Wednesday, October 05, 2005


I got all excited about getting a response to an article I submitted via e-mail because I've done this before, to the same rag, and got no reply - not even an automated one. So I figured the news could only be good.

Not the case.

Oh, well. I have grown to loathe them, anyway. What kind of self-respecting female reads women's magazines? They make us want to buy things we don't need. They make me feel like an aging, smelly, unhip narwhal who needs an emergency fluke lift, blubber Botox, and forcible exfoliation with painfully overpriced LancĂ´me products. I only riffle through theirs because it comes free to my work and nobody else reads it.

I yak on their trashy publication. My cats use it to line their shitbox; even Zippy's geriatric diarrhea drippings are too good for the likes of them.

They are so self-involved, just like real women I hate. They run articles about themselves all the time. Who the fuck cares that their fat editor got engaged? Not I, said the brown cow.

Even worse are the articles they run about celebutantes. Why do I need to see a picture of Jessica Alba looking down her petite hog-nose at me, looking smug? Do I really need to hear a 21 year-old expound about life? I think not. I would rather pick up Modern Maturity, and read about people who've had full, interesting lives, and some real wisdom, for crissakes. Also, they've had a buttload more sex than young Hog Nose. What does she know, anyway? Not a whole lot.

Sorry, just a little bitter today. I wonder if they rejected me on the basis of my age alone...? Why else would they ask for your age to be included in the subject line? I think they don't run anything by anyone over 30. I'll bet you cheese.

Oh, and if happen to be the proud owner of an elderly penis experiencing its first semi-flaccid twitchings of mid-life crisis, please stop sending me pictures of your 22 yr. old girlfriend. This isn't helping.

Pisser, Hellaoldassedcrapwriters, Anonymous


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