I was smoking a Clonakilty Carrot t other day, when I noticed an interesting story on one of the still unsinged pages of the copy of The Guardian which I had used to roll the fabled twelve-skinner.

No tits men s mag gets bum s rush read the headline over a story which revealed how Men s Quest, a politically correct magazine for males, had collapsed through massive lack of interest after just two issues. Just so s you ll know what you missed, the launch issue carried features on prostate cancer and cerebral health while the second and, indeed, final issue ran stories on wine, books and property .
Defeated publisher Angus Kennedy was quoted as saying: It s better to fail at doing something good than succeed at doing something wicked. We stuck to our policy of no bums and tits and it probably finished us off.
A number of thoughts strike the Snortian one about this untimely demise, foremost of which is a concept most accurately expressed by such words as I , won t , say , I , told , you and so . Not far behind is the suspicion that, as a cast-iron sales gambit, All You Need To Know About Prostate Cancer is not exactly on a commercial par with, say, The 100 Sexiest Babes In The World Naked or even Free CD With Every Issue .
Finally, one can t help but muse on the irony that precisely because of its no tits policy, the magazine finally went, well, bust.
But back to Mr Kennedy who is further quoted as saying: It was an antidote to the current offerings of men s magazines great though they are, there didn t appear to be anything for guys in their 30s who had moved on from fast cars, clubbing in Ibiza and downing 20 pints every night to making serious decisions about buying a house and getting married.
Here we see another major flaw in the thwarted editor s thinking the frankly insane notion that swapping a freewheeling lifestyle for a settled one is evidence of moving on . I mean, think about it this: say you win a great competition and have a choice of two prizes, which would you go for: 20 pints of mind-expanding fuzzy foam every night for an indefinite period, a series of fast cars to get you around and snare gorgeous gals, and regular E-fuelled rave-ups in the hedonistic isle of Ibiza OR a three-bed semi in Donaghmede convenient to the local Centra? See? Who wants maturity now?
With the failure of the wimpoid Men s Quest and such puny Irish titles as Patrick and Himself, Sam Snort sees an inviting gap in the market into which he intends to plunge his own gigantic organ.
I refer to The Big And I Mean Really Big Issue (TBAIMRBI for short), a new magazine which will boldly go where no other men s mag has gone before, not least because I m pretty damn sure babes will want to read this too.
Tits and bums? Sure, we ll have lorry loads of em but in what will amount to a radical new concept, no photographs of naked babes will be accepted for publication unless they also feature the magazine s Editor-in-chief in, shall we say, a supporting role. With this hands-on approach, I expect exciting developments in the area of circulation and the magazine should do pretty good too.
Other innovations will include a sex advice column; a monthly cross word (kicking off in issue one with SHITE ); a sex help slot; a bit of sport; a sex therapy series; a bit of art (but not too much); a sex problems page; a bit of oul politics; an illustrated history of sex; and a Spot The Bollox competition in which readers will be invited to place an x on the forehead of a member of one of the houses of the Oireachteas.
Finally, watch out for our great gift free with Issue 1 a fantastic CD entitled The Very Best Of Foghat. Available in stores only on prescription, this collector s item features the anthemic Fog Boogie in short, medium, long and extra-long versions.
May I wish you good reading and good listening!
Your ever-lovin Samuel J. Snort Esq.