I’ll admit it — the TikTok trend hasn’t really reached my house. And it’s not because I hold a PhD in maturity, as some have suggested as the insidious root cause of a lack of TikToking action, but rather, the opposite: as someone who can spend glassy-eyed hours mindlessly scrolling the ‘Gram until I end up with the dopamine drools, I know that if I allow myself yet another timewasting app, I’ll go full Wall-E.
Nonetheless, sometimes the TikTok videos find me (in large part because a determined friend of mine insists on turning our WhatsApp chat into a personally curated gallery of comedy videos, a service she could probably charge for). And then there’s this, which made its way to classique social media — the place where the youth, they doth not hang — and made me giggle my way through a ferocious Equestriad 2001-fuelled hangover. Not an easy prospect, nor, I suppose, something I ought to be admitting here, but we are none of us too big and too noble for a social bubble booze-up, and I have no regrets. (I have a few minor regrets.)
Anyway, this sassy lil TikTok number addresses one of the most common complaints that the non-horsey have about equestrians — the souvenirs we leave behind. And in comedically sweary, devastatingly sarcastic fashion, Hannah Sims offers a functional (?) solution. Honestly, she’s got my vote for Prime Minister.
