What I hate today… fashion magazines
This is quite a short and specific hate, but I’ve been eating a lot of takeways lately, because I haven’t had an oven for, oh, maybe 5 weeks now? And no bench for at least a week. And not really a clean environment to cut up food. I’m redoing my kitchen in case you haven’t guessed. Never buy a house. Trust me. Just spend all your money on booze and drugs, which will make you impotent and susceptible (fuck that’s a hard word to spell) to an early death and then you won’t need to own Real Estate.
But anyway, I have to eat. Cos I’m a fatty boomsticks. Well, that’s not why I have to eat. It’s something to do with not being Superman. Superman is solar powered you see. That would be freaking AWESOME. Don’t get me wrong – I LOVE food. But I wish I didn’t HAVE to eat it 2 or 3 times a day. If I didn’t have to eat or sleep I would really really enjoy occasionally eating or having a sleep in. That would probably be one of my three-magic-genie-wishes. That and controlling my own personal gravity and speed of time. And shape-shifting. I know that’s four but that last one is so scientifically impossible I would have to keep it in reserve (yes, I know it’s all impossible. It’s irony).
And to try and get back to the point, I end up buying takeaways. And waiting for my food. And reading crappy magazines. And sometimes I pick up a classier magazine for a classier read. And you know what? WHAT THE FUCK IS WITH THESE MAGAZINES???
Here’s where it started. I picked up Bazaar magazine (sorry there is not going to be a pun on that name – it’s too easy) – and tried to find the contents page. You always expect a couple of ads before the contents page, but OMC this was ridiculous. (ok that was a pun. I lied. At least it wasn’t that obvious… if you didn’t get it, don’t worry. Even NZers don’t understand why that is “the biggest selling record ever to be released by an act originating from and recorded in New Zealand”). The first page for the contents was on page 142. One Hundred and Forty-Two!!!11!!! Every page before that was a full-page ad.
And then I realised something. Girls buy fashion magazines for the Ads! So you’re paying for something that the advertisers have already paid for you to see. How FUKCED is that??? And you give us shit about Playboy etc!
Check it out. Next time you open a magazine, find the contents page. If it’s not at the front, then… I don’t know… GRRRRRRR… do something…. bah…. I’m the worst anti-capitalist ever…
Woah, easy boy. Easy. Breathe. Breathe. That’s a good boy. You want a treat? (You’re a self-described “Fatty Boomsticks” so I know you do)
Magazines are gay. I once saw a gay magazine (I think it was called “Mandate”… seriously look it up. It’s a real magazine) and it almost exploded my brain. There was so much gayness, even Elton John would’ve gone “This is really gay”.
And no, I don’t have anything against gay people and their gayness. I love gay people. Not in that way. Grow up, Nikolai. Get back into the kitchen.
Get back in the kitchen?? Get BACK in the KITCHEN?????!!? Is that a taunt??
I don’t have a kitchen. *sniff* I have an empty shell. That reflects the emptyness of my soul. I need some ice-cream. I wonder if you can fix an emo by giving them an ice-cream… or a hug. Hug an emo today…. gaylord.