Magazines.

By Peebz

 

Magazines are here for our entertainment. They give the girls at the office something to gossip about, or the guys something to oggle over, albeit cars or tits (stereotypes, I know). Now, I’m not going to moan about the quality of men’s mags, although I do hate it when newsagents keep them on the same shelf as the Noddy comics for kids (“Get these free wax crayons!” and an eyeful of Lucy Pinder…) I’m going to talk about the likes of ‘Look’, ‘Grazia’, ‘Now!’ ‘More’, and my personal least favourite – ‘Heat’.

Right at this moment, I have that annoying fucking advert in my head. You know the one. “We’re going to London to buy a Heat magazine!”. No. You’re going ALL THE WAY to London, despite the congestion charges, despite being stuck in traffic with two kids in the back of your fucking car who will undoubtedly moan and annoy the crap out of you, to pick up a corporate pile of shit about Posh’s latest fucking haircut!
WHO FUCKING CARES!?

 I know for one that I don’t. But then again, I guess magazines aren’t all that bad, I mean, if I really REALLY wanted to know what the best 25 nail polishes are for this season.. Am I being facetious?.. I think I am.

I don’t want which fashions and looks I should be going for this season being dictated to me by someone who idolise women that weigh 100lbs less than they themselves do and dress in Gucci or Fendi. Women that then go and get their own clothes from Dorothy Perkins and think they’re going to lose weight on the Slim Fast diet. Go fuck yourselves!

“Gok Wan says wear magic knickers! They look horrific but they hide the bulge” Fuck off. Its magazines that make girls anorexic and depressed about the way they look. When the only role models we’re given by these magazines all look like they could be knocked over by a stiff breeze, and have half their nose missing due to the amount of coke they’re snorting, how can we be shocked by the current state the youth is in? They’re angry because they have nothing to aspire to, and I blame these cocksuckers. I recently saw a TV programme with a young girl on it. When asked what she wanted to be when she grows up, her answer was… “I want to be a Wag.”

A fucking WAG!

When I was younger all the girls wanted to be nurses or teachers. Now they want to screw footballers and release their own brand of perfume. It’s not right. It sucks.

And also, what about the crappy ‘news’ stories we hear about these ‘role models?’.I do not want to know that Britney took a shit in a public toilet. I do not want to know that Madonna, the gapped toothed talentless witch (who my next rant will be about), is getting fucking divorced. And I most certainly do not want to know that Posh wears flat shoes from time to time.

Speaking of Posh, lets get on to how fucking hypocritical these bastard magazines are as well. One week we see on the front page…

“Fears over Lindsay Lohan’s new weight loss”

And in that same fucking issue we can see…

“Amy Winehouse is piling on the pounds”

Not only that, but they put a big red ring, outlining the folds of “flab” in her stomach. Two things. Lindsay Lohan is an anorexic crack whore. Of course she’s going to be fucking skinny. Amy Winehouse, on the other hand,  is a “recovering” smack head. She was fucking amazingly waif - it’s a good thing she’s putting on weight! (Well.. It’s bad for my dead pool) So why criticise her?! Moronic cunts.

And the thing that I was getting to about Posh.. She is constantly criticised for being too skinny. ‘Oh no! Posh is a size double zero - put some weight on!’ No.. how about YOU go and lose some weight, you fat, bitter, twisted fuck.

Then these same magazines that are one minute calling her a stick insect, then go on to kiss her fucking flat ass by praising her outfits! “Victoria Beckham was definitely the best dressed woman at the MTV Awards..” But you wouldn’t be saying that if she wasn’t so skinny would you? NO! You’d be saying she looks like a fucking walrus squeezed into a black bin liner.

So thus far we have;

-Role models who we don’t care about.
-Shit headlines about the kind of things we don’t care about.
-Articles about the kind of things we don’t care about.
-Contradictive articles about the kind of things we don’t care about.

Write about something fucking substantial! You know… like, ‘Lily Allen Breaks Neck After Falling Down A Flight Of Stairs’. Now THAT is something I want to fucking read about. Broke the heel on her shoe? No. Broke her neck? Bring it on.

Or you could write about, I dunno.. Jade Goody’s cancer.

Like. Every. Fucker. Else.

Nobody, and I mean nobody, gave a shit about Jade Goody before. She was a failure, a disgrace. Outcast by the British media for being a racist whore. And now? She’s dying.  So now, everyone cares.

I hate that everyone pretends that they fucking care about some 26 year old who appeared on our TV, in that joke of a show that is Big Brother no less, fuck knows how many years ago, just because she’s dying. I sympathise for her sons and her family etc, I know cancer is awful blah blah blah. But the fact of the matter is, I do not give a shit about Jade Goody. Her death is not going to affect me in any way whatsoever. And yet,  when I go into a corner shop to buy a bar of chocolate, I head over to the stand which so happens to be next to the magazines, and her bald head is slapped on the front page of every. Single. Fucking. Magazine.
“Jade Goody is an inspiration to us all..” Is she? So you aspire to be a racist, talentless dumb ass who has no real career or prospects? Go you!

Basically, when it comes to the crunch, what I’m saying is that magazines are annoying and pointless. I hate the celebrities they ‘report’ on, I hate that they report on them at all and I particularly hate that they feel that “Kate Moss shops in Top Shop” is something worthwhile to report on. FUCK OFF!

That is all.