A Love Letter To Missbehave Magazine

Dear Missbehave magazine, Everything about you rules. I'm saying this even though you put Lydia Hearst on your cover and also even though I believe one of your employees was behind a certain mean-spirited text to my phone. I am not saying this because I am a leotard-and-leopard-print-and-orange acrylic nails sort of gal, or because I think it's necessarily the best thing for the gender to hold a contest for the "Cutest Missbehave subscriber" or because I share your elaborate sexual fantasies about NY1 anchorman Pat Kiernan. It's because you addressed Pat Kiernan as "Sugar Dick," and that made me LOL. (Excerpt: "On my way to work, careful to avoid the subways with service interruptions that I learned from that morning's Rail and Road Report, I pick up my Starbucks Venti drip, and long for a triple pump. A triple pump of your man treacle.")

I love that you somehow seem to be having fun! I love that you review Tiger Eyes and the CIA World Factbook on the same page. I love that you updated me on the whereabouts of YouTube star Kelly. (Of "Shoes" fame!) I love your hot toddy recipe and your review of the "best slutty hotel," the Caesar's Poconos, even though I know you went there on a junket and I don't, on principle, approve of junkets. But I'm willing to forget my "principles" because I love your crazyass layout and design and I don't even usually give a shit about design. And this is kind of typical of me but: I love how your masthead this month lists your editors' fave prescription drugs. I love that I actually enjoy reading something targeted at girls. Maybe it's because you guys don't seem to be taking yourselves seriously? I dunno, whatever, I don't want to think about it. KTHXBAI.

Earlier: Hanging With The Ill Girls Of Missbehave