Ha, but Judy, us magazine editors are not concerned with such lowly
matters as spel(l)ing which is left to the lower orders of copy editors
and proofreaders (why else do we hire suck things for???) but rather the
more delicate matters of cutting up and snorting coke on the toilet seat
with the art director while we decide which journalist and photographer
we will send to interview and photograph yet another boring Hollywood
A-lister in such a why that it fits neatly around the space our
proprietor who as the son of a big media magnate would expect us to do,
while also smoking four paper joints in Ocean Street, a well known
street in the most elite inner circle eastern Sydney suburbs with this
son proprietor who is wearing a dress we describe as a caftan to so he
then cannot be accused of wearing a dress and as such cross dressing in
a way not befitting of an heir to a multinational media conglomerate
which then allows ample room for advertising agencies acting on behalf
of other big mega mega bucks corporations who they convince they have
got the lowest ad-space rate available for all history to advertise
their lowly wears (mostly upmarket designer clothing shit-oopsstuff, to
be precise) and to pay quite a lot more indeed quite a lot more for then
the costs we have conferred on our white powder toilet seats smelling of
the same diesel oil which I put into the tank of my crimson red Mercedes
sports sedan.
On Wed, 2008-10-22 at 11:57 -0400, Judy Prince wrote:
> Did I mention, Christopher, that my reading level's on par with most 3rd
> graders? I'll need a big boost of CLEAR explaining even before tackling
> what I fear is not 'DESSERT' but a dusty desert of clunky translations.
> YAK!
> Spelchek Judy
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