#2

I never said it was gonna be pretty

This isn't going to be an easy entry for me to write, for I will be revealing things about myself that will no doubt make you think, "Whoa...TMI, Lebrookski, T-M-I..."*

Just keep in mind, that I'm trying to make a point (of sorts) here.

If you've ever visited me at one point or another -- well, up until about 10 months ago -- you may have noticed that somewhere in my room there was a small-to-medium stack of Cosmopolitan magazines.

Every issue of Cosmo ever.

Here's where the misunderstanding may begin, because, you see, 93.5% of time I do not give a fuck about this publication. However, since it only comes out once a month...you buy one and it taints you for the other 29-30 days (we're not counting February here, too confusing).

But in my mind, there is a perfectly acceptable explanation as to why I bought the magazines in the first place. That's right...I blame "The Bad Sickness".

Every month -- like clockwork, might I add -- this "ailment" forces me to become totally irrational (ok, ok, even more irrational than normal) and makes me want to do nothing more than spend a full day lying in bed curled up in the fetal position, eating those litte chocolate gem donuts (occasionally dipping them in vanilla pudding), reading Cosmo...and praying for death to come and take me swiftly.

At some point last year, I realized that reading Cosmo makes me feel like shit. There's just something about reading about how I can enhance my eyes by using 3 different colors of eye shadow that just turns my stomach a little bit. In my delicate state of mind, my head starts screaming, "Motherfuckers! I only have 2 shades of eye shadow and they're both brown!!! What more do you want from me?!" Then I burst into tears...

Anyway, long story short, to paraphrase Stephen Colbert: Cosmopolitan magazine is dead to me, and has been since last March (or so).

In the meantime, I've switched to Maxim. Not because it's "better"...but because Maxim has jokes (and jokes and jokes).

Still, it'll have to do until the revolution gets here, when I plan to do away with with womens' magazines as we know them. Goodbye, Cosmo, Glamour, Jane, Elle...um...Allure (sorry, J. Courtney, hopefully your book will become a best-seller and if not, no worries, you will find gainful employment within the office of the revolution).

In their place, I will begin publishing a "super magazine" combining the elements of everyone's favorite African-American magazines.

Yeah that's Floetry. You wanna fight about it?

I know the title doesn't make much sense. What's a "Jet Essence" you may be asking? It's whatever you want it to be, my babies. [EDIT: How's about Jebonessence?] Don't worry, you'll get on board eventually...or else.

As for the mens' magazines, not much of a change there. We'll just keep all the jokes, gadgets and articles about weirdo serial killers...we'll just bring in the guys from KING and Smooth to do the photospreads.

Because when the revolution gets here...big booties will be in, says I, and they won't be goin out of style, ya herrrd?

Also, free subscriptions to Vibe, The Source, XXL, Juice, Backspin, Down and Mugshot (which since it's already free, it will become even free-er) for everyone. The "downside"? There will be a monthly test on the content. The highest score gets some kind of prize... like some rims or an autographed copy of Pootie Tang.

Sah-dah-tay...


*= Too Much Information