**WAS I the ASSHOLE for LAUGHING at DEREK HOUGH’S LATEST INSTAGRAM POST? (TL;DR at BOTTOM)**

WAS I THE ASSHOLE FOR LAUGHING AT DEREK HOUGH’S LATEST INSTAGRAM POST? (TL;DR AT BOTTOM)

Okay, so I’m (F, 28, professional couch ornament) scrolling through the algorithm’s daily offering of “content” and I see Derek Hough’s latest video. You know the one. Dude is literally doing a choreographed routine to the sound of his own tears hitting a hardwood floor while explaining that “true artistry requires you to bleed on the mirror.”

AITA for commenting “Sir, this is a Wendy’s, we don’t have a mirror, we have a receipt printer that’s jammed”?

Because apparently, the Hough hive swarmed me. I’ve got 47 replies calling me a “hater with no rhythm” and one DM that just says “JULIANNE WOULD NEVER.” (Which, okay, fair, she would probably rehearse the burn first.)

I’m not saying he isn’t talented—the man can tap dance on a moving train while harmonizing with a seagull. I’m saying the guy posted a video of himself crying into a kale smoothie, captioning it “Every master was once a disaster.” My guy, you are a three-time Emmy winner. You have a DWTS mirrorball tattoo. The disaster is the economy, not your latest paso doble.

Am I the asshole for thinking that if someone literally sweats glitter, maybe they’re not allowed to be this dramatic? Or is the real crime that he’s doing all this while Mark Ballas is offstage somewhere playing a sad acoustic version of “Hips Don’t Lie”?

TL;DR: Derek Hough posted a crying selfie calling himself a disaster. I called him out for being a theater kid who peaked in 2012. His fans want to do a lift