A confession (and you better appreciate it 'cause I don't do confessions on this blog that often).
Back when I was 15 or so and living upstate New York and struggling to understand my attraction to men, I used to rob convenience stores. Yes! I was a drive-by-store gang banger!!!
Except I was a big-nosed and pimple-proned geek (hawt!). And I didn't use a gun. Just stealth. And, hm, I also got caught. Which is probably why my life of crime was cut short.
In my hands when I got caught? The latest issues of Inches, Playgirl and Blueboy! Yes! Blueboy (remember?).
Of course I was embarrassed and scared and all that but when I was asked the all-important question of "Why?" by the store manager I sincerely thought I had a winner when I said "Well, sir, you have to know, sir, that I'm an art major and... hm, we are taking a look at human anatomy, and... well..."
That didn't fly too well - dammit! - and I had to return all of the magazines anyway but at least he let me go.
Which is why today's news that Playgirl magazine will no longer be in the newsstands is such a sad and historic moment.
I guess I'm to blame 'cause I never actually bought a single issue and it is sales revenues that keeps our institutions alive. Then again, maybe it was the magazine's insistence it was just for women when it clearly (and mostly) wasn't.
In any case, rest in peace, Playgirl, I am certainly a little bit gayer because of you and that can't be a bad thing. It certainly is the end of an era.
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