Crocs = The Devil

I apologize to the two people who read this. I've recently been busy trying to become a functional member of society, and it's going. . . well. I'll be a real boy soon.

I keep getting emails from Amazon offering free shipping on Crocs. No. Do not want. Did not want when I first saw them and do not want now. Or ever. There is no offer so fantastic that could sway me. They could be made of Star Jones' excess skin, and I'd still pass them up, even though I could glean some of her DNA in the hopes that one day I could clone her, raise her as an assassin, make her hate her previous incarnation, and carry out my ultimate revenge. She knows what she did.

They're recyclable or something? If you want to buy yourself a piece of trashy pretension, go ahead, but do yourself a favor: do not wear them in public. Crocs, like pajamas and sweatpants, should be worn in the home only. Don't let them trick you with Uggs-style Crocs, or (JESUS) men's leather Crocs. They are to be a secret shame. Your filthy indulgence should be generally hidden from the world, much like your masturbatory habits. You can feel terrible after wearing them and swear you'll never do it again, but you'll soon find yourself staring at your closet where you've hidden them. "Just for the morning," you'll tell yourself. But they feel so great, it's like walking on a sea of boneless puppies. You could walk on lava and not know it. You'll wander outside in a trance-like state because you can't let this slice of heaven that is walking in Crocs go to waste in your home. You can't feel the bum's hand you crushed as you stepped down your stoop. Even the bumpy sharp terrain of the ruined but busy street outside your residence caresses your feet. You close your eyes to let the pedigasms happen, and BOOM! You're fucking dead. The driver of the truck that split open daydreaming head and ruptured all your internal organs was wearing Crocs, and he was so caught up in the rapture encasing his feet that he forgot to brake. Forget swine flu, forget nuclear war, forget gay people: Crocs are the Armageddon. They're going to kill everyone. All that will be left of this planet is the smell of brimstone and antimicrobial croslite.