As I passed the Walmart checkout magazine stand, AKA where brain cells go to die, I briefly saw BOOBS and the name KIM on the cover of Rolling Stone. I didn't see who it was so I'm like ummm, Lil Kim?? Has she been remotely relevant in the last 10 years? Then the horror of knowledge hit me. Lil Kim would have been more relevant, in that at least she made music at some point in her life. No, one of the vile K-named people, who as far as I know have never made a lick of music in their lives, is on the cover of what was once a music magazine.
Oh wait, she's married to that egotistical bleating robot Kanye West. Well, I guess that qualifies her!
I can't even properly snark about this as I'm legitimately angry. Rolling Stone may have worn away its integrity over the years, but this reeks of actual death of culture. The watchmen have officially fallen asleep at the door. I'm not sure which is sadder - that they're so desperate for readers they need to put that attention whoring hag on their cover, or that putting her on the cover is what's perceived as bringing in readers. This is a sad new low. I am sad.
One question remains: however did they manage to snag an interview with the elusive Ms. K? What a coup! I mean, it's not like she's in every headline and magazine and everywhere all the time...
Oh, shit. She's omnipresent. Is Kim Kardashian... God?
MICHAEL BAY TIME
