Tomorrow is now in possession of a Ouija board. We’re on deadline, so we’ll be spending the weekend pressing our fingers to the planchette and divining our magazine copy through the ideomotor effect. Also, summoning the ghost of Brad Renfro and determining which of our sixth grade crushes we’re going to marry (what ever happened to Jeremy Kozoil, anyway?).
Want a direct line to the Tomorrow Mag collective unconscious? Ask us anything!