I don't read women's magazines. You know, things like Marie Claire, or Cosmopolitan, or Redbook or whatever. I'm not saying they're always completely full of sh*t, but it seems to work out that way more often than not. If I'm lucky, there might be one article of real substance, and the rest of it is beauty advice, celebrity interviews, horoscopes and skinny girls with oversized mouths. The girls in these photos always stand around knock-kneed like they haven't quite learned to use their legs yet, or something. And their boyfriends seem to like to wear makeup.
I don't care about celebrity interviews or celebrities in general. I don't need to hear their opinion and I don't care if they're regular people, too. It's not out of malice or jealousy or anything like that. I just don't give a f*ck.
|Not a single one. -- dominiqs|
I'm perfectly happy to watch a film without knowing every grisly detail of the actors' lives. Knowing too much kinda takes me out of the story. I sit there thinking, "Oh, that's the girl who married So-and-So but cheated with What's His Name and eventually wound up with That Other Guy...before she declared herself Queen of the Desert and ran off barefoot, carrying a spear." I can only concentrate on so many things at once.
The sex tips range from boring, to bizarre, to kinda dangerous. I wouldn't be surprised if they suggested dousing it in hot sauce for an extra kick. Once, they advised me to wrap a necktie around it. As if it's going to a job interview or something.
|So many choices... -- Deror Avi|
I don't need help achieving orgasm, thank you, and no, actually, I've never wondered what he's thinking after sex. I was, in fact, already aware that it's bad manners to get drunk on a first date.
|Not that I've never been tempted. -- Ed Bierman|
If it were just all that, I'd merely lack interest. The thing that makes me hate these magazines is, they make me feel bad about myself. I start out feeling perfectly confident, but by the time I finish, I'm riddled with self-doubt. My clothes are all wrong. My hair looks like shit. I need more makeup. Some part of me is almost certainly fat. I am a failure as a woman.
Accessorize?! F*ck, that means like, jewelry and sh*t, right? Ok, I'll wear earrings. Maybe some eyeshadow, since I'm feeling inspired.
Still not good enough? Fuck off, Cosmo, I'm not reading you anymore.