Dooce, eat your heart out.

For the past few weeks, I've been trying to understand what all the fuss is about crocs. I'm going to say it. I absolutely hate them. I think they're ugly and unfashionable. I learned to accept Uggs. I won't ever accept these monstrosities. I can't see the appeal in wearing rubber with holes. Even still, I can't understand accessorizing said holes. It's one thing for an adult to wear them, but to buy them for your children? Why, why would you do that to them?

Last Sunday at the theatre we were hit with a whole slew of people coming into the lobby. Whole families wearing these ugly clog pass-offs. I see kids coming into the daycare wearing them. Tonight while babysitting I was tortured at the sight of them. It's not enough that they throw me into the throngs of what can only be described as a suburban nightmare, with all the neighbours out with their kids, standing around chatting, sprinklers watering their lawns; the father of the kids I looked after was wearing a pair, and three of the neighbours kids were wearing them. It seemed like I can't escape them.

I'm officially in croc hell.

I don't see the light at the end of the tunnel. Nor to I believe one even exists. And HONESTLY. One pair is enough. And if you're lame enough to buy two pairs, why would you wear ONE OF EACH COLOR?! While at work last week, I declared war in saying I was going to go to a t-shirt making store, and make my own t-shirt that says, "crocs are not cool" or "crocs are not cool (and therefore, neither are you)". Over at www.dooce.com there is a long-going war between her and her husband about his like of these. Quite frankly, I'm on Heather's side. The crocs have got to go.