Shingleberry, who measures culture by the symmetric perfection of an Instagram model's feed, treasures his tranquil pursuit of poolside perving. But it seems life has rudely served him a banana peel. His usually unimpeded voyeuristic journey is increasingly marred by vibrant showcases of — dare it be said — real-life experiences.
Engagement rings glisten, wedding pictures provoke nausea, family photos pop up like uncalled-for advertisements, and baby bumps bounce into view. The nerve of these women, living their lives in full view, oblivious to the turmoil they're causing Shingleberry!
In full revolt, Shingleberry—armed with a bullhorn and brandishing a sign made out of cardboard and an apparent disregard for graphic design—has taken to shaking his fist at these massive feeds. His sign wails, 'Keep Bikini Stalking Pure!'. It's a valiant plea for a return to simpler times when women posted pictures, gents ogled, and no one dared bring real life into it.
The rich irony, clearly lost on Shingleberry, seems as apparent as a lip-syncing in a boy band video. In his almighty quest for the freedom to freely feast his eyes on untouched images of bikini-clad bodies, he fails to realize that the subjects of his gaze hold a mutual right - to be fully-rounded individuals, living and posting their lives, sans protective filters.
As Shingleberry rebukes non-compliant models, Instagramsville has become a theater of the absurd, putting on display the struggle of an ogler aspiring to innocence. As residents adjust their filters and go about their lives, the world secretly applauds the entertainment, though also grateful for not being part of the Instagramsville populace.