Oompa Loompa's Are Evil

This goes on the list of reasons why I am "unAmerican". I cannot stand the movie "Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory." I watched it as a child and despite the icky feelings that it gave me inside my tummy, I kept watching. Because every other kid thought it was the best fucking movie, ever. I couldn’t admit to being the only one who was frightened by the little orange men with green hair and striped overalls. Or Willy Wonka himself, for that matter. Who on earth is scared of Willy Wonka?? I still thought that Mary Poppins was the bomb. How big of a loser was I?? The other kids will have a field day with a pussy like me. So I kept my feelings to myself. I sat on them, let them stir inside, while they preyed on me in my dreams at night, causing more and more anxiety towards the movie. Not only does the movie cause me anxiety but Gene Wilder, in anything, makes my stomach churn a little.

It wasn’t just the Oompa Loompas or Willy Wonka himself, that reeked such havoc in my childhood psyche, mind you. It was also the grandparents who couldn’t leave the bed, the boy who drowns in the chocolate river, and the freaking girl who blows up into a blueberry! I really worried about their futures, how would they survive (or did they survive) their situations.

“All 4 of those people have to share that bed?? What happens when they have to go potty?? What do they do?? What if one of them dies?? Are they just going to leave them in the bed??”
"Oh no, that boy drowned!! His parents are going to be so sad! I wonder if he has brothers or sisters, they’re going to be really sad too. He'll never get to go to college or get married!!"
"OMG, she turned into a blueberry!! How will she ever learn to drive a car like that?? Will her parents have to get a bigger bed for her?? What if they can’t afford a new bed??"

Those thoughts ran continuously through my mind. All night long. To the tune of the Oompa Loompa song.

When I was about 16, I grew tired of silent torment. I spoke out against this dreaded movie. And just like I suspected, I have suffered endless ridicule ever since. My family members hum the tune at the dinner table. They say things like “The Oompa Loompas are going to GET you” and “be careful, you might turn into a big blueberry, just like that other naughty little girl”.

But now, at the age of 29, I finally have some relief. Thanks to the worlds funniest fashion blog, I can finally rest. The song now has a different face attached. One that’s uglier (fuglier, rather) than the one’s in my nightmare. Thank you, GFY. Thank you, from the bottom of my heart.