A letter to one who's moved on

Dear Whoever It Was That Brought Trashy Magazines To The Gym,

I miss you. Where have you gone, and why did you take your never-ending supply of US Weekly and InTouch with you? Ever since you left, all that there are some year-old copies of Redbook - ick - and a very sad issue of People magazine that was printed in the short period between when James Kim's family was found and when they determined that he was dead. Those are both equally depressing but for entirely different reasons.

I realize that bringing my old Economists to the gym just makes me part of the problem, and not the solution. So here's the deal: you come back and allow me to get caught up on my celebrity gossip and I will put a six-month moratorium on my Economists, okay? I even brought in the special double issue of People showing off gowns at the Oscars and Patrick Dempsey's news twins as a good faith measure. Don't let me down.

Crossing my fingers that you'll be back in my life in time for Britney's next public appearance,

Her Ladyship

PS: You can tell your compatriot, Whoever's Been Stealing Magazines from San Antonio's Fertility Clinic, to knock it the fuck off, too. Fertility clinics are not fun places under the best of circumstances - no need to add to the misery by depriving their waiting rooms of some decent reads.