Monday, June 27, 2005

The Only Kind of Cosmo I Like Has Vodka In It

hi, my name is jelly and i am an addict. i am powerless over my addiction. i cannot stop buying magazines. i will buy almost any magazine. lured by the glossy covers and promises of exclusive interviews, i go into a fugue state at the newsstand and can easily spend $50 on magazines in one day. i do subscribe to a few, namely Entertainment Weekly and US. those are my guilty pleasures and they arrive every friday. they are like a little present to me, a "hey, jelly, you made it thru the week without slapping anyone and getting arrested! CONGRATS! as your reward, here are 4 more pics of lindsay lohan's anorexically thin thighs. YOU ROCK!" gift. and you most certainly don't want to be around me if they arrive a day late. i can pout for a solid hour just because my weekly dose of britney's bump is 24 hours behind schedule.

other magazines i love and buy like clockwork are Glamour, Bust and Allure. i don't really care for Marie Claire too much, though. while most of the articles are good, every single month there is some hugely depressing article on 12 year olds getting cliterdectomies in tanza-botswa-stani. yeah, yeah, yeah, i know these are important issues that need to be brought to the public's attention, but i feel weird getting all idignant over that, then flipping the page and going, "OOOHHHH! look at the new self tanners! i gotta try those." it just reminds me how shallow i really am.

but there is one magazine that i just can't bring myself to buy. it is the most vapid, inane trite piece of crap ever. yes, you know i am talking about Cosmopolitan. i read it for a few years in my late teens/early 20's until one day, i had the Cosmo Epiphany. it's the same magazine month after month after month. the articles NEVER change, just the pictures. whoever publishes this is a freakin' genius. i mean think about it. they rotate out the same 20 articles. they never have to do any actual work. i imagine the Cosmo offices are deserted 29 days out of the month. then one day, the 2 staffers come in, rearrange the pics and text, and voila! July's issue is done. it's brilliant, really.

every month, the headlines on the cover promise 10 SHOCKING SEX SECRETS THAT WILL ROCK YOUR WORLD!! you know what the secret is? are you sitting down for this? men like blow jobs. I KNOW! you could have knocked me over with a feather. that's information worth paying $3.99 for.

then there is the monthly exercise and diet program that promises to get your body bikini ready in 2 weeks. the only thing that would get my body bikini ready in 2 weeks is a 2 week bout of food poisoning. even then, AT BEST, i MIGHT be ready for a tankini.

the "why don't you section" never fails to make me roll my eyes all the way into the back of my head. they offer super duper helpful tips on how to be the BEST YOU THAT YOU CAN BE. shaving my pubes into a heart shape does not make me a better person, i am fairly positive. i might make me a nicked and bloody person, though. hell, i can barely draw a heart with a pen and paper and i supposed to sculpt my bikini line into a topiary? that's just an accident waiting to happen.

hey, but then, i would have a story to submit to the "embarassing moments" section! those so-called confessions are such bullshit. i mean REALLY! how many girls do you know that have been caught having sex on their in laws antique dining room table? by the family priest? according to Cosmo, it seems to happen like clockwork.

these girls must be the same idiots that write into the "relationship questions" column.
"dear cosmo,
my boyfriend has a large gay porn collection and will only have sex with me if i am wearing a police officer's uniform. he also has a large collection of broadway showtunes. do you think he's gay?
signed,
confused in columbus

dear confused,
he's not gay. he's just REALLY REALLY REALLY in touch with his feminine side."

they also offer cutting edge relationship advice. did you know men don't like high maintenance women? did you know that men like to think they are in control? oh, and in case it didn't sink in the first 300 times they printed the article, men like blow jobs. take note.

they really should just be honest and rename the magazine You Are A Raging Moron and We Are Ripping You Off for Another $4 This Month.