A wee rant that'll be in an upcoming Maxim.
The agony of your stanky-ass feet.
Gents, your puppies are ugly. Doesn't matter how much you've
gotten 'em buffed, scrubbed, clipped, shaved, or, Baal help us,
polished at Pierre's House 'o Pedis. Men's feet are ugly buggers,
and no one needs to be seeing 'em in public.
"But...but...but...my pwecious COMFORT!" you're mewling. "You
women get to go all open-toed and be comfortable in the summertime
and..." Heel, boy. Stop right there, and imagine if your
coal-mining, assembly-line-working, trench-digging, cow-milking
grandpappy heard you whining for your right to wear mandals. Yup -
not pretty.
Furthermore, dude, it ain't women who are making up the majority
of foot fetishists. We chicks put up with looking at your nasty
Hobbit hooves AT ALL, just because we don't want shoeprints all
over the sheets or the shower, and your socks are pretty much just
sweat tampons. If we're so avidly grossed out by your pudrid paws,
why must you keep waddling about in fungus-steeped flip-flops and
(I'm puking as I type) Tevas not just at home, but also in eating
establishments, public transportation, and, like, ostensibly
"nice" places?
Stop, seriously. Please. For the children. Well - not like you
have to worry about having any of *those* if you keep showing off
your gnome-like toes. I'm not just posturing here - I actually
refused sex to an ex if he maintained possession of his
Birkinstocks. Sure, I had to stock up on C-cells for about a week,
but down the trash chute they went.
As for your point about we women and our open-toed comfort - ya
ever happened to notice that those open toes are sling mere inches
from a multi-inch stiletto? Or consider that no matter how buoyant
our lovely bazooms might be, we've sometimes gotta cantilever 'em
up? Tell ya what - you spend an entire summer month with
underwires attempting to circuit into your spongy bits, and you
prancing around on your tiptoes and and I *might* lend you your
espadrilles back.