Well here they are folks, the Tevas of the twenty-first century, Crocs. I was totally unaware that these things existed outside the hospital operating room until my recent trip to Disneyland, which I now considered the gayest place on earth.
It was my fashion forward girlfriend who brought the spectacle to my attention yesterday upon entrance to the park. She questioned, "How could any parent in their right mind force their children to wear such awful shoes and subject them to such embarassment?" This is when I began to take notice of the massive quantity of people at Disneyland that come from the places that we fly over between L.A. and New York, who woulda thunk it. It was like watching the carnage of a car accident. It was ugly, one of the worst things you will see, but you can't look away. What is even worse is that Disney caters to these sea cows by making Crocs with Mickey head-shaped holes. I had become obsessed with how many people I could find wearing these abortions. Rather than let it ruin our day we decided that the best thing to do was have a competition. It went something like this:
1 point for a pair of crocs
2 points for crocs that were adorned with some sort of trinket or bedazzled. They actually have crap you can put in the holes of the crocs, although I would rather put the crocs in the holes that wear them.
3 points for colored crocs. These are the crocs with sundry tacky objects painted on them. We saw flowers, family crests, nick-names, and I even saw a poor young girl whose crocs had been vomitted on by Rainbow Bright.
4 points for crocs with socks, think flip flops or Tevas with socks, only about %20-35% more lame.
5 points awarded for what we liked to call a croc crew, consisting of no less than 3 people. Which was a point of contention between Jess and I because I insisted that it would take 6 individuals to make a crew, as I only count people who where crocs as 1/2 of a person. These are the same type of people you see at an amusement park like this wearing the same Mickey or Disney sweater with fanny packs and keys hung from shoelaces around their necks. God knows they have massive surpluses of shoe laces in their double-wides since they aren't being used to tie a normal pair of shoes.
So here's the game. The person with the most points accumulated before vomiting wins a poke in the eye with a sharp stick. One can also play a variation where every 50 points accumulated entitles the person to a drink of their choosing, on the other athlete(s) who are playing the game. It's the only thing that makes these people tolerable.
These people even have a website called crocfans.com!!!! Do you know why I know this? You guessed it, someone had it printed on a pair of their crocs. That's almost as sweet as my tatoo. So go check it out if you dare, just don't let anybody you care about (boyfriend/girlfriend/husband/wife/family/friends) catch you checking out the website. If they do catch you and seem interested in crocs, make sure that you break up, divorce, disown, or disinherit them for said crime.
