Dear Weekly Dig,
It has been over three months now since I left you, but I still love you. I used to love picking you up out of the most awkward newspaper box/venus fly trap arm eater at the UMB Shuttle Bus T-Stop at JFK/U-Mass early on Wednesday mornings, haggard, needing decaf coffee, and sinking into the pleasure of reading you page by page on a bumpy 10 minute bus ride before having to abandon you. Then I treasure our time together either on the 41 bus or the red line-to-orange line connection. The time spent in the filthy Downtown Xing station, listening to keyboards being mangled, nasty ass popcorn being devoured and seeing the re-birth of SARS, was made more pleasant by you. I laughed, I gasped, I cried, I circled you dillegently.
You were my inspiration. I knew what was up b/c I had you. I used as my little guide to New England life. When I despaired there was nothing to do, I fondled you, read you intently, and compiled emails to friends cut+pasted from your website. Apparently other people caught onto your charm, and events featured in your 7 days a week centerfold started to get overbooked and filled and I would mutter "DAMN YOU DIG", the hypocrite I am.
I've known you a long time. I remember reading you near Park Street at Curious Liquids in the basement, there was a picture of a rubber chicken being chocked and most of your articles were about weed. Oh, how you have grown.
I used to love your filthy crossword puzzles. I won your crossword contest once and got a big gift certificate to Grand Opening! (WOO HOO) and signed picture of your CrossLord with the inscription "Hang this in your favourite masturbating spot"!!!
Oh, how I love your Emily Flake! And Dan Savage returned! And I hate those pretentious Beer Guys (but yet I love their Beerfest!)! But there have been rocky times, Weekly. There was that time I went to that art and music fund raiser thingy at the Roxy? A year or two back? And I noticed you had NOT ONE female artist there. And I thought that was just pathetic. I talked to people at the booth, but they looked like I was crazy. That is a serious problem. There should have been women artists there, and you know it. That is just lazy.
Also...the covers. How unoriginal to keep putting literally naked women on it? How lame? Oh, sure, once in a while. But there was that one of two young women in their panties (yeah it was a drawing), and I wanted to throw up. Guys, your covers are KID EYE LEVEL-put your sarcastic immature shittiness aside and fucking figure out it ain't cool to repeatedly show the ladies naked where kids can see it eye level. And where I have to see it. I started ripping off your covers so I wouldn't promote it on the subways (only on my copy-no others-I'm not a facist).
Ok. I had to get that out. I'm sorry, WD. Hey, don't apologize. Just work on it, okay? But one other reason I love you...you are the best pick up line in all of frigid New England: "Excuse me...are you reading the Weekly Dig?" IT IS FUCKING GOLD, SON! So innocent. So true. All sexes, genders, orientations, settings, it is GOLDEN and all SYSTEMS GO. Giveitatry.
Oh...I miss you, Weekly Dig. It is nice here all the time, never cold, and I ride my bike or drive here...there isn't any real need for reading materials for non-existant public transportation. But...I still read you every Wednesday on-line. That is how much I miss you.
Love, Bonnie G. read more