Hmm. Where did I put my soapbox? It's been awhile since I've been up on it and I was beginning to think I'd misplaced it. Luckily, for you all, I've found it. While the Reverend Deadeye was getting his head looked at by a doctor for an ear infection, Nicky Ninedoors and I slipped off to the local drug store in search of skincare products and vitamins. As I've been deficient in printed hype, I also picked up the April issue of Glamour magazine. The cover featured an actress I vaguely recognized from Mean Girls (but can't name) and an article from each of the seven women's mags literary food groups: Sex, style, diets, celebs, human interests, fiscal solvency and sex.

Because my habitats these days consist of stage/clubs, Murderbus interiors/gas stations, Motel 6/internet I am no longer au fait with magazines as I once was. Also, not having much disposable income limits how much money your going to spend on magazines, especially the really awesome European fashion and fetish ones that require a serious capital outlay. Not to mention that trying to find recycling on the road is really hard at gas stations in the USA. It's pretty atrocious, actually. Note: When the Americans are armpit deep in their own waste, dont' point and laugh - show them kindness by giving them a reusable shopping bag and how to recycle in places outside of major metropolitan cities. But with all these factors afoot, I felt it necessary to give my brain some cultural junk food, as it were. But the whole affair left me confused much the same way chocolate covered pretzels do (which by the way, should have never made it out of a production meeting. Now the debate on whether they are brilliant or retarded will continue to rage on.)

For every article that is meant to promote higher self esteem and awareness there are advertisements sneakily made to look like legit articles but their tips on style and fashion contradict the editorials. Okay, I get it -  the editorials are meant to be the fantasy dress ups, but geez, don't tell me not to be heavy-handed with blush then show a spread with hot Geisha make up that looks like it was applied with an air brush. For the record - I prefer the racing stripes look and I am no afraid to amp it up. To be fair to Glamour, the actual legit articles were good. But I felt like the same rehashed topics haunt issue after issue and once in awhile I'd like them to toss in something random and awesome - how to cheat at Tekken, hotwire a car, and change the fluids in your own car. Something that doesn't pertain to sex, fashion, or dieting. They can be sneaky about it if they want - "Change Your Own Tires To Get More Sex!" or "Tekken Cheating Tips For Hotter Sex!". You get the idea.

But then again, if I want substance, I can always just read a book, too.

Little Miss Risk

*From sunny Daytona Beach, FL