Behold, I Am Flip Flop, Destroyer Of Worlds.

Behold, I Am Flip Flop, Destroyer Of Worlds.

This is the way the world ends. Not with a bang but with a thwap thwap.

Once a harmless accessory, flip flops rose to prominence with beachlovers, jam band enthusiasts, and drunken adults that lacked the dexterity to put on their shoes.

Now, the flip flop has shuffled its way into acceptable everyday attire. These foam monstrosities can be seen shambling along grocery store aisles, casually exposing feet at neighborhood cookouts (where people are expected to eat), and even interloping at theater and theatre events.  

This is unacceptable. 

Flip flops are perfect when nothing is expected of you. In fact, they embody a "don't expect anything from me" attitude. 

You're on a beach - PERFECT

You're listening to wandering music that never seems to end - GET COMFORTABLE. 

But what happens when the "don't expect anything from me" accessory dominates footwear? We are doomed. We are all doomed.

Here's a statistic: Right now, 64% of people wearing flip flops don't want to be bothered. Especially if it requires physical exertion or putting down their bongos and microbrew. 

I don't have the exact science on that, but dammit, it feels true. 

Need a hand changing a tire? How about help saving a kitten from a tree? What about rallying the last vestiges of human race to fight an intergalactic invasion?

That's not open toed work!

So I'm calling upon every reader to reject the proliferation of this treacherous thwapping villain hewn from rubber, foam, and sulphur.

Not only will you be saving civilization - but our appetites as well. 
















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