Saturday, 10 January 2009

The new Cosmo is out! I bought it as soon as I saw it and I can't wait to read the whole thing oh boy... I mean, boo! Boo. We don't like Cosmo. It's very bad. Boo.

Man, there must be a lot of perfume samples in this one, it's really smelly.

Guys don't want you to be one of those overly giggly chicks, but they do want you to think they're funny. Laughing at a man's jokes makes him feel good and proves you're carefree.
If he's funny, I won't be able to help laughing. If he's not, I won't be able to fool him. And I don't think it would be a good idea to try.

["Cosmo's advice for your man"]
Believe it or not, picking up the dry cleaning and changing the oil could get you laid.

I guess. You know what else could get you laid? Showing up to my place

Well, yeah. But also:

Showing up to my place in a leather jacket and tight white t-shirt and greeting me with a kiss that's a hell of a lot more than a "honey-I'm-home," asking permission with your eyes before pushing me to the wall right there in the hallway and pressing your body against mine with little gasps from both our lips as your hands run up under my shirt and you kiss like you'd swallow me whole and grab a fistful of my hair and arch my neck back and whisper in my ear exactly what you're going to do...

You'll get a lot more and better sex for being sexy than you will for acting like it's your allowance for doing the chores.

When your guy isn't home, stash an especially racy pair of panties in his underwear drawer (claim later that it was the result of an innocent laundry mix-up). The next time he opens it to pick out boxers, he'll be greeted by your suggestive underthings... and no doubt want to locate their owner immediately.
If we're sharing laundry, doesn't that mean he sees my undies all the time anyway? Oh right, this is 1953, so he never troubles himself with the laundry, he's too busy killing mastadons for the family.

Moaning or taking a deep, lusty breath as soon as you feel him inside you--or letting him know how good he feels--will enhance the moment for him tenfold.
That's great, except for one thing: being penetrated really does make me gasp. I'm not enhancing things for him, I'm actually feeling it. I mean, I'm not an actor creating an experience for him, I'm having sex too here! It's one thing to enjoy all the little noises and squirms that good sex produces in me, it's another for me to coldly and deliberately produce them. That's just... whorish. It's the kind of thing you do if you're being paid to make the experience all about him. It's not what you do when you're doing it for both of you.

I guess if you're the kind of person who enjoys it but has to consciously let themselves moan, then it's a good idea to remember to? That's a lot more reasonable, but it's not really what the article said; it's not saying to loosen your inhibitions, it's saying to script yourself to sound like you have. Feh to that.

Q: My boyfriend is usually sweet, but every so often, he acts like a jerk. He also has the smallest penis I've ever seen. I often wonder if that's what gets him so mad. Could something like that affect a guy's personality?
Girlfriend Of The Year contender? "Aww honey, I know you're only mad because you have a tiny cock!" (Also, I wonder if the unedited version of this letter included the phrase "my boyfriend BOB SMITH has the smallest penis I've ever seen.")

There's an article about how your man's choice of hotdog toppings shows you his true personality. Wow. (Ketchup and mustard: laid-back. Sauerkraut: traditional. Chili: extroverted. The works: curious. So, uh, now you know.)

The annoying bummer about throwing a party is paying for it--alcohol is expensive! Here's a trick that allows you to save. Make a batch of punch, so you control how much liquor you put in.
I guess I'm just going to have to drink more of it. (Seriously, if you're poor go BYOB, go to the liquor store with a friend and split the cost, or put out a "booze contributions" kitty. The shame of admitting your poverty is far less than the shame of watered-down drinks.)

"When random dudes at bars see you clearly taking a photo, why do they stand there looking dumb instead of walking away? I don't want to see you when I look at my pics later!"
I don't know, perhaps he didn't understand that the entire establishment was your private studio, Princess.

If we were friends, I'd warn you: don't sleep with a guy on the first date. It tells him you're not top-shelf. And we want top-shelf.
Well, then I'm glad we're not friends, because I don't live on a fucking shelf.

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