#39 Vogue In The Doctor's Office

I have a few things to say about Vogue Magazine.

Aside from the fact that it costs $5.99, it is useless fluff weighing about 4 pounds. It is a meaningless wasteful excuse for passing time. It’s like the cream inside a Crumbs cupcake, except much, much worse, because it really should be inside a Twinkie or a Yodel. It is white cream which is made of corn syrup and artificial nano-particles containing GMO’s which invade deep tissue and the healthy cells which carry potential life sustaining substances to each system in your body, because you are stuck in a paralyzing haze trying to figure out how many colors and sparkly layers of eye shadow a 65 pound woman is wearing on her eyelids. The eye shadow weighs about 5 pounds on its own, per eyelid! That’s more weight than the actual magazine.

This is how the poison enters your system.

Each page, of 700, has a photograph which was painstakingly designed and manicured by a team of art directors and then digitally combed over by the IT department who finished assessing the ad sales Erotic Psychological Testing Focus Group Department's data so every minute detail of the glossy black pocketbook, stiletto shoe or violently red lipstick will attach itself to the deepest recesses of the prefrontal lobe cortex and amygdala of your brain which has pleasure center receptors which command: “buy!”

When you hit the perfume ad which smells like rancid Mc Cormick’s Artificial Vanilla & Acacia Jasmine Glade, you will know it is time to rapidly flip the pages  to avoid perfume molecules from attaching themselves to your hair and fingertips. That is what will happen, because that is what always happens when you are in the waiting room at the doctor’s office.

It will make you very sick.