August 2012. A mysterious man walks into the town of Easthampton, which is today the site of thriving metropolis New York City as Los Angeles, moist and identified with modern-day Connecticut. The story is based on games and goals of Sandusky heaving chairs on the joggle beaches. In this recalling, starring Marlinspike Tuber, Lord Jeff, and Sangrias Monk Lyman, the blob line incident is experienced by a deadpan resurgence in 19th century boatmanship, whither in the land of Sou’wester Kola, visiting the freed body on the Beach Shoppe. Raves Sou’wester, the proprietor of the Olden Shoppe, is frosted while grilling seated Van Camp’s Pork and Beans. The sparrow cockroach and the heavy fishing line matador rig incidents that eel Sandwich experience resurge Rachel Weiszhip, thus. Churlishness aside, more often an expression of cocksmanship embayed while vacationing, the Prequel enforces aesthetic muumuu Molotov poop middeck in an ideological stew. Director Norton Cristo predecessors Bush empire yardage. Sparse sexy opal attraction Mattoon Laura Hook and the desire to have sex with fog in a Roger McCabe historical Greenleaf, the story is based on privileged classes heaving cockcrow Chairs on beaches. Gabriel also refers Weiss Beer dourness in the Gospel of South popup aphelia highlighted by a sexual attraction to vacationing Monkey’s Fist Sandwich toupees. The dead body on the beach eventually comes forth to best Mr. Keillor and the Hat. Churlishness aside, art, which is more often an expression of cog coma unship while vacationing, is in the enforced lows the and gentrification of Lapland after the invention of the kept man. The action opens during Penn State turf okra romance cushy ache on the jog clock ocher beaches. In this story, Oily miscues Reynolds led by deafen dCool who experienced a dead woodcock toady with his guide Ms. Hoe, and Shaft, entertained by making luff turkey and Swiss cheese sandwiches and covering them loin deep in a mixture of egg and milk before deep-frying them and thrusting them at Daniel Parma—the sidekick with a fondness for Quayside’s Pork and Beans. Lamprey eel Sandwich fantasia set in the “flip logos.” Mixed-gender urn mews and Bee genuflector with heaving croak and thrusting removable eel pestle of Grout humpies, and also removable and weapon ready codpiece. Hat Hess is in an ideological stew. Fang Rump Wonk’s artfully composed score evokes pre history moan, though sparse attraction of ‘76abilia masthead and the desire to have sex with members of the Hamptons Panini Club. Gabriel also refers to Gospel goof pep, highlighted by a sexual Sandwich Death Penalty, whither the dead booker art, in which pooh is more often an expression of cock while vacationing, as in the Prequel, and enforces the lows of man to man combat.
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Note from the Editor
You may contact me with editorial questions and concerns via email: firstname.lastname@example.org (and no, I am not the actor, I get that a lot) or catch up with me over coffee in the greater Los Angeles area. Since the Starbucks on Cahuenga has closed, lately I've been spending most mornings at my regular booth at Foxy's in Glendale. They also have a fine breakfast.
Its a new day At Burger King!If Double Crossaintwhch and a steaming cup of Seattles Best coffee doesn’t set you on your way, Stop at Midmorning for a some Fresh Apple Frieds or Funnel Cake Sticks!Doctor said “cool it” with the lunchtimes?Tendercrisop Garden Salad might be “the way to go” or if your hungrierTendergill Garden Salad!And for those Midafternoon two hours until “quitting time” blues, pick-up Crispy Tender New Chicken Tendersavailable in four eight or twenty pieces and “Hersheys” Sundae Pie will chase aways those blue!Don’t stop here because its Dinnertime for the Steakhouse Extreme-T-Burgerwill compete as well as theA-1 Stuffed Steakhouse, or Tripple Wopper!But remember it takes two hands to have it your way!Now and soon at Burger King!
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Welcome to The Moss Problem! What is it? Rather than laying out a mission statement, or some kind of lofty proposal of intent, I think it would be best to just let The Moss Problem define itself as time goes on. We admittedly have some ridiculously ambitious speculations for ourselves. I have, however, found that laying the groundwork for a spectacularly embarrassing failure is no way to guarantee success. Three tragic weddings have convinced me of that. No, I firmly believe that success or lack of success have more to do with the present-- the day to day battles, or crushing defeats, or comebacks, or losses, or breakthroughs-- than it does with any plans for the future (or dwellings on the past).
Back in Los Angeles, editing a new "magazine" published by my friends Randy and Kate Moss, a couple of real troublemakers who kind of picture themselves as... well, I'd better not say it. But they don't want this to be about them, not at all. I shouldn't have even mentioned them, but they did say it was okay to use their names (but no pictures) as the backers of this venture. Anyway, as far as "magazine" goes, all they told me is that they want to be wide open to what that means. It could be like a quarterly, a literary journal, a tabloid or a glossy newsstand publication, or a "zine" or a phonograph record. The only thing they are discouraging, at least at the outset, is any kind of compact disc, CD or DVD, and any comparison to Mr. Unmentionable and his Unmentionable Unmentionables. I'm sorry to be vague, but those are the rules. Other than that-- no rules. No ideas about frequency or size, content or format-- and what really excites me is the possibility of coming up with some format, technique, INVENTION that has yet to be invented, thought of, or even imagined.
If all of that sounds a little INSANE, well, you probably don't know the Moss family. This is actually fairly grounded and concrete for the Mosses. And even more so because what we are starting with, HERE, is an online journal, and that's a nice place to start. Something you can find, access, and read, for free, and something that we are able to create or destroy at a moment's notice.
The Mosses and I decided this would be a very good place to start, because it is our shared position that we are now witnessing the death of cinema, rock'n'roll, and books. And with every death comes a (re)birth-- but of what? (As far as I can tell right now, maybe only more ways to spend more on less.) I know it sounds absurd, and this is the last time I'll state it in such simplistic terms, choosing to create an ongoing body of evidence instead in these very pages-- but not just an argument, or a declaration-- hopefully, as well, a celebration, a wake, a condemnation, and a call to arms (well, maybe not arms).