Letter From The Editor: Fug Is My Co-Pilot

Very late on Saturday night, I received a frantic phone call from Seth, Defamer's tireless, semilegal alien associate editor (we're not sure what a "fuchsia card,' is, but he promises us he has one), in which he babbled something about receiving a "really hot tip" that Angelina Jolie, newly bored with exotic, Third World orphans, was headed to Paris to explore the possibility of purchasing a French baby, and how he felt compelled to hop on the next plane to Charles de Gaulle International Airport to see what he could personally turn up on the developing story. He promised to report his findings when he returns next Monday, then abruptly hung up. He may have been laughing, but I've written that off to the giddiness associated with undertaking such a crucial journalistic mission. God speed, Seth. Leave no black market baby stall unexplored.

In the meantime, I begged Heather Cocks, one half of the genius, bad-fashion-buggering duo behind Go Fug Yourself, to fill Seth's spot for a few days. And because she found my open weeping about my cohort's temporary abandonment equal parts touching and pathetic, she agreed to join me. Be nice to her. I can't afford to lose another one this week.

—Mark