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Duckface, Eating Clean And Bikini Profilers: 8 Things Everyone Hates About Huns

I want to start things off by saying that I don't hate Huns. Hate, after all, is a very strong word. I reserve the word hate for early mornings, loud eaters and people who stink up public transport. Huns...well Huns are more along the lines of people I tolerate, but a lot of the time, find hard to be around. In case you're wondering what exactly a 'Hun' is, then fear not, because you probably have at least eight of these mythical creatures clogging up your newsfeed at any one given time. The Hun is usually dark mahogany in colour. She has hair so strikingly perfect that it appears as though she lives in the hairdressers. She weighs roughly the same as a fat man's left wrist and believes that by clean eating (bleugh), everyone can achieve what she has. Still not convinced? Here are 8 things everyone hates about Huns.

1) The mere fact that they look airbrushed at 7.30am EVERY day.

Who the hell has the time or motivation to do the kind of prep required to look like a Hun, every single morning? Huns aside, obviously. I gladly sacrifice looking less like shit for sleep day after day and look at me. Actually, don't. I look like complete shit. I am, however, usually quite rested. While most of us consider a morning where we manage to get pants on a success, if the Hun doesn't represent a lingerie model on her way to the catwalk, then the entire day isn't worth taking on. Fail.

2) Their presence makes you feel like a far lesser being in general.

Their unattainable, frankly frightening levels of hotness aren't the best boosters of self-confidence in anyone outside of their unpenetrable circles of hun-ness. If you're not at least 6ft, 6 stone with (somehow) double Ds and have extensions tickling your arse cheeks, then turn around, run away and never, ever come back. You're just not welcome in this club of exclusivity and glamour and their heavily made-up eyes will tell you this. If you look carefully you'll glimpse pity with a hint of sorrow in there somewhere.

3) They consistently smell like a stale biscuit and it's just too much.

Seeing a Hun without her fake tan is like seeing a bald cat and wondering why you're looking at a bald cat. It makes no sense. There aren't any sane explanations here. The Hun in this case, will apologise for casting her pale, un-streaked skin upon you, cheeks blushing, mortification apparent. She doesn't quite know how, but somehow, she ran out of her very own version of oxygen. Don't look her in the eye, she may cry.

4) The fact that all they seem to do all day is take pictures (of themselves.) Helfies, if you will.

We have eyes. We can see that you're immensely hot. There is literally NO need for you to inform us of this fact by splattering our social media accounts with hundreds of picture of you pulling the same pose over and over again. We get it. You get it. Every single man gets it. You're hot. Duckface, pouting, no makeup, mountains of make up, from above, filter, no filter, softly lit, bikini shots and yet another selfie. #stop

5) The fact that their boyfriend is apparently not another slightly advanced monkey saddens us.

No offence to the boyfriends of everyone who isn't a Hun, but honestly, get your shit together because it looks as though their boyfriends wait hand, foot and fake tan mitt on them. What do you do for us other than support, comfort and engagement in semi-occasional sex? Well? You can be damn sure you wouldn't see the Huns asking their Hunzer why he cropped them from his profiler. Want to know why? Because he would never dream of doing such a thing. That's why. Whipped and proud.

6) Nobody cares how #clean #delicious your lunch is. Really. We don't.

Clean eating can pack its bags and then go fuck itself for all I care. It doesn't matter how many filters you pop over it, a dry piece of chicken and four lettuce leaves are not #yum. Know what's #yum? Cake. I wouldn't say no to some pictures of cake. But salad? Get real Huns. And also please stop infiltrating my Instagram with your one meal a day. That ship has long since sailed.

7) Your constant need for attention is a little transparent by now.

The Hun treats the world around her like a runway. If she isn't strutting down it wearing sunglasses bigger than her head, pouting at postmen and holding her head up so high that she's in danger of a neck creak, then it just isn't a Hun day worth living. When not out in public resisting the urge to twirl for applause, the Hun updates her social media with the type of cryptic statuses that encourage people wanting to get into either her pants or phonebook to ask her 'what's up Hun', to congratulate her for losing weight with 'well done Hun' and basically any other Hun related puns. Huns expect nothing less than a couple of hundred likes on each and every picture they put up, so hit like immediately you minions.

8) Clearly nobody's life is that great, so stop lying to us all.

Life must be so much easier when you're hot. Everyone wants to be you or be with you and people will be much more willing to go out of their way to please you. That being said though, could all you Huns just stop pretending to be constantly ecstatic with life. It's a Monday morning and nobody wants to see your stolen motivational Instagram quotes. Nobody wants to hear about your romantic, healthy weekend away. If, every now and then, you could just admit to hating life as much as the rest of us mere mortals, then perhaps we'd like you even more. Just a thought....

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Sinead enjoys nothing more than taking short country strolls, watching upper class crime thrillers and planning her next romantic gesture. A true romantic at heart, she spends 364 days of the year counting down until the next February 14th.