This is one of those there fashion magazines, and it was sitting on top of the trash at the post office so I took it, hoping for some wacky pictures to use since it promised a "60 Page Salute to New Orleans". Except of those 60 pages, 39 was like some zombie model chick in $300 underwears. I am amazed people would actually buy these fashion magazines, because they are not cheap, and you go 80 pages before getting to the table of contents, and the whole things smells like perfume. I used to associate that smell with the brief period my dad had a subscription to Playboy, because it has the same stupid smell, but like these fashion magazines, Playboy sucked too. No open vaginas, and for a kid growing up sneaking peeks at his dad's secret stash of Ouis, Hustlers, and Penthouses, Playboy was a step in the wrong ass direction. Even when it comes to articles, it sucked. Old Penthouses turned me onto a lot of conspiracy theories back in the day, and Oui had mind-shaping interviews with wackos like Lemmy, Ozzy Osbourne, and Charles Bukowski, when I was a young one winding down after a heavy afternoon of staying home pretending sick by myself, masturbating myself silly.
Oh yeah, W magazine... it sucks. I won't be picking it out of any garbage cans again.
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