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This email arrived late yesterday:

Maxim's latest issue marks a "relaunch" of the brand as more of a men's lifestyle magazine, and yet the offices have reverted to a lifestyle akin to living in a frat house. It's only a matter of time before the male staff resorts to pissing in the sinks and the women begin filling up empty beer bottles with urine. No one's been able to use the restrooms for 2 1/2 hours and there's no hope of functional facilities tomorrow morning either.

Just got this internal email:

"The building is still working on the problem with the water pressure that is affecting the building. Do not use the bathrooms until we send an email out stating it is okay for you to use. This includes when you come in tomorrow morning."

Needless to say, workers are pissed.


Word this morning from an inside Maxim source is that the plumbing is "maybe" fixed. "It's not clear," the source says. "I don't think they're officially fixed, but they could be fixed." This either an unexpected Dennis Publishing philosophical paradox — Schrödinger's toilet? — or else the simple recognition that you can't really tell what's going on when you're knee-deep in your own shit.