Hello, old friends! I’m writing to you today from Leeds, England, a city that I now travel to with some regularity for work. Leeds is actually a lovely little city. It’s got great shopping, beautiful architecture, and even the homeless people here call me “love,” which is certainly a nice change from “bitch ass.” That said, my absolute favorite thing about the UK is still, without a doubt, the ghoulish, sensationalist tabloids that you can only buy over here.
What’s that, you say? You don’t know which tabloids I’m referring to? Well, boy, are you in for a treat. Here – instead of trying to explain what I’m talking about, I’ll just show you two of my favorite covers from last week.
1. Take a Break
Take a Break is a stellar example of the kind of pure and good journalism I’m talking about here. Honestly, there’s so much going on with this cover that I don’t even know where to begin…IT’S ALL TOO GOOD.
First of all, if your 11 year old son wants to kill your whole family with a knife, is it really still appropriate to say that he’s ‘perfect?’ I feel like that’s a character flaw that should at least knock him down a few points to ‘great, except for that whole bloodlust thing.’
Also, what, exactly, does it mean to keep one’s ‘double’ in a wardrobe? Are we talking about a clone here? And how big was the wardrobe? It was probably the size of a studio apartment in the East Village, anyway, so I don’t really get why that’s such a big deal.
Lastly, how does a person go straight from having nothing more than a cough to having both of her goddamn legs amputated?! Surely there must have been a few intermediary steps between the two? If not, I’m pretty sure that person has a promising lawsuit on her hands (assuming they didn’t unexpectedly chop those off, too).
2. That’s Life!
Frankly, “That’s Life” seems like a very pessimistic name for a magazine that publishes stories with headlines like ‘Mum Seduced My Man as Our Baby Died.’ Is that REALLY just life? I sure as fuck hope not! Jesus.
And what kind of shameless funeral antics are we talking about? All I can picture is a sped-up montage of two people miming different sex acts while the Benny Hill theme song plays in the background at a funeral. Truly ghastly – but I’m desperate to hear more!
The headline that really caught my eye in the store, though, was “Dodgy Op: I could fit my HAND inside my BOOB,” because HOW?! From a logistical standpoint, I mean. Although the more I think about it, the more I’m convinced that having a secret pocket inside my boob could have its advantages. Going out clubbing and don’t want to bring a purse? Just throw your debit card, a fiver and your favorite red lipstick inside your boob and you’re good to go!
The real question is, why don’t we have magazines like this in the US? I’d much rather read schadenfreude-inducing stories like these than whack American articles about Kim Kardashian’s favorite salad fixins. Get with the program, People Magazine!
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Sharp Teeth, Sharper Tongue.