My unnamed tabloid of choice has failed to arrive for two weeks. Correction: IT did not fail to do anything, except to produce any content relevant to the collective knowledge and character of humanity. And frankly, I cannot imagine a more accurate description of a bad celebrity magazine's purpose, than to suck these very virtues out of the Earth's population. You have to respect the writers at this fine publication, for valiantly refusing to give in to both public and internal pressure to report on incidents of any importance (or even incidents that actually happened.)These pleasant pages are the only way I can be promptly informed that Kim Kardashian "[gave] birth in designer heels." That she "plans an immediate tummy tuck." That she named her child after a navigational reading. Oh, my mistake. Everyone watching ANY sort of news has been subjected to an overabundance of this information.
No, the magazine itself is not to blame for my lack of mindless entertainment. The real culprit is obviously the manufacturer of those stupid mail trucks, who forgot to put doors on them. My useless reading material probably blew out and into the yard of somebody with both a conscience and an agenda full of meaningful endeavors, who has neither the time nor the stomach to read it.
When I first subscribed, I actually used a pseudonym so that if the contraband fell into my respectable neighbors' hands, they could not use the address label to discern to whom it belonged. That backfired when I grew a shame center, canceled my subscription, and tried to recoup the money from the unused portion. They naturally made out my refund check to my pseudonym. Very long, complicated, and humiliating story.
Five nanoseconds after my cancellation, when I broke down and signed up again, I used my real name to to avoid such future hassles. What happened? They delivered it to the home of my Mormon Bishop and his family. (They returned it without snickering.)
Anyway, I am now faced with no other option but real news, and it scares me. You want the truth? You are welcome to it. I can't handle the truth. My anxiety level rises noticeably when I so much as hear the letters ABC, even when it is my daughter singing The Alphabet Song. I do not want to know what tragic incidents their news station is reporting.
CNN is equally horrifying. Have you read their story about the skyscraper that devours over-priced luxury cars? Okay, that is not an entirely accurate report, but I am accustomed to the tabloid version of every story. The real event involved the glass Walkie Talkie building under construction in London, which reflected so much heat that it melted part of an innocent man's Jaguar and the "Welcome" mat at a barbershop.
Can you imagine the horror of this poor gentleman, who now may be forced to rent a sub-compact American-made car? Worse... a minivan? How do the customers of this barber feel, seeing that their friendly neighborhood shop will no longer "Welcome" them?
FOX News shares even more alarming updates. Their site has a piece discussing the frequency of e-mail checks during a worker's vacation. What I found so frightening was that roughly half of employees refuse to open their inbox during recreational trips, which means that if I ever get a job, move up the corporate ladder, step on the little people, and succeed in becoming somebody's boss... I will be helpless to annoy them with work requests while they are taking mandated time off. In case this story really catches your interest... which I would honestly find weird...feel free to research it more deeply.These things keep me up at night, while I am watching Entertainment Tonight and the commercial breaks interrupt my drivel-induced trance. I hope my magazines rescue me tomorrow, before I face any more disturbing, hard-hitting exposes on the lack of cell-phone reception at NFL stadiums. What if I really, REALLY need to reach my husband, to ask him to pick up some bagels on the way home from the game? (Warning: Story may be unsuitable for those emotionally attached to their cell phones, or for those who are easily bored. I am both, so I am just going to peruse my stack of old STAR issues. Good Night.)
