Case details: My Husband vs. Flipflops: (Court of Opinion)

case detail

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2008-09-12

My Husband vs. Flipflops

Case Type:

Style & Taste

Status:

Verdict Reached

Terms:

nine judges or 1 week, whichever comes first
Plaintiff:

FrakYA
Plaintiff's Argument:

My husband and I live in Southern California. I grew up here, and men in flip flops are not only common, but cute. He HATES them and refuses to wear them. So, if he has to go outside, or just cruise out to a casual quick bite to eat, he goes through putting these uglies on. [Please note the ripped areas on shoes]. Is it too much to ask him wear flip flops... not only are they uber handy, but they're beachy cute and I'd like looking at him in them!

I don't expect him to wear them all the time, but occasionally just to appeal to my inner beach girl.
Defendant:

GiggityGoo
Defendant's Argument:

Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, you know me to be a man of simple means, a man who is not given to exaggeration or hyperbole, so you will appreciate the full strength of my statement when I say:

Flip-flops are a Tool Of The Devil.

Moreso than alcohol, moreso than television, moreso than organized sports involving the combustion engine, the seemingly innocuous flip-flop has wormed its way into our American way of life. We have not been threatened with such a potential threat to our liberties and sensibilities since the days of the mumu. Where once we proudly shod our feet with practical footwear that covers and protects, we now flaunt our lackadaisical attitude towards life with these airy, ephemeral shards of foam rubber that only qualify as "shoes" in the most technical of senses. Instead of taking the time to properly encase the foot, we now cram our feet into these hideous travesties before dashing out the door.

The result is an abhorrent assault on the human senses. The "fwap-fwap-fwap" of the sole of the foot against the bacteria-ridden surface of the footwear and the "scuff-scuff-scuff" of the bottom of the flip-flop on concrete belie an organism making the barest minimum effort involved in creating bipedal locomotion. The feet splay outward, the knees jerkily snap, the toes hang over the edge and scrape the ground as the flip-flop-sporter shambles forward, trying desperately not to collapse from apathy. A line of flaky dead skin accumulates along the division between heel and sole of the foot, complementing the thick melange of dirt and rodent fecal matter ground into the bottom of the foot from being exposed to the open environment of today's urban landscape. A thin film of grime accumulates on and sticks to the toes, negating the $50 spent during the morning on a pedicure. What was once a beautiful example of God's craftsmanship - the foot - becomes a filthy stub that mocks the very humanity we treasure so greatly.

I would be remiss in my duties, however, if I did not point out the one useful attribute of flip-flops: when combined with white socks, they instantly identify filthy foreigners. So in this post-9/11 era of barbarian enemies storming the gates of democracy, the sight of one of these picture-snapping "tourists" sporting the sock-and-flip-flop combo is reason enough to call Homeland Security and alert them to bring the big guns. However, as purposeful as this would appear to be, the fact that terrorists all over the globe use flip-flops in their evil uniforms only serves to strengthen my case.

So, ladies and gentlemen of the jury, I put it to you that flip-flops are more than a quick and easy way of completing the sacred "no shirt, no shoes, no service" covenant between the morbidly obese and the fast-food industry, they are a caustic acid eating away at the very moral fabric of our Nation. Remember, that slender thing between your toes, covered with secreted foot oils and scum, connecting the sole of the footwear to the flimsy straps that cover the foot? That's not a plastic peg...

It's Satan.

I thank you for your time.