We Read The Weeklies
...late!
Last week the Guardian left the Weekly in the dust -- and we left the Express out of it, much to the irritation of certain New Times employees. Let's see how this week shakes out, shall we?
Hello, medical marijuana! SFist Jackson explained the pot supply chain to us at the Ha-Ra one Saturday afternoon, and though we like Ann Harrison just fine, we wish she'd tapped him for some (ahem) secondary research. Are Mills Corp's intentions for the YMCA less than pure? Ya think? Tim Redmond explains why the New Times (who owns the Weekly) shouldn't be allowed to buy the Village Voice.
Awww, electrifying a Geo Metro! Annalee thinks drugs should run free, like the little bunnies in the forest. Is it wrong to whip your ex-boss? We're more interested in the bodily harm we can do to our present boss (just kidding, work people! LOVE!). This is the last week we refer to "it" as Dan. 8 Days features friend (fiend?) of SFist Jill Tracy (we like our picture of her better). Oh god Lit? Rita, how do you do this? But comics are cool. Apparently we're doing a great job, and our boyfriend is a fashion don't. Both accurate!
Here's the Weekly, which is really going to have to suck to lose again this week, we feel that bad for them. Horsey! Rose Dennis goes oddly bitchcakes on Matt Smith. (Both stories we've read so far have crapping in them, but we're cool with that.) Infiltrator gets hired for all sorts of janky jobs, which gives us hope for when we get fired for making that joke about wanting to beat up out boss. Spooky music this weekend. We want Katy St. Clair to be our friend -- we totally would have told her that her boobs were hanging out. Call us!
And now for the Express (you freakin' HAPPY, "Saint Ruthless"?) Playing 2 buck poker with James Bond. We ice our wrist from all the page turning that you have to do when a publication craps ads all over a feature, and go back to pondering if the women's health clinic vandalism is from anti-choicers or just non-partisan asshole vandals. All night BART is fun! Wasn't there a Smirnoff Ice commercial like this? Buying cool clothes in the East Bay. Finally, we note that the women who perform"adult massage" in the East Bay seem way hotter than the ladies of the SF pubs.
The winner? The Weekly, and not just out of pity. It was definitely slimmer and less content-heavy than the Guardian, but we really liked Tommy Craggs's cover story on Lost in the Fog, and Harmon's and Katy's pieces were just so godamn funny.
Rita, they all miss you, we can feel it. Come back to read the weeklies soon!