Dear Cat Fancy:
I am deeply offended that you did not run my photo of Mr. Pickles. He is very upset, judging by the projectile vomiting and the constant clawing at his custom-made sailor costume. You call yourself a fan of felines? You, sir, are a phony, and I plan to cancel my subscription after I receive my free kitty litter tote bag.
Dear Playboy:
Surely I’m not the only one to find problems with Miss September’s pictorial. For one, I calculated her measurements based on the length of the Wilson tennis racket in the second photo, and surprisingly found her to be three inches shorter and two inches wider than her profile indicates! Second, her vulva in the third photo looks suspiciously like her right armpit in the fourth photo. Lesser publications are known to substitute a taut armpit for a tired vulva, but I expect better from such a bastion of frank sexuality. Third, six Playmates this year have listed “sense of humor” as a turn-on. I’m beginning to suspect the veracity of your Playmate Data Sheets.
Dear Highlights:
The Hidden Pictures in your last issue was quite disturbing. I counted not one, but two filthy crimes involving carrots and donkeys, and my stomach turned at the sight of Tony Danza torturing President Bush with a ham sandwich. Also, I could not find the bunny, on account of all the penises. Never have I seen such depravity in a children’s magazine. Keep it up.
Dear Consumer Reports:
Hey, guys, great reviews, but what’s with all the household products? Washing machines? Dishwashers? How about stuff we actually use? Personally, I’d like more reviews of weapons-grade plutonium or particle accelerators: There’s so much shoddy workmanship out there, and the chimps at Best Buy are completely clueless.
Dear Wired:
For shame! I am shocked and appalled that a magazine such as yours exists! Although I have never read your publication — since I am functionally illiterate — I think it’s awful that you glorify drug use! Page after page of nothing but cocaine and uppers? Repent, friends! Turn toward High Times, which I assume is about the Rapture and Jesus catching you in the sky.
Dear Ebony:
Your magazine proudly shatters negative African-American stereotypes, but I must ask: Where are the white people? Whites make up over 80 percent of the US, but the only place we see them on your pages is in group shots or an occasional ad. Is this a deliberate attempt to distort reality? Why are we still judging people’s magazine worthiness based on race? My Irish-Japanese girlfriend promised me that I’d get fewer beatings if I could point out some light-colored folks while devouring your profile on Queen Latifah.
Dear Family Circle:
I want to thank you for opening my eyes. Your articles about treasuring everyday moments with one’s family finally hit me. I cut down my time at the office, became better organized, and even prepared your delicious glazed apple chicken! After all that, I discovered I really don’t like my family that much: They’re horrible, horrible people whom I have nothing in common with. Crestfallen, I again turned to your magazine — it turns out your festive pumpkin cozy fits my crack pipes perfectly! I haven’t coped this well since Charles in Charge was on the air!
Dear Harper’s:
How tragic it is that in times of war we have magazines such as yours! You keep publishing these thoughtful, well-written articles that expose how our government mishandled Katrina relief, mismanaged the Afghanistan and Iraq wars, underestimated the Iran and North Korea threats, underfunded key social programs, denied science when it conflicted with far right-wing beliefs, trampled our rights in the name of fear and Christianity, lied about everything under the sun, and left the country with fiscal and moral deficits that will last for years! Now, maybe you haven’t covered all that, but I know how you journalists work, and this thought-provoking drivel must stop! It’s dangerous to provoke thoughts in our citizens, many of whom are deeply stupid; what if they asked questions and inadvertently delayed the end of the world? Then who’d be sorry? You, that’s who!
Dear Entertainment Weekly:
You’ve done it again, this time with your list of the Top 20 Sexiest Movies Involving Iowa and Richard Nixon. How do you do it? Add to that the gorgeous cover shot of the latest celeb du jour, and you guys rock! I gleefully wait by the mailbox for your next issue and my welfare check.
