I couldn't remember why I'd stopped reading VICE magazine, when I did a brief stint interning for their marketing company my senior year of college. I picked up an issue and it seemed about right: snarky/sarcastic/elitist humor, politics, fashion and music... it was all still there. But after a provocation led by Street Carnage's' Twitter- I decided to pick up a few of my "archived" copies (in search of these photo's of Lil Kim before she was famous with horrible razor burns on her bikini line, shot by Terry Richardson).
What VICE is missing these days is the beloved (by me) VICE A-Z Guide To: ______. This issue's list was for "Being Totally Crushed Out." Highlights include:
B: Borrowing
Borrow a book or a movie just so you have the excuse to see him again, or even conveniently leave something like a sweatshirt at his house. This is a no-fail plan, because if he sees your sweatshirt lying around, he’ll have to think about you and be reminded of your charm (plus you left pheromones in it). Forced thinking is good, even though it’s commonly known as “mind rape.” Of course, the plan backfires if you decide you don’t like him. Then you have the annoying burden of meeting up. You could then decide in a Zenlike way that it’s “just a sweatshirt” and leave it as a relic for him to pine over forevermore.
M: Mix Tape Alert!
Do not make a mix tape for someone you have not fooled around with yet (said in an “emergency, emergency” robot voice). If she has a boyfriend and you are just courting her, she will put on the tape and they will lie in bed listening to “Ne Me Quittez Pas” and laughing their fucking asses off. You know that Grant Hart song “All of My Senses”? Imagine her and her boyfriend toking a one-hit and killing themselves when he goes, “Without you I’m abuuuuuusing, all of my sensee-eees.” You might as well have a hidden camera in your toilet that broadcasts to Times Square.
and last but not least-
R: Recognize
This is the doozy. The whole article could be about this, but Lesley always wants to do the A–Z thing so we have to stick it here.
Getting seen and seeing your crush is 99 percent of the game. Stopping by his place of work looking hot and casual like you didn’t know you’d end up there. Talking on your cell phone and pretending not to see him. Walking around in his ’hood is exciting and a lot more fun than jonesing for him sitting at home. It multiplies your chances of “accidentally” bumping into him (“Oh hey, what’s up?”). You just happen to be freshly scrubbed, with subtle makeup and the perfect cute outfit that is way hard to put together (usually involves Chuck Taylors and tight pants that make your ass look juicy and pert).
Of course, if you go to a bar where he’s supposed to be and he’s not there, it is a fucking bum-out. You wasted your cute look and you can’t use it again.
Boys are funny when they have a crush and she shows up at the bar. He’s not paying attention to any conversations because he’s looking at the door and then he goes, “She’s here!” when she walks in, like his friends are commandos and they’re going to start getting into position to help maximize his chances. What does he think they’re going to do, flank her? They don’t give a shit, you boob.
oh wait!! T: Telling Everyone in the World
This is fucking stupid but you do it anyway. Sometimes the obsession is too out-of-control, and once you’ve told one person you’re not really great friends with, you may as well tell them all. This might work because he likes you too and how would he have known if people hadn’t told him? It also may blow up in your face, because (and I know this is weird) sometimes a crush is best from afar and you don’t want it to be true. Like catching a lightning bug in a jar. Wait a minute, lightning bugs are cool to look at in a jar.
That one is really my favorite. I can't get my lips shut about anything and I'm okay with that. Secrets are damn near useless.
I've definitely been listening to Good Charlotte for hours. Reading these copies of VICE that I acquired in high school, and subsequently finding photos of myself from high school wedged in between the pages has me in a state of nostalgia. Sweet Saturday.
the full VICE article can be found Here.
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