Tabloid magazines. They’re sordid. They’re trashy.
I love them.
(Yes, I know I am Part of the Problem.)
I don’t know why, but I love sitting down with an US Weekly while I am getting my hair done or pretending to watch Toy Story for the sixteenth time. I like getting lost in the first world (possibly entirely fictional) “problems” of celebrities. For a few solitary moments, I can worry abou…
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