Just as it is that every time a bell rings, an angel gets its wings, so it is that every time a “man” wears flip flops in public, the earth becomes just a little bit ickier. Of course, it’s one thing for a being claiming to have a penis to wear flip flops in a confined, private space (presumably not his own home due to the fact that “men” never have their own homes). But to take that sanctity of the private space in question and try to translate it into the public realm is not only gauche, but also, quite simply, an overt affront to one’s fellow “man” (since we all know “men” aren’t motivated in any way to impress or cater to their fellow woman, but then, why would they be if she’s saying shit like, “Living my best life“).
Plus, whenever he walks through the streets with his stench-ridden feet, made all the more stench-ridden from the sweat that comes with the heat of the summer, it most assuredly accelerates global warming by one degree–and is that something we really need all for the sake of his ability to “feel comfortable” in and out of the domicile he doesn’t even pay for? By the same token, if he’s saving all this money on being unkempt, can’t he at least pay a few extra bones (since he has no boner) to, at the bare(foot) minimum, buy a pair of closed-toed shoes so that the rest of us don’t have to bear witness to the atrocity exhibition? Even those rare women who fetishize shrimping can’t get off on an unclean, city grit-endured set of toes.