Crocs of s***!

I’d be lying if I claimed to be shedding anything other than crocodile tears over reports that Crocs - purveyors of lumpen plastic footwear to mankind and George W Bush - is struggling in the jaws of recession; the US manufacturer’s share price is down a staggering 90% at around $3.50. Frankly, I’d rather inject an artery with quick-dry cement and risk a fatal clogging than wear these less-than-killer clogs. ‘Clogs’ - the very name conjures up images of naff 1970s prog-rockers and sturdy Dutch lesbians clomping around dam and dyke. ‘But they come in such cute shades.’ Really? Because Technicolor Smurf is a good look? Comfy? Try Gucci loafers! Driving up the autoroute from Marseilles, I thought the citizens of one Provençal town had seen sense and barred them. Orange: Fermé aux Crocs proclaimed a banner. A closer inspection revealed some wag had added the acute accent to a sign for a local wildlife park