An open letter to scrunchies 3 years ago

An open letter to scrunchies

We need to talk.

You're vile. There's no beating around the bush. You are literally scum.

The world would be a better place without you. Pandas are slowly becoming extinct and yet you are still here. Lingering.

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My main gripe with you, scrunchie, is that you are appalling to look at. There is just so much of you. I've seen many of your kind, held together with upsetting fabrics such as chord material, linen, cotton and even silk. Why is there so much excess material? Why are you pleated? Why do you come in the most obscene colours such as brown? If the colour brown was a person, it would be Eeyore from Winnie The Pooh because it just exudes sadness and misery.

Your clientele are scum and mostly comprised of Mams, "quirky" girls at festivals, time travelers from the early 90s and that hussy in the 'Blurred Lines' music video. There is no acceptable circumstance during which your presence is anything other than illegal. You make me feel sicker than going backwards on a roller coaster seventeen times after consuming a large amount of Frubes.

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[Image via YouTube]

I'm going to expose you for the shambles that you are, scrunchie. I know your secret. I know what you're hiding. Cut me and I will bleed. Cut a scrunchie and thou shalt inherit the truth. The jig is up, compadre. Your mere existence is built upon a bed of lies and deceit.

Should a dreadful cutting accident ever occur to you, people will see you for what you truly are: A REGULAR BOBBIN IN DISGUISE. I've seen it. My friends have seen it. My family have seen it. You are quite literally mutton dressed as lamb. Your life began just like any other bobbin, until you happened upon notions far superior than your minuscule brain and body could handle.

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[Stunning graphics via Break Your Own News]

Did you watch an episode of The Rose Of Tralee and simple decide that life would be better in a pretty dress? But you couldn't find a pretty dress so you settled on a brown chord fabric? COP ON. Didn't your mother ever teach you that it's what's inside that counts? That's hardly to your advantage though scrunchie, because what's inside you is repulsive.

I wish nothing but the worst for you, scrunchie. I want you to be eradicated from this Earth and all traces of you to evaporate. I want Google search results to return blank when you are searched. I want Google to suggest that the user was searching for 'Crunchie', that's how little I think of you.

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The world will be a better place when you are gone and I will do everything in my power to ensure that my wishes are carried out.

Regards,

Every woman ever x