Metawankers

In the same way that avian flu might make the genetic jump to human-to-human infection, boys’ wankmags have jumped from fantasy to meta-fantasy. In between the garbage on C4 about flying saucers last night (for third order wankers. What , me? No, no, in my case, I was watching out of intellectual curiosity; as a male Member of Parliament might enter a brothel [they do of course, most working days, but as the other party close of brackets close of brackets.
The advert was for a cars boobs and music weekly, but the theme was that the target wanker was a new man, with a beautiful girlfriend, who lived with him, maybe on a yacht, and he helped her with the housework, every day except Tuesday, when his magazine came out.
I think I got that right.