Manopause: Crocs

Ah, summer. The season when pit stains are as ubiquitous as Starbucks, people let their cellulite-raddled skin out to flap in the breeze, and the opening of an envelope is enough cause for celebration on a patio. It’s also the season that finds many of us with noses curling at the faint scent of musky vinegar emanating from naked toes. Yes, we have to take the good with the bad, and while summer brings us longer days, sunshine as hot as Beelzebub’s bedroom, and men wandering around shirtless and glistening like crystals in a Swarovski display case, it also gives us sweaty asscheeks, the lingering smell of sewage on city streets, and, worst of all, Crocs.

Now I don’t think I’m a fashionisto or anything, but I have something apparently many in this world are lacking: the gift of sight. During these warm months, and particularly the heatwave we’ve been experiencing here in the big smog, Crocs come out and visually assault my retinas, causing me to have dizzy spells, temporary blindness, and, on more than one occasion, to suffer from minor aneurisms.

The Canadian Charter of Rights and Freedoms dictates that it is unethical to create a poisoned environment for others. So why have I been denied access to the Supreme Court to have an official ruling issued on this plight to humanity? Why have I been disconnected any time I call my local police station imploring a SWAT team to be sent to the Eaton Centre to arrest these terrorists who insist on wearing brightly coloured, hideous, immoral gardening footwear?

While I have yet to be delivered a sufficient response, I am nonetheless dumbfounded at the abuse I suffer daily from Crocs. I have sought psychiatric counsel, medical alternatives to repress my disgust, even voodoo rituals to help me cope. Alas, all my efforts have been fruitless and I am left crying almost nightly because my rights as a human being are being infringed upon daily.

So I implore everyone: Rise up against the devils that walk among us. Destroy the demonic Crocs that permeate our society and brainwash humanity. We did not act quickly enough and Crocs mated and gave birth to Baby Crocs; the humanitarian effort to stop children from wearing these abominations has taken many soles. We let Uggs win the war of 2003, and what happened? They bred with Crocs and smote the world with Cruggs. We need to stop this now, for what may come next could be Crockenstocks, or Crophistos.

The battle brewing between mankind and Crocs is about to reach its apex and Toronto may very well be the epicenter of its violence. Convert your loved ones. Help those who have been afflicted by Crocs. Steal their footwear and say a prayer to Chanel the Goddess of Fashion for their soles. Together, we can fight for a future free of Crocs, full of beauty.