Since serving their purpose as slapstick-y nonsense henchmen in Despicable Me, they have become as common as Drake lyrics in our cultural lexicon, giving them an eerie omnipresence in our day-to-day lives. Unless you’ve been living in Reverend Richard Wayne Gary Wayne’s bunker, you know about our country’s current obsession with Minions. Honestly, this had less to do with my leadership or persuasive charm – all I did was make a Facebook event with a vaguely rousing event description – than with the mystical allure of the Minions. We even managed to convince a girl who we had affectionately nicknamed “Toilet F**k” (the origins of which I neither have the desire nor the space to explain here) at a Halloween party the night before, to come along with us.
SAD MINION COSPLAY FULL
To further humiliate himself, one friend bought a women’s version knowing full well that there were plenty of men’s sizes still available. Many of them bought their costumes weeks in advance of the actual event. Really, the eagerness with which these people were willing to dress up like Minions for the sake of one man’s shameful hipster ironism cannot be overstated.
If anything, we shouldn’t be in awe of myself, but of my group of friends, whose willingness to participate in something so incredibly stupid is astounding – and frankly – pretty embarrassing. I did, however, manage to make a group of 25 people commit a form of social suicide by doing the most detestable thing they could possibly do on Halloween in 2015: dress like a Minion at the nationally televised Florida State-Syracuse game in a football stadium surrounded by their peers.Īdmittedly, this feat is wildly unimpressive in comparison to those of my aforementioned cult leader role model. This past Saturday, I discovered what it must’ve felt like to be Charles Manson.ĭisclaimer, no, I didn’t have a psychotic break, start scatting in a courtroom or make a group of gullible people kill themselves.
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