It’s snowing slow, fat snow, which sticks to the trees and the roofs of cars but not to the pavement. The season is changing. Winter is the purple mood ring. Spring is trying to get the ring off your finger after you’ve gone through puberty overnight. I don’t give a shit about that fuck groundhog. Spring is coming like a widow to dinner. 

Here at Land Ark Lit Mag Enterprises LLC., we’ve been frollicing between drinking and television, television and pool halls, pool halls and subway rides, subway rides and the cavernous dripping of the internet’s mouth. The snow is almost floating, suspended in the city smog like fruit in rotten jelly. I go for long walks to hopefully run into some crazy, life changing, one-in-a-million situation that sends me into flawless impulsivity, but instead I find that I never left bed, flickering through my seventeen email addresses, each created to avoid the newsletters offering deals on me. Buy me for cheap. Buy me at 20% off. Get one of me, get another one of me for free. I’m for sale, after all. Always at the right price. Today’s word of the day is “Bargain”. Tomorrow’s is “Melancholy”. S.A.D. stands for “Stinky Artsy Donkeys”. Who the hell could be expected to keep up?

Our team of literary geniuses, that’s who! Just when I think I’m glued to my bed with martini paste, a visit from our prized contributors unsticks me! Issue #24 is a perfect cure for the late winter blues, so read the hell out of it. Kilroy is our theme, matched well with a snoop and a liberal arts student studying abroad. OK! Have fun! Go outside and smell the hot trash! Unlike the snow, you will surely stick, friend-o. 

– Ed.