Monday, August 17, 2009
Or maybe, just cute enough.
What you are about to see originally appeared in Woman's World magazine. Some of you may be familiar with that publication. It's one of those magazines that puts contradictory blurbs on the cover. You can find 25 superb dessert recipes inside, and also how to lose 10 pounds quickly. That seems to be the modus operandi for quite a few magazines aimed at the female audience, so it's no wonder a large percentage of women have hideous self-image problems.
(Also, most women's magazines - if they don't have food on the cover - have women on the cover. Men's magazines usually have women on the cover, too. What's up with that? I know why women on the cover make men's magazines sell, but why in hell do women snap up magazines with other women on the cover? I would think they'd like to see handsome men on the cover, but apparently that's not how it works.)
(And, of course, I'm just talking about your average run-of-the-mill heterosexual women here. What lesbians have on the cover of their magazines, I don't know. Maybe it's all women there, too? Let's have a look...
Hmmmmmmmmmm. You make the call.)
(Yes, I know. I'm a heteronormative sexist pig. Anything for a laugh!)
My Mom had a small story published in Woman's World in 1992.
(Imagine that. My Mom had something published nationally 17 years ago. I'm still waiting for my first acceptance. I don't know what the problem is. Perhaps I've misjudged the public taste. I thought stories about big rubber dicks would be just the thing to get me into Good Housekeeping.)
So, anyway, My Mom had a story published in Woman's World. Why, here it is now!
Is it at all possible that anything I have to say could add value to that? No, certainly not. However, I would like to point out, for the record, that was the last time to date I've chirped.
Soon, with more better stuff.
(By the way, this is what I was going on about all of last week when I was verklempt about not having a scanner available. Was it worth the wait? Before commenting, keep in mind we're talking about My Mother here, you snarky bastards.)