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The Madness will in this issue adress the problem of buttonpushing and indeed the buttonpushers themself.

However, as we are sure no one actually reads this stuff - you're all morons and your mothers were all hamsters. O and I believe your fathers smelled of elderberries!

Buttonpushing-lunatics-good-for- nothing-smelly-slightly-retarded- non-readers-of-newspapers-and- magazines-wouldn't-know- comedy-if-it-hit-you-over-the- head-with-a-herring-pushers-with- bad-breath-strong-accents-and- foreignness-sobs-with-no-interest- in-anything-semi-non-interactive- i'll-give-you-buttons-eat-my-shorts.

This month The Madness presents a travelguide to the most obnoxious and pointless place in the imagenary world - Buttonland.

Buttonlands capitol, Buttonopolis, has long been the subject of huge international rivalry and feuds. The majority of these feuds have taken place at the hands of programmers and illiterate people everywhere.

Despite the name, Buttonland is completely without buttons or anything pushable at all. This has always been a deliberate strategy from the state of Buttonland so as to not be typecast.

However, in recent days, the emergence of simple minded computer-programmers and children, Buttonland has seen a steady increase in the amounts of tourists flocking to its barren landscape in search of things to push.

In true Buttonland spirit The Madness runs this entire article with text only and absolutely nothing for the simpletons out there to push. The idea, which also happens to go well with this months button-pushing issue, is that nobody actually reads this stuff - certainly not at the bottom of the page, so we can say pretty much what we want.

Go to Buttonland - It'll tickle your innards!

Text heavy as this piece is, it is now imperative for the writer to fill up as much space as humanly possible, using as many non-related words and issues as possible, just to be able to fill another line of text, which we happen to know really impress and bore the illiterates and programmers who stumble onto this page completely by accident and completely finds their lives not at all affected by its contents.

Buttonopolis' streets are paved with bricks in a fun orange and brown pattern. In fact looking at it, it does look like a bunch of buttons, but let us make it perfectly clear - They are not! they are mere bricks, not to be pushed around. The unfriendly inhabitants are always more then unhelpful in not showing tourists what not to push. Nothing can in fact be pushed.

Pushing is banned in Buttonland, so leave your credit cards and mobile phone at home. You won't need them. after all, in Buttonland, ask and thou shalt receive. However i trust no one has even read this far. If you have, please excuse the ramblings and accept them as a poor attempt at dry-wit and some kind of humour. Next paragraph will be entirely Buttonland related, I promise.

Buttonland have absolutely no sightseeing possibilities, nor have they a fotball field. The smallish country is entirely centred around its might ruler - The flamboyant, Tim the slightly flatulent. His presence can be felt all over the country. His eyes watching through "smart" posters which follow you around to make sure you don't push anything. Tim is actually a computer programmer gone mad. ceaselessly pushing away infront of a computer screen pushed him over the edge and drove him to found the completely nonsenseical imagenary land og Buttonland