Mr. Sleaze

Mr. Sleaze
Greetings from Sleazeville, USA! Out with the old, in with the lewd! Welcome to Mr. Sleaze: the only cyber magazine that matters and the only one willing to write about what's really important to non-thinking Americans. And what, you may ask, exactly is Mr. Sleaze? Truly, it is many things. An attitude: That the shallow and unevolved among deserve their own web page just like anybody else. A philosophy: that anything not worth doing is worth not doing well. A committment: To seek out and publicize all that is base and shameful in human experience. But more than anything Mr. Sleaze is an odor: a thick, purulent vile stench unleashed upon our readers as we scavenge our way through the landfill of popular culture. Our goal is simply the total annihilation of all that is beautiful and sacred. Come join us in the fun!

Now I would like to close with a moment of Group Total Brain Death. Please turn off your television---just for a short moment---and open your minds to chapter 16, verse 11 of the Book of Sleaze. Now ponder the words of our founder, Ebeneezar B. Sleaze, in this excerpt from his appearance on the Jennie Jones Show:

"...and for those Seekers of the Sleaze, where can you find me? Merely turn on your television and you will find me, scouring the globe to find and publicize the worst that is within us. Pen in hand, smirk on face, carrying thick wads of payoff money in the endless search for the base and corrupt. And just as Sleaze is everywhere, so too will I be. Any time a politician engages in non-marital marital relations you will find me, counting the thrusts and measuring the busts. Skipping church to worship instead at the local Nudie Bar? Avert your lusty gaze for a moment and you will find me---my camcorder and I will give you the lap dance of a lifetime. Stare fixedly into the abyss of modern culture and you will find me. Jump into that abyss and again you will find me, crawling naked through the Pond of Endless Scum searching, endlessly searching, for the Gospel of Gossip. Waddle your way through the Pond Of Endless Scum to the Black Hole of Media Ethics and you will find me, dancing on the grave of Edward R. Murrow. Then and only then can you enter the Kingdom of Sleaze."