Every day for the last week, we've gotten off the train at North Station to the intoxicating fragrence of elephant poop. This can only mean one thing...

The circus is in town.

And that means clowns. Clowns are scary. Now that the sun sets earlier and earlier, it means commuting home after nightfall. Who knows what painted devils might be lurking in the dark alleys around the Fleet Center, just waiting for the opportunity to leap out and juggle? Creepy bastards.

I'm less spooked out by the witches that hang out by the Salem depot.