CANDY VAN

As I walked back to the little slice of heaven I like to call my cubicle, I started to feel uneasy. It hit me out of the blue, almost as though there was some evil lurking near, just waiting to strike when the moment was right. I turned the corner and nearly ran into *GASP* a man with a ponytail. You might be wondering what I have against men with ponytails. Here's the thing: I don't trust 'em. What are you trying to hide in that mound of hair? DO YOU EVEN OWN A BRUSH? WHY IS IT SO SCRAGGLY? WHHYYYYYYY??

As a woman who now enjoys freedom in the form of a pixie cut, I just don't understand the benefit for dudes, especially when it's socially acceptable for you to have short hair!

I'm guessing you probably think it works for you. SPOILER ALERT: it probably doesn't.

 

When bad hair happens to attractive people.

You know who else has a ponytail? The ultimate Disney creeper: Gaston. I mean, his role in that movie was just to be a creep. That chode was just trying to get in Belle's pants the entire time, so it absolutely makes sense the brilliant men and women of Disney pulled those locks into a pony. If for some reason you were robbed of your childhood and haven't seen Beauty and the Beast, just imagine Joey with a ponytail.

 

You know what they say, "Creepers gonna creep."

Searching for men with ponytails on Google brings up feelings across the spectrum. Some stand by me and don't trust them while others worship the neck that pony rests upon. For some reason, this seems to be a common theme:

 

Just.... what?

So, why have I launched into a diatribe against ponytailed men and what does it have to do with the child's game we participate in each Thursday? Teabaggers are, collectively, the men with ponytails of the league. Do any of their dudes rock a pony? No. But I still don't trust 'em. Something about them makes me feel uneasy. Maybe I'm constantly worried that they will unleash their teabagging tyranny upon me and my loved ones. Maybe I just feel like Doug is one pony away from being a Steven Seagal impersonator.

 

Chuck Norris is the reason I wear a ponytail.

I mean, imagine staring at an entire kickball team full of nice people and just seeing THIS:

 

What a lady killer! And I mean an actual murderer.

Or this:

 

Mo' pony, mo' problems.

It's a rough existence. I don't WANT to see you this way, TB, but it's just the way things are.

So now you know that when you approach me, it's a personal struggle for me not to run and hide. Maybe my fear and mistrust of ponytails isn't fair, but I can't help the way I feel. I love you for you, Teabaggers, but not the incredibly sketchy way you style your 'do.

LOVE,
Candy Van