Maggi, Roommate Daniel's girlfriend, leaves Us magazine lying around the house. Its frequent home, appropriately, is on the toilet lid. But I can only stare at the wall opposite the shitter for so long before I start craving something to read. Something light, something quick, something that will not linger — the literary equivalent of one of those Listerine strips.
Hello, Us magazine.
I've decided this publication is the worst one I've ever read. It's like a yearbook for some fashionable, glamorous high school that you're not allowed to attend. A third of its pages are reserved for making snarky remarks about people's clothes. It even contains a section called "They're Just Like US!" that proves celebs are real people by showing them doing everyday activities. Ever wanted to know what Alyssa Milano looks like carrying groceries to her car? Flip open Us. And, by the way, no celebrities aren't just like you and me. When we rake our leaves, no one cares. When Benjamin Bratt does it, they take a picture of him and get paid quite handsomely for it. I'm waiting for Us to show me what Naomi Watts' unflushed toilet bowl looks like. "They're just like us! Their bodies expel waste through their anuses!" And thank god for us — I'm sure some of us were beginning to wonder if we were the only ones.
The worst part is that this magazine is hard to ignore. If it's there and your brain is idle, you flip through it. Again, like those Listerine strips. If someone offers you one and you don't have anything in your mouth, you take it. You know your dirty mouth will taste bad again in ten minutes, but you take the strip. Unlike Listerine products, however, I feel Us is making me stupider. I think I'm going to ask Maggi to stop leaving them around the house, before the roommates and I self-devo and start watching E! all day.
Seriously, I'd rather she left loaded guns around the house. At least then we could use them to kill spiders. If I roll up an Us for bug-swatting, I'm scared I'll let one of the words on the cover slip into my head. Then I'd be lost for good.
EDIT: I decided yesterday that Us magazine is also the most poorly named publication ever. A more suitable title: Them.