WHAT CAN YOU DO WITH A BRICK-SIZED VOGUE

I was interested in this piece by Zoe Williams writing in The Guardian overnight because I bought the same issue for Annie in New York but it was too big to carry home!

It's the biggest Vogue ever, this month's American issue. At 840 pages, it is longer than any book I've ever read. The common complaint about such a large publication is that it's all adverts and no copy. It's true that when you flick through it, all you ever come to is a picture of Scarlett Johansson or a Weimaraner. It makes you wonder how people used to flog things before Johanson was born, though the silvery hunting dogs have, of course, been around since the 1800s.
I think it is daft objecting to the preponderance of adverts, since all the non-adverts read like adverts anyway. Would you rather see a picture of an all-purpose German gundog? Why, of course.

What possible use could a person have for a magazine this fat? I guess you could cover it in brown paper and pretend you were reading Herzog, by getting a big fat marker pen and writing Herzog on it. Rip out the Dolce & Gabbana Page of Smell before you get on a bus, though, otherwise fellow passengers might question the availability of scratch'n'sniff editions of Saul Bellow.

In Martin Amis's The Information, Richard Tull ("anti-hero") plays a "hilarious" prank on his nemesis by sending him a copy of the LA Times anonymously, saying "wonderful review", knowing that the paper is so huge, and the man is so vain, he will waste all of Sunday combing through it. Curses, curses!

It so happens that there is a review, and it's on page six, and it is favourable, and all the anti-hero's plans come to naught! You could try this with the ginormous Vogue, maybe send a copy to Plum Sykes and say, "I loved your biting social satire." That will take her a while to find.
You could cut out every picture you found of a Republican and from them make a collage of Jonathan Yeo's face (to find this funny, you need to know the following: Yeo made a collage of George Bush using images from porn mags; Republicans are upset; Yeo is a well-known portraitist; er, that's it).

Still not funny? Sorry. I will devise you some kind of refund. I still have enough Vogue left to make a collage of you out of some Weimaraners, if you send me a passport photo. And, er, that's it. You cannot read this ludicrous publication, and it has no other uses. Poor trees!