Friday, June 15, 2007
Open a letter, open up a can of who gives a crap
Dear Friend that I had to"break up" with a while back:
Today on the news they said that someone had gotten stabbed near or at (the info was vague) where you live. The suspect then set fire to the apartment, for whatever reason.
I immediately thought that the suspect in question had to be you, the incident probably a result of an angry booze and drug-fueled binge. That, or you pissed someone off while in the previously mentioned state and you were, indeed, the victim.
Sorry I assumed it was you, but I still don't want to hang out anymore.
Dear Jane Magazine:
On your cover this month: The words "awesome" and "skanky", the phrase "ways to rock summer", and the promise of "45 hot guys" and "18 life changing concerts".
While I think you are smart, funny, and cute, the fact that your own editor (who looks way older than me) stated that this particular magazine is really just for "20-somethings" tells me that you and I may not be the perfect fit we once were.
Our relationship just isn't working anymore. I think we need to go our separate ways. You can keep the fuzzy animal barrettes and skinny jeans, and I'll take the cheap but cute heels and the travel advice.
We can still be friends, I promise we'll keep in touch. Hell, there may even be a booty call in there somewhere (you are one of my dirty guilty pleasures). I just can't keep going on as we have. You don't appreciate me for who I am, and it's obvious you think I'm getting too old for you.
Maybe I am.
Though, I'm quite sure I have more disposable income than many of your "20-somethings", and I buy clothes & beauty products in mass quantities like a good consumer whore should, and I can bet I easily spend three times the money they do eating out and boozing at bars.
I challenge any of your "target demographic" to a hamburger-eating contest. Let's see who's the superstar then, bitches. Or better yet, a whiskey drinking contest. I have YEARS on your wimpy-assed tolerance, little girls.
it's clear you have moved on. There's nothing I can do except take my pride and go.
I think when the subscription runs out, so does our time together.
Dear newish laptop of mine:
If you don't stop making the cursor jump a(oops, there it goes)round randomly while I'm typing, and if you don't stop ran(shit, again)domly deleting sentences and whole passages,(I am retyping the next items as they were just deleted and I screamed yet again) and if you don't stop refusing to add the letters I KNOW I ty(there we go again)ped...
I will kill you.
At the very least, I think you may be going back from whence you came, or wherever they put bad, untrainable computers like you.
The computer "dog pound", so to speak.
I hope you get put down when you get there, you asshole.
I know that I haven't paid any attention to you in, oh, the last 4 months. And I know it's summer. And I know you look like someone beat you with a hammer. And I know that you have the potential to not look like the feet of someone trapped in a cave filled with sharp rocks and puddles for 10 years.
I know you can be pretty, I just don't care right now.
Maybe tomorrow I will.
Posted by Whiskeymarie at 10:00 AM
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I had to break up with Cosmo. I was already starting to think it was time when I could guess what their *Sex Tips* were before I got to the article. But it was when The Man and the kids moved in that I realized I probably shouldn't have a magazine that said stuff like "HOT SEX" and "Your Sexiest ____" and "Bedroom moves to make him HOT" sitting around.
That was a little depressing, it made me feel a little old. But what makes me feel even older is that I realized last night...I've almost outgrown Parents. NB doesn't even fit in their 'categories' anymore and SS is in the last one. Just. Sad.
Ah! The planets aligned and blogging brilliance was born! I like to use the letters when I'm lazy and random. Which is pretty much all the time. I promis YOU that I have been composing mine in my head since yesterday AM's construction worker sightings.
I have subscribed to Jane since the very first issue with Drew Barrymore on the cover, but lately? Yeah, not digging it so much. I love how there's a plug for "be a sex goddess - p88" but then it's a mediocre kama sutra move that the reviewers didn't even enjoy. Hogwash, I say!
Lazy and random pretty much sums up my summer thus far.
One of the saddest days of my life was when I had to break up with Seventeen magazine. I'd been reading it since I was, like, twelve, and then I turned eighteen and realized that a) It kind of sucked and b) I was kind of old.
Cosmo was easier to break up with, since they just force-fed me the same old stuff every month.
I recently broke up with Vogue and I'm having a much harder time with that split. Then I remember that I don't need to see Kiera Knightley on the cover every month, and I will be okay.
Hey, maybe my toes and your toes can hang out? I saw a t-shirt the other day that said "Poor, Ugly, Happy." That's my toes these days. . .
what could we call a magazine by 30-somethings for 30-somethings? perhaps: "now that we have enough money to buy things, but you don't make OR advertise clothes for US"
I had to almost break up with Glamour mag once I realized that I was only interested in the back page where the dos and don'ts hung out. A little later, I realized that I was only looking at the back page to see that my puss wasn't there with a black bar over my eyes and a big fat "don't" sign slung across whatever atrocity I was wearing that day. Then, sadly I realized that I had no use for a fashion mag because there was just going to be no more forward movement from me. We broke it off. I remain in the jeans and t-shirt rut that I was in then. But I'm comfy!
those touchpad presets can really eff a girl up. have a great weekend dollface!
Stacy. Stacy knows computers. Computers gud. Sometimes. Find keyboard drivers online. Download. Reinstall. Restart. Keyboard work gud.
This post brought to you by the cavewoman currently holding my brain hostage.
I don't really know if I have anything to say about this as a guy. Seeing as how I'm still a huge dork, I am fine with reading any video gaming magazines out there. And I've never really been one for Maxim or Stuff or any other magazine of the like. They're fine to look at if you're bored or at a frat house or something, I'm sure, but just laying around the house, there's no reason to open one.
HaHa! I 'broke up' with Jane a long time ago. I'm dating Lucky now. I still yearn for a little Jane now and then though....
Friends don't let friends turn into pyros. However, real friends frame the other friend for arson and send them cookies in jail.
The only time I'll read magazines like your Jane mag is when I'm waiting in line to check out at a grocery store. I can't only read about Brittany Spears so many times.
As for your laptop, pull an Office Space and kill the fucker. It obviously needs a mousepad lock. Solution: Dell offers cheap payment plans.
Your toes will forgive you.
Your first letter is brilliant!
not to imply the others aren't.
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