For the love of Crocs!!

Okay, for people who hate crocs and think they're ugly, I say...walk a mile in my shoes!!

Crocs are the best thing since sliced bread. They make our feet happy, which, in turn, makes us happier in general. You probably hate crocs because you wear uncomfortable shoes that look good but hurt your feet and make you sad and uncomfortable and homicidal. People who need a pair of crocs...hmmm, lets see: Emos, Kim Jong II, Alec Baldwin, Ebenezer Scrooge - just to name a few.

Its time for the liberation of feet! Take off those beautifully designed shoes that turn you into a hater and put on the ugly shoes that will make you a lover. I mean, just the fact that croc wearers wear crocs makes us nicer people. I have never met a mean croc wearer. Maybe wearing ugly shoes just makes us more humble - I don't know.

What I do know - if everyone wore crocs, the world would probably be a nicer place! Maybe not esthetically ('cause let's admit, crocs are clogs meet playdough') but comfortable feet make a more peaceful and happy wearer, and thus, a more peaceful and happy world!

Crocs are the answer. Wear crocs.

Poem - WATER

Water so continual, wet and cold, warm and soft,

Relentlessly moving over the earth.

Water runs on top of a rock, eventually through the rock,

Wearing it down and down and down...

Is it foolish to believe you can escape the death of your dreams?

Are we all just grabbing at straws?

I fear one day I'll meet the child I once was, that she will look in my eyes,

and grieve over the absence of vision, the calloused hopes.

What will I say to her? Will there be any attainment to reassure her of? Or will my only words be, "If I had known, I would have..." done things differently?

Is it possible? Can revelation come to me now before this river becomes a canyon,

before the years wear away at me like water on stone?

Water, so continual, so unceasing, like the passing of the hours, the minutes, the seconds on a clock, challenging my static disposition.

How do I pick up these stones, so heavy and black, carrying the weight of my unfinished life? How do I become the water?

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Oh little girl, innocent child...I don't know what to tell you.

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