A few days ago I got my September/October issue of the magazine, a full five days before the end of the month. Whereas most magazines come weeks before the month they're due, Modern Drunkard comes a month late. Sometimes two.
All part of its charm.
The June/July issue was so late - I finally got it in September - that I thought my subscription had lapsed. Nope. Turns out, publication cycles at Modern Drunkard are taken a lot less seriously than say, the merits of Juicing on the Job.
Of the half dozen or so magazines I actually send a check to and subscribe, I look forward to Modern Drunkard the most. Devoted to the "joys and pains of getting plastered, plowed, bombed, ripped, hammered and blotto" it's always funny and entertaining. And despite not having a writing staff - at least as far as I can tell - it's a damn good read.
The best eulogy I read after Hunter S. Thompson went gonzo one last time and shot himself was written by Modern Drunkard's editor, Frank Rich. Below is a taste. The rest is here.
"There was always a powerful comfort in knowing he was out there somewhere in the night, roaring drunk, guzzling high-octane whiskey and railing against a world amok with complacency and hypocrisy. There was always a weird sense that he could pop up any where at any time to stick it to The Man and set things straight."
And before your next drink, be sure to read the 86 Rules of Boozing. Gems in here, people. Gems.
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