The September 2014 issue of Glamour features Olivia Wilde on the cover. In it, she discusses her newborn son, the confidence that she brings to her career, and her upcoming appearance at the International Women's Media Foundation's Courage in Journalism Awards, to be held on the twenty-second day of the tenth month in the year of your lord two thousand and fourteen.
And that's all I got from that issue of Glamour. I didn't read about Hillary Clinton's hard-earned lessons. I didn't find out what the most-asked sex questions of 2014 were. I didn't get 1001 updates to my fall fashion. I didn't get me that raise. I didn't read anything else in the September 2014 issue of Glamour other than the piece on Olivia Wilde, and that's a problem. Sure Glamour isn't geared toward me, a thirty-one year old male video game nerd, but, even among the magazines that are geared toward me, I only read ones with articles that are about people and things that I am already interested in, and that only occurs only every so often. I look at the newsstands and see a sea of things that I just am not interested in. From GQ to Maxim to Pro Wrestling Illustrated, I just don't care.
I don't really have an ending for this. Hey look a kittie!
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