Hey Fellow Writers, Listen Up

I know, I know. You are anxiously waiting for a new post so you can keep abreast of my weekend adventures. Was it another gay man trying to pick me up? Nope, sorry everyone. This weekend was an adventure of a different kind. It was a adventure for all of the senses. I ventured down to New York City for a Paul Van Dyk concert in Central Park. In case you don't know, Paul Van Dyk is one of the most popular djs in the entire world. He plays really fast techno music and just kicks ass. I am sad to say but I think it just supplanted the Men At Work concert I saw at Penn State. My appologies to Colin Hay.

Anyway, on to the post. This is actually something that has bothered me for years but I never had the forum to express my true feelings. I guess as I walking down the street in New York City with all of the advertising and publishing in the air, it struck a nerve in my head where this thorn had been residing for so many years.

So, I am assuming you have all opened a magazine in your lifetime. If you haven't, then you should stop reading right now and go jump out your window because you have nothing to live for. Well the ad wizards at the publishing houses do their best to design a cover each month with flashy graphics and big words to catch your eye so you will drop the $3.95 on their magazine and not the other one right next to it that is basically the same but with a different title.

For example, you see on the cover of People a picture of Jessica Simpson and the words "Simpson Caught Topless, Exclusive Photos". Well any guy will instantly pick that one over the Mens Health with yet another way to get that 6 pack. Weights, Cardio, and Diet in case you are wondering. There, I just saved you $3.95. And any woman will pick it up because for some reason women are more interested in the lives of celebrities than their own but that certianly is the subject of another post.

So you quickly thumb through 15 pages of ads for makeup and find the table of contents. Your eyes quickly scan for the word Jessica, Simpson, or Topless. Bang. Page 60. This is where I have a huge problem. Why does the publisher decide that he is only going to randomly put page numbers in? You thumb through and notice the numbers go from 21, skip about 13 pages, 34, and that's it. I think this is the most frustrating thing in the world. At least Playboy makes the centerfold a little thicker so you can get right to that without having to even look at the table of contents or page numbers. They also put the other two pictorials right after those awesome cartoons; one before and one after the centerfold...just in case you were wondering. But I'm sure my male readers already knew that.

So what can you take away from this? I am actually directing this towards a few of you specifically who work in publishing or aspire to. It's really quite simple: be more like Hugh Hefner.