Cosmopolitan: Just Kill Me.

by thethreepennyguignol

Firstly, I’m not offering any excuses for finding myself so frequently on the Cosmopolitan magazine website. Like my quiet enjoyment of prawn cocktail crisps and porn parodies, it’s simply not something I can even begin to defend on any kind of intellectual level, save for to laugh at the spelling errors and awful writing which make this blog look like The Origin of Species by comparison. A publication built on a precarious tower of articles about celebrity hair, attempts at serious journalism and blowjob tips, it essentially summates to an Amnesty International flyer with a crudely drawn cock scrawled on it in lipstick. After several deeply taxing visits to Blowjob Central, I’ve compiled a list of reasons why none of us should ever return. Be warned.

1. The across-the-board comedy dating advice.

Think about the last person you dated, or slept with, or got to second base with outside a pub in the drizzling rain. Chances were they weren’t hewn from molten sexy in the fires of Mount Take Me Now (myself excluded, but then I’ve never settled for anything less than a ripped Adonis hung like a rhino on steroids). So can you imagine “pretending to fall against him, then saying “Wow, your pecs are so hard it’s like falling against a wall””? The likelihood of that being even slightly believable are lower only than the chances of not accidentally faceplanting when you “pretend to fall” on him. Fuck’s sake.

2. They use too many distracting euphemisms for vagina.

Fanny. Hoo-ha. Ladybits. Not only do these all sound like potential Americas Next Top Model contestants, but beg the sentence I hoped I’d never have to say again: stop trying to sugar coat your genitals. Call a vag a vag and be done with it.

3. They relate everything to Fifty Shades of Grey.

Like a demented labyrinth built by a madman that only leads to one conclusion, the Cosmo staff have been squawking hysterically over the book in every article since it’s release. Find your Christian Grey! Spend £318 on nipple clamps! Jiggle balls! Jiggle balls! JIGGLE BALLS! Yes, what was once a throwaway joke on Scrubs has now become the crest of a sexual wave that Cosmo is surfing with one hand down it’s wetsuit. Terrific.

4. The writing is dire.

“…and have an orgasm that is both intense and powerful!” No, you can’t just use a synonym to bulk up your word count. It might look like bastard nitpicking and it is; but this is one of the most internationally recognizable women’s magazines in the world. They could at least write like professionals and spell things correctly. “God, Lou, you look peaky, sick, nauseous and additionally under the weather!” “Probably all this fucking Cosmo”.

Now, run away and never look back.