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Tabloid magazines. They’re sordid. They’re trashy.
(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 about Brad and Angelina’s nuptials, instead of trying to decipher the source of the foul odor in the kitchen (answer: old sippy cup full of soy milk).
Trashy gossip mags have been my companion through highlights and bed rest, and they always make me smile -
Today I was scrolling through my Facebook news feed, and I saw that one of my friends had posted this: