I was at the grocery store the other day when I saw it: The Special Collector’s Edition of People Magazine’s coverage of the birth of William and Kate’s second child. Oh. My. God. I got so excited I was shaking.

First I bought a pair of rubber gloves and put them on so when I handled the magazine none of my body’s oils would transfer to the heavy gloss paper. I pulled the magazine out of its holder slowly. Unfortunately I grazed the right side on the metal casing as I pulled it out so I let it drop back into place. I had to go to the second magazine in the stack. This time I achieved a clean pull from the container, gingerly holding my treasure in the palms of my latex-covered hands.

Not trusting the cashiers, I went through one of the self-checkout lines. After scanning my masterpiece I laid it gently onto a scented towel I had put down on the aluminum shelf. I paid, and rather than using one of the store’s plastic bags I carefully slid my prized possession into a steel-encased strong box lined with three layers of velvet topped with a satin sheet. I locked the box and was finally ready for the trip home.

In the car I sat the strong box on the passenger seat on top of several goose-down pillows, strapping it in place with a dozen bungee cords. I then covered this whole structure in an enclosure I had constructed of PVC pipe and sheets of raw iron ore. Finally it was time to go home. I signaled the lead car in my procession and after he pulled into traffic I followed along with our trail car.

Once in my driveway I was quickly transported from my car into a hermetically sealed Plexiglas tunnel I had built by engineers from the Jet Propulsion Laboratory. The tunnel kept germs and bacteria off of my collector’s edition between the car and my front door. When I walked through the door a local exterminating company had erected plastic sheeting over my walls, floors and ceiling. Walking forward at approximately 10 microns per second so I didn’t jostle the magazine in the strong box, it was about 4:30 a.m. when I arrived at my bedroom.

I sat the box on the bed surrounded by a contingent of Australian black-ops mercenaries armed with Beretta LTLX7000 shotguns. While they stood guard I unlocked my cherry wood cabinet that was specially built by Norm Abrams and Bob Vila to house my entire collection of People Magazine Special Editions. I opened one of the glass shadow boxes in preparation. Back over to the bed, I unlocked the strong box and removed the magazine using a pair of tungsten tongs covered in anti-bacterial cloth. I moved carefully to the display case to lay the newest addition to my collection in its home. Then I locked the shadow box and turned on the spotlight.

Finally, I locked the display case door, engaged the motion detectors and 120 decibel alarm siren and stationed two armed guards at either side of the case. I haven’t slept in days. I just keep staring at my new collector’s edition. It’s nestled snugly between People’s Collector’s Edition #345 detailing the practical jokes George Clooney played on Julia Roberts during the filming of Ocean’s 11 including farting onto her head during a pivotal scene, and edition #403 in honor of James Cameron’s marriage to his enormous ego complete with pictures of the $300 million chapel he had built for the occasion.

People Magazine Collector’s Editions: perfect for birthday gifts, wedding gifts, Christmas presents, starting fires in the wilderness, wiping your bum after dropping a deuce, rolling home-made cigarettes, stupid blog entries . . .