List celebrities on their social networking sites sans caption or print of name, as they wish to make the encounter look like a frequent occurrence. "Wannabe clubclowners" also exist, and are far more prevalent on any scene- and although outright rejected by the actual packs of CC's and left to die, they are even easier to identify both visually and using one's olfactory senses. If one grew up in Los Angeles and went to private school, they are most probably surrounded by Clubclowners and wannabe CC's which can induce headaches, nausea, vomiting, and possibly thoughts of suicide. Therapy and psycho-pharmaceuticals are recommended in such cases. "Wow. Look at Danny- god, what a predominant douche! I cannot even fathom that we were ever friends. Look at him, sitting in VIP, with an expression on his face like he's stuck on a tour of the Museum of Tolerance, sipping on some new gastro-drink like it's mother's milk (albeit 'boring' mother's milk that he 'discovered yearssss ago') and wearing the same hipster Johnny Depp-circa 90's outfit he's been posing in for two weeks straight with a scarf, three-week 'I don't give a fuck bitches (but really do- ever so much!)' scruff, cigarette stains on his nails and grease in his 'Robert-Pattinson-totally-jacked-my-look hair', while toting a beat up blackberry equipped with skull case taking 'My entourage and I are indescribably cool and such regulars ‘cuz my Godfather and Dad own the joint and I've been coming here to do lines since I was 7, so I could NEVER, NEVER EVER, possibly be at all excited and/or content to be here, no matter which celebrity I happen to be with. So, yeah…whatever bitches. P.S. I love that you are so jealous that I find this mundane', pictures using those 70's grunge photo apps to add an extra splash of 'Really. I promise you, I seriously don't give a fuck because I'm such a hipster...' that he'll eventually post on Facebook one at a time (as to not give off any impression that it was, in fact, one of the best nights of his life)." "I know, right?! He is the quintessential DEFINITION of a Clubclowner!" "You know, I so called this in 7th grade..."
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