The Selfie World Championships 2015 hit London this weekend, dragging us deeper into devolution and one step closer to a long-overdue apocalypse
It’s about as inevitable as it is soul-crushingly despairing. This weekend saw the ‘Selfie World Championships 2015’ descend on Shoreditch – yes, of course it was Shoreditch, the beating bosom of human devolution, where a witty insight is as rare as a beard trimmer. Anyone could enter the Selfie World Championships and the prize was a grand in cash (which would no doubt be instantly blown on corduroys and a single bowl of SugarNukeF*ckBombs at the Cereal Cafe), along with a trophy in the shape of a golden selfie stick.
Already I can feel the urge to hurl myself off Blackfriars Bridge rising. But dial down those suicidal tendencies for now, because we haven’t even looked at the different rounds yet.
‘Pout’ and ‘mirror’ need no explanation (unless your IQ is low enough to actually take part), while ‘shark bait’ – where participants pose in front of a fake Great White – is possibly the biggest tease since Katie Hopkins promised she’d f*ck off if Labour were elected. Then there’s the ‘celebrity’ round where you get to pose with a cardboard Harry Styles, who proved more personable and charming than the real thing.
Selfies are inherently evil, that’s a fact that no one can deny. They’re so wicked that they’ve been banned from Disneyland. Hell, selfies are even racist these days. Should we be celebrating them? Nope, we should clobber these mouth breathers with their own selfie sticks before sprinting into the sea and vanishing before Adele has the chance to release another single.
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