READ THIS.

John Doe Magazine has been people for over a decade now. From launch ramps, to Rolexes, to gold teeth. No glitter here--just the good old Feces Faces, interviews with pros that ask the same questions like "Have you ever been to Cheyenne, WY?" Or "Have you heard of my friend Juice?", and interviews with up and corning bands. Did I mention fits and ass, hessians, drug use, arid skating? Lots ot skating. But what makes this 'zine really shine is Rich Johnson's stick-it-up-your-ass sarcastic sense of humor. White trash never looked so good. www.geocities.com/johndoezine

John Doe Magazine; what do I think of it? It sucks. It is the lamest piece of Xeroxed shit I have ever been associated with. Anything that prints pieces of shit in a toilet, or asks one of our friends' dad stupid questions and prints them, is retarded. John Doe Magazine is just a big fucking waste of time. I can't believe that still write stuff and do off the wall things for this piece of trash. So don't read John Doe Magazine, unless you to see pieces of shit, crappy or porn site-copied photos. But we're pretty damn proud of it, even though it just flat out sucks.

The exceptional tale of John Doe began in a rather ordinary fashion. It all started in Cheyenne, WY in the year 1989 with Rich Johnson and Juice. If you haven't heard of Rich and his friend Juice, don't worry--you will soon. Rich got the idea to start making a 'zine after Juice ripped up his dad's Hustler collection and produced the one and only issue of PSB 'zine. Rich made sure everyone in this shitty world saw his shitty 'zine about our shitty little town. To date Rich has made around 250 issues of John Doe, and you still haven't heard of it. Then again, who the tuck are you? Love, Mackenzie...

So school's cancelled, you can't skate; don't touch the TV. Seriously. Video games are just tire weakest ever. Grab those stacks of photos you took while skating and at shows all summer. Write a couple paragraphs about how all new bands suck. Make a list of all the pros who don't deserve to be. Draw some carnage. Razor blades, glue and magic markers (which by the way smell best when you're stuck in a poorly-ventilated house), a thought in your head; this is all it takes. You'll give your brain a better workout by a 'zine or an art project than you ever could by sitting in that classroom all day. And hey if things start to get a little blurry, put down the knife.