Prelude to a Lick
by Scott Hefflon
illustrations by Jef Taylor
You may have noticed this is our THIRD ANNIVERSARY ISSUE. Yeah, so we went and put it on the cover, wrote long-winded essays about the trials and undulations, and even reprinted some of our best quotes ever. We had to use the space somehow, right? Next year we’ll probably try a photo montage of gratuitous (and staged) award ceremonies, and various Lollipoparazi shots of our staffers and other people you’ve never heard of before.
And now we come to the part of our program where I sum up the sob story that is the monthly soap opera around these parts. Oh boo hoo. My pain, my pain… Fact is, it’s summertime – I don’t feel like watering down my drink with the tears of self-pity. Also, the convulsions might cause spillage, and I just don’t think I could handle the loss, man. So yeah, my last few Editor’s wanks have been a bit trite, whiny, doomsaying, and just downright depressing. Like sissy-core lyrics. Sorry, ’bout that. I’ve just been tickled pink (a manly, sort of rough around the edges pink, I must add. Harumph!) by routing through 26 issues in a row searching for clever quotes. Chuckle. I’ve been milking the same one-liners, in a dizzying array of mutilations, for almost three years. I need a break.
Have a summer.