Dear Subscribers, Dear Spugians,
I bet you’ve been wondering where the heck we went, and why your subscription money was being spent on the purchasing of donuts instead of this magazine’s publication, well, wonder no more. We’re here! For now… we’re back.
But what exactly did happen to Spugnacious? Linda from Missouri asked in her recent Letter to the Editor. Adding, You’re not publishing anything! I want my money back. Followed by, There’s a bug in my ear. It crawled into my eardrum while I was sleeping and all I can hear is tickety, tickety, tick. Followed by, Help!
Well, Linda (whom is Glinda from Missouri’s sister, whom is another writer of many letters to our esteemed Editor-in-Chief BB Haberdash. BB, a man whom, although rumors would have you believe otherwise, is not just a shell of a human being). Well, Linda, here’s what happened:
Like most magazines that sink into a clinical depression (like Vogue and Cosmo etcetera) we receded into a restless, self-loathing slumber. At times the sadness became so overwhelming, the pain so great, that we could not even reach for the donut box. Yes, Linda, in those darkening days we could not even bring ourselves to place a sugary confectionary treat against our chapped lips. Can you even imagine that?
Those were the darkest days of our magazines short history (except of course for that time our Editor-and-Chief BB Haberdash was accused of killing that Clown. Note: He has since been acquitted of the murder). “Dark days are those when a Donut cannot be lifted to ones lips.” This is our mantra, our truth, here at Spug. (Side note: We don’t cover real news. If you’re looking for real news try OK! Magazine.)
Somehow we survived the depression.
Somehow we’re back.
But how? Glinda, Linda’s sister wants to know. She also wrote us a letter.
Well, Glinda, here’s how we pulled ourselves up by the bootstraps, finagled our way out of the slippery underworld of a very minor, teensy depression.
We owe our way out of this donut-less haze, this incy-wincy sadness, to a cult leader named Bob. Yes, Glinda you’ll be pleased to know that Bob the cult leader saved us. Hearing we had stockpiles of subscribers’money lying around, Bob offered to help us find our way back to Donuts for only a mere donation to his Church of the Money Makers of only 200,000 dollars. His help cost Spugnacious every cent. But it was worth it because we recovered from what we now think might just have been laziness and not a depression at all.
So thanks, Bob. Shout out to Bob.
And so in a nutshell, in a peanut, in a shortening…
And, we’re broke.
So, please donate anything you can. Five hundred dollars, a million dollars, there is no donation too small, that is, unless that donation is under five hundred dollars.
BB Haberdash and Spug’s Editorial Team
Any Spug will tell you that BB has a commanding presence. According to a new study, only 3% of our population fulfills the criteria of a true leader. BB is almost one of those 3%. In 2008, The New Fork Times witnessed BB’s almost-greatness for themselves in an exclusive interview with our ringmaster. It’s our pleasure to announce that after many years pursing this in the court system we have finally received the rights to re-publish what has become “that interview” by so many of our subscribers.Get ready, get set, you gotta read this.
The drinks were chill. BB greeted me at the door with a classic Sazerac cocktail. He’d acquired the absinth during a recent jaunt in the Netherlands. Formal as ever, BB and I sat on a couch rumored to have once belonged to Andy Warhol. While the ambience was charming, even decadent, the elephant in the room was apparent and unsettling. It had taken NFT nearly a decade to procure this interview. As many of our readers know, BB has been in hiding since 1998 when Spugnation 1.0, now back with a vengence as the newly improved “Spugnacious,” was sued by numerous magazines for stealing material. He’s finally decided to break the silence as contributors are riling over alleged copy-write infringements that just might pull the rug out from ‘Spug’.
“BB, how did you feel when Newsweek approached former Spugnacious Editor in Chief, Ricky Sarbotious, stating Spug had virtually copied and pasted their life and style column?
“Everything is virtual. It’s a virtual magazine.”
“No, virtual in the sense of literal…”
“Of course. Gotcha,” long pause, “I was upset. I was mortified. I was drunk.”
“What was that?”
“I didn’t have a lot of time to process things; alcohol, or anything.”
“What did you do?”
“I got out of bed. I called Spug I told them to cut it and to shut down all Spugnation 1.o operations. Of course they wouldn’t give up so easily, not like me, and that’s why we’re who we are today: Spugnacious.”
“And what exactly does ‘Spugnacious’ mean to BB?”
“Spugnacious is a noun. It is a thing. Spugnatory is the verb. It means to inquire about other things, specifically the formal analysis of time and space.”
“But critics say Spugnacious is just another Spugnation, and readership has plummeted while grammatical errors are on the rise. What’s your opinion on the recent heat?”
“It’s getting hot in here, and that’s fo sho, but on the whole, Spugnacious’ in it’s twighlight hour, is really taking off. We’ve still maintained at least 5o subscriptions.”
“…along with the infamous Glenda from Missouri.”
“We appreciate Glenda.”
“Rumour has it…”
“That she’s your mother.”
“But what would you say to her, and the rest of your readership, if you knew they were reading this now?”
“We’ll make it through the storm, we’ve just gotta run real fast cause the tornado’s coming.”
Ever the poet, we ended things there. As BB walked me to the door, I felt a promising Spug story on the way. A story that could beat the odds. A story that would pull us through.