A while back there was a TV show called Thirty Something, where a bunch of aging losers moaned about the good old days. Well, This Megazine has entered into it’s Twenty Something period, with this being the 20^th issue to roll off the laser printer, and highjacked copy machines of the business world. Isn’t it smart of us to use our stinky jobs to get free stuff that we don’t want to pay for like electricity, pencils, and stock options? If there is one thing you learn as you get older, it’s how to steal so you don’t get caught. Evidently, some other people never bothered to learn this important step (Ken Lay & Martha Stewart).
The other day I was reading some past history from my journal, and realized that all my headaches went away after I quit my job. These headaches were quickly replaced by feelings of panic and oh nos. But as my good friend Tony Robbins tells me, baby steps lead to giant steps. He’s a freakin' giant. That guy has banana hands! Say, why is a banana curved like a penis? SO you can stick it in your pants in the supermarket and walk out without paying. Those organic bananas are the best. Very stiff in all the right places.
I think a celebration is in order since we (This Megazine) has obviously outlasted Rosie O’Donnell’s magazine, Rosie. Of course you may attribute this to the quality stories, pictures and content that is submitted by our fiendishly loyal readers, the undying committed staff (they should be committed, to the hospital), the constant influx of $1 bills to keep the financial fortunes of this megatropolis growing. But I’d like to remind you that while you sleep safely and snuggly in your mommy’s bed, there are nasty people from the other side of the world that are toiling all night long, publishing their own perverted versions of their magazines. These people hate American’s fast food, they don’t understand that America’s freedom is built on French fries and miles of cow killing machines. You can’t stop America, Vespucci, I don’t care how many mini coopers you send over here! So in order for the American idol to persist through all kinds of internet pop up ads and web cam porno fests, you had better light a candle in the bathroom after you change your oil. Jeez, what did you eat? Did it smell that bad going in?
I’d like to thank you the submitters who so kindly responded to our air raid drills of letter writing contests to Playtex. Thanks to your valiant errors they have agreed to sell more window seats next to the wings. It may cause a little turbulence, but think of the joy it will bring when you can pull out a picture of you sitting next to a window seat as you fly over crotch canyon on your journey to Uranus.
The rest of you layabouts who never take the time to press the reply button, or make the mistake of pressing the delete button when you really wanted to press the reply button but you couldn’t due to a disfiguring accident in gym class that happened in the 4^th grade at St. Mary’s middle school for popular people, all I can say is maybe next time you could lift your head out of your corner office cubicle for a moment, dust off that “guide to writing letters to people who need to hear from you”, and fire off one or 2

snappy one liners to fill the pages of This Megazine. Remember, if you don’t fill it, some of those nasty bastinados from overseas will sneak something in there to pollute the minds of young stallions everywhere. Last time that happened Disney had a rash of hits on its hands, and Phil Collins was a busy man making soundtracks out of turds. Now I hear that GameBoy is making video games with nudity and violence for children, because they don’t get to see enough of it at home. The internet has really helped clean up our society so we can move on a grander roman empire apples. On second thought, I am reminded of a time when I found drug mice in my bathroom cabinet. These drug mice were eating everything in my medicine cabinet, from Doan’s backache pills to Excedrin and allegory tablets. They were pretty messed. Say have you met my wife? She was a drug mice once, but Betty Ford cleaned her clock and now she’s a regular gal Friday, who doesn’t stop when the vodka runs out. say, pass me some of that jelly roll, Morton, and lets talk about the weather fur a change. Happy reading, and please extinguish all marry Jew want to cigarettes before going to bed. Piece out.

“They made me write this against my will” waz

Once again, we have an amazing new assignment for output:
New Teacher
Un-Creative Writing 101

The aliens have decided to visit you at your home. They have run tests and made a decision to replace your brain. Please describe with explicit detail your brains before and after this exchange. Add any important detail necessary to make us understand. Describe the aliens, the tests, yours and their surroundings, or none of it. Etc. Please hand in this assignment as soon as possible to avoid an incomplete in the class.

Alien brain matter

Since I’ve been in California I’ve noticed that the Aliens keep pretty much to themselves.  Although, on occasions, the Aliens do come to my door.  They ask me to give them 10 dollars for gas or to buy cartons cigarettes that fell off a boat.  I don’t think that’s much of a test.  If it was, I can’t say that I passed.  Concerning my brain replacement.  I can’t say that I’ve noticed much of a difference but I seem to like to eat more raw fish than I used to.  Not that that is a bad thing. Or so I’m told.
Long live the Leader,
Kbud

I have a tough time remembering the whole thing The aliens are a blur. Quite literally, a blur. Whispy blue streams of color that float about effortlessly. They must French because of the attitude they had towards me and their machines plus their overall whispiness. The machines they used to replace my brain ( i know i have a new brain because of the warranty I was given) are not effortless. They act like an upside down milkshake-maker. After mixing it up, my old brain fell out like a Shamrock shake. I was implanted with pleasant memories of tasty green shakes. Mr Kroc would be proud of these boys. Back to the insertion of the new brain. It must be Intel because everytime time I say something clever I here that da-de-dum-dum crap. The new brains hums and runs a little hot, but if I drive with my head out the window it helps. I have to believe they replaced my brain becuase I blew the verbal portion of the test. Just like the ol' days.

Rolling Rock Fingernails

The Big Move To Space By Noah Rankin 1st grade
It would be nice to move to space. This is a story about that. It goes like this. First one morning I opened my eyes. I was looking at the sky. It looked like it was frozen. I asked my mom and dad if we could move to space. My mom and dad said No! Please? Ok, my mom and dad said. When I was packing I was thinking what we would be doing in space. When we were going to space I was checking if I brought everything I wanted to pack. Then I said to myself softly I have my camera, sleeping bag, my Easter bunny rabbit, my bald eagle toy, my beanie blue jay and my favorite book. I said “We don’t even know where Uranus is.” Then we found out where Uranus is.
When we landed I remembered we forgot the family star! Then my mom and dad said “Should we go back and get it?”  I said “No I want to stay here and have fun”. When we packed up and were ready to go home we went in the rocket. When we were going I saw the family star! Hurray, hurray, everybody said. We went toward earth. The end.