Cosmo Girls

I was leafing through a Cosmopolitan magazine this afternoon. I've now discovered that it's a good way to gather intelligence on the fairer sex to see what the NY editors are telling them to think, do, say.

Cosmo gives me a good laugh. Most of their stories are made up, and virtually none of them are based on fact. That doesn't stop them from spewing all kinds of random drivel about important topics like prom dresses, hair dye, and orgasms.

Cosmo is the answer to any question involving the battle of the sexes. Women may claim that men are pigs and that we only have sex on the brain, but one look at Cosmo puts this argument to the test. Men may have Playboy and a few skin mags, but women have an entire magazine library to choose from when it comes to questions involving the libido.

Here are the headlines from Cosmo's most recent issue. See what you think each has in common, then tell me if women don't think about sex once every ten seconds.

THE BLENDED ORGASM: So Deep, So Strong. How You Can Have One Tonight.

WHAT MAKES A MAN FALL IN LOVE.

YOU SEX GODDESS! Crazy-Ass Moves He Wants You to Do to Him There.

4 THINGS ALL GUYS KEEP PRIVATE.

YOUR GYNO'S SECRET THOUGHTS ABOUT YOUR SEX LIFE.

HOW TO STAY SAFE: 5 PLACES SEXUAL PREDATORS LOOK FOR WOMEN.

Excuse me? According to Cosmopolitan magazine, the women are the predators.

Now, before Gloria Steinem writes in to tell me that it's men who have forced women to write and talk about this stuff, give me a break. It's women that write the magazine and women that buy it. If they truly didn't like what was in there, they wouldn't buy the thing. The way publishing is these days, 3 months of low sales would close Cosmo down. But it doesn't happen, and so the presses keep churning it out.

Men don't force women to look at themselves as sex objects. I have never told a woman to call someone 'trashy' for wearing a short skirt, nor have I ever agreed with a woman that she should go home and change if she sees someone at a nightclub wearing a similar sweater. These are female thoughts and female decisions. It is mothers and sisters that reinforce these opinions on growing girls. Last time I checked, mothers and sisters are women.

Anyway, I leafed through the latest Cosmo and found this bit:

"Scientists recently have discovered that men thrust deeper when they suspect infidelity. The move dates back to prehistoric times, when men spent their days hunting, meaning another dude could move in on their mates. Deeper thrusting was their way of trying to squeegee or vacuum out a rival's sperm."

Huh?

Whoever wrote this needs to have their head examined. Apparently the source was some egghead at Florida Atlantic University, with "analysis published in BJU International Journal."

All right, somebody's kidding somebody. I don't know what BJU stands for, but with analysis like this, I can guess where the B and the J come from. Playboy might seem too sexual for the feminists amongst us, but at least you don't find the word "squeegee" anywhere near the centerfold.

Let's dissect this breaking news. First, the part about scientists "discovering" that men thrust deeper when they suspect infidelity. I don't know what kind of grants they're handing out at Florida Atlantic University. I only know that if enough teenage boys read this article while waiting at the dentist's office, FAU's enrollment is going to skyrocket.

How did the scientists go about testing this theory? "Bob, your wife's in the next room. Go to it. By the way, the mailman just left out the back door."

Are we to believe that Bob then walked into the bedroom, banged his wife six ways from Sunday, and that his wife later reported, "He whispered that he thought I was cheating. It was the best I ever had."

When I was studying anthropology back in the old days, we discovered a lot of things about preliterate cultures, but never did we hear this kind of trash. There is absolutely no way that anyone can prove that this bunk is true (that's what prehistoric means: pre-history; nobody was writing things down, in crummy magazines or anything else). Yet the editors of Cosmo throw it in as a stunning revelation, complete with footnotes.

Think about that: first, they're saying that prehistoric women sat around waiting to screw the losers that weren't invited on the hunting trip. Then they're saying that prehistoric man knew that sperm had anything to do with sex (a sophisticated leap, not quite believed by many island populations in the early 20th Century). Then they're saying that prehistoric man thought his penis was a sponge, and that he could use it to soak up another man's semen. Leap forward a few thousand years, and Cosmo tells every wife in America that if their husband gives them the apocalyptic sex they've always dreamed of, it means he suspects she's running around.

Great. Thanks, Cosmo. We try to show our ladies a good time and you turn it into another chance for "open dialogue."

A little further on in the article, Cosmo throws in a doozy:

"Men aren't sizing up their partner's body flaws in bed; they're looking at her face to gauge enjoyment."

Since when?

Look, there might be a little truth to that, but don't take it too far. Yes, a man will look at a woman's face to see if she's having a good time, but this is usually when he's down there. Guys can climax in about twenty-five seconds, but it can take women the better part of a baseball game. The guy may be looking at your face to "gauge your enjoyment," but he's probably wondering if you'll reach your magic O before his tongue falls off.

I wonder if the writers and editors of Cosmo ever talk to guys when they're handing out all of this guy-advice. A few pages further into the magazine, Cosmo tells the ladies to "Give him a job. Ask him to fix or build you something. Performing concrete tasks is a way of bonding that enhances his sense of success."

Yeah, right. Thanks again, Cosmo! You've just made everyone's girlfriend the Insta-Nag. For the men reading this, relax. If your girl has asked you to build a desk, paint the kitchen, tune up the car, fix the porch, and mow the lawn all in one afternoon, she's not being a nag. She's just a Cosmo Girl.

Cosmo Girls are incredibly fearsome creatures. Here's another couple of tips from the Cosmo Girl Bible:

"A physical space that's totally his is a huge symbol of independence to a man. Signal that you respect that by, say, staying out of his desk drawers and not peeking at his caller ID when his phone rings."

In other words, don't be a headcase.

"Guys are good at left brain stuff, like sales and sports, but can get awkward when it comes to social graces. Take the lead and charm the people you meet and he'll be extra grateful to you. But he may take credit for making those new friends...whatever."

Yup, poor dumb me. I hope my girlfriend will drag my shy, unsophisticated ass around at the next cocktail party. After I'm done slurping soup and taking the toilet paper off my shoe, maybe she'll even make me some new friends. Lucky to have her.

Cosmo Girls. Heaven help us should they create too many.