Kitchen Sink
I'm kind of nuts about magazines. Actually, really, certifiably crazy. Recent discussions of limits on airline carry-ons had me freaked out, not so much because of the "danger" of flying, but because people wouldn't be able to bring reading material on the plane. What, no Harper's or New Yorker? No Premiere or EW? No Vanity Fair? No ...shudder... US or In Style? (I mean, the SkyMall catalog may offer fascinatingly useless products like this and this and this, but, seriously, it's no match for news about Suri.)
I live for airport magazine stands. Sure, I'll get my indie magazine fix (Bust, Readymade, Venus, Magnet, etc.) before going to the airport, but nothing can stop me from purchasing whatever horrible rag has the most interesting celebrity gossip (Are Vince and Jennifer finally tying the knot? Will Paris' celibacy pact make her smart enough to get into MENSA?).
If I had too, I could give up all of my trashy, and even my indie magazines, save one. Kitchen Sink.
I think too much, do you?
Seriously, it's the best. Smart reviews of pop culture, music, politics, and comics. And, if you're in the Bay Area, they're always hosting some cool event or another. ANYWAY, go buy yourself a copy, or better yet, subscribe.