Cosmo's advice on what to do with ice-pops, and Maxim on "hate sex."
Each month like clockwork, men's and women's magazines hit the newsstands, bursting with terrible sex and dating advice. And each month, we pick out the worst tips and mock them for your edification.
It's December, friends, and that means this prodigal son is making a pilgrimage home, courtesy of the American aviation industry. This month's Ridiculous Tips is an official member of the mile-high club.
Before we should get started, I'd like to take a moment to dedicate this column to Doug, my seatmate, a sturdy Midwestern chap whose stoic willingness to hold my whiskey while I highlight passages from Cosmopolitan and giggle to myself has made this entire endeavor possible. A special mention also belongs to Dan the flight attendant, for being so liberal with said whiskey.
The new year is upon us — but not much has changed. The men's and women's magazines of the world are up to their old tricks: lies, tomfoolery, and the criminal abuse of dessert products.
Cosmopolitan
The flagship sex article this month is about kink — or, as Cosmo would have it, "kink-lite" (because, at your cores, you ladies are all sweet pure little virgins who'd never actually do anything "kinky" — not like those nasty boyfriend-stealing beyotches out there). Plus, spelling words out is so totally frust.
"Kinky-lite sex moves guys love"
"Trying a naughty new technique on your man can be tricky — uh, did he just make an O face or an OMG, WTF face?… To help you hit the sweet spot, we surveyed men online to get their take on a ton of naughty moves."
Nothing says "trustworthy" like "online survey." I wouldn't trust an online survey tell me what Harry Potter house I'm in (Hufflepuff, my ass), let alone determine what an over-eager young woman is going to do to my genitalia. These tips — fifty in all — range from difficult to unappealing to just plain ill-advised. We'll do them in order:
"Pull off his boxer briefs with your teeth."
This "kinky trick" isn't very kinky. It is, however, very difficult. Have you ever tried to take off boxer briefs with your teeth? You've kind of got to start gnawing at the elastic band up by the hipbone, and there's nowhere good for your nose to go, unless you start from the bottom of the brief, but I've always found that looks a little too canine to be sexy.
"Put on his favorite porn, and act out the sex scenes as they're happening."
A wise man once said: "Civilization is the ability to distinguish what you like from what you like in pornography." Ponder that as you're getting piston-fucked for seventeen minutes on a Motel 6 bedspread.
"Trace the outline of his nipples with Durex Play Quiver lube ice cubes, and then have him trace the outside of your labia with it. Keep switching back and forth until it fully melts."
…at which point you'll be covered in lube, and a little chilly. But the real downside of this tip is that you have to keep a ice tray designated for lubesicles in your freezer for when the moment strikes. Call me crazy, but sex shouldn't involve so much X-rated home-ec.
A good number of Cosmo articles have a "This one time, at band camp" feel — where the banal and the very serious are bizarrely juxtaposed. Case in point: two items previous is "Surprise him in the shower" and give him a blowjob quietly. That's not kinky. That's a a funny thing to do before brunch the first time you visit your new boyfriend's parents. Then we hit this, the proverbial "flute in my pussy" moment:
"Hand him an ice pop, and tell him to use it on your body, licking off the remnants afterward. Then slip a condom on it (so you don't get yeast infection), and have him slide it in and out of you."
Putting a condom on a rapidly melting ice-pop (with a wooden stick in it!) and sliding it in and out of yourself isn't "kinky-lite." It's old-school bananas. (Speaking of bananas, there is only one food product that should ever have a condom put on it.) And yes — stupid — you will get a yeast infection. A blue-raspberry yeast infection. Crush that on your coffee table and snort it, dummies.
"20 Sensual Things to Do in the Tub"
After the above, you might find yourself in need of a little decompressing. Or just a good way to warm your vagina back up. And you're in luck!
"Sink under water so only your face is above. According to doctors, warm water dilates the capillaries in your body, increasing the flow of oxygen to your cells and making you feel calm."
"Strategically place some suds and snap a birds-eye-view pic to send to your guy."
"Make the water exactly 99 degrees — you can check it with a thermometer. Doctors say that's the perfect temperature to get you totally relaxed."
First off, scientists don't need to tell you how warm your bath should be. Secondly, the whole point of relaxing is not measuring the temperature of the bathtub or making sexy pictures for someone else. But thirdly, this whole genre of articles make me want to die.
I might be over-reacting (I'm a little crabby — Doug is hogging the shit out of the center armrest) but every time I read a women's magazine or turn on the TV, I get stuff along the lines of "Ladies, do something sinfully, wickedly indulgent. Eat a little piece of chocolate. Take a bath. Marinate yourself in herbal lotions. Spritz yourself with cucumber water." (Ladies, say it with me: "I am not a Christmas ham or misbehaving cat.")
It's depressing — why the fuck are you so anxious and guilty about relaxing that you need permission and instructions from Cosmo to do it? Could it be because you read a magazine that publishes a section of user-submitted photos of "sleazy, gross, and strange" women that readers have spotted? (Yes, Cosmo really does that.) Or is it because evidently you're some sort of failure if you can't pull boxers off with your teeth like a goddamn circus seal?
Maxim
Maxim, on the other hand, kicks things off with positivity — a year-long guide to having a relationship.
"Sex Tips for Couples"
"Girlfriends come with a built-in sex guarantee, but what's not guaranteed is whether she'll want to do it as frequently or with the same fire (read: ass-slammed on tequila and Percocet) as you. Here's how to navigate the highs, the lows, and the middles of you and your girl's first year of getting it on."
A few thoughts: the whole "factory-warranty" language is a little rude. Not strikingly rude — just par-for-the-course Maxim rude. But still rude enough to make me wonder if any man who takes this advice could ever actually have a girlfriend.
Also, is Percocet on anyone's go-to list for wild sex? It's on my go-to list for "things I am washing down with airline liquor to make the turbulence seem less like impending death and more like a fun bumpy ride," but I think that's apples and oranges. In any case, here is what Maxim has to say about wild sex. (Segue: nailed it.)
"Three weeks: Turn to the Dark Side"
"After a few getting-to-know-you rolls in the hay, you're probably dying to bump things up from PG-13 to an undisclosed number of X's. Try taking it one X at a time by picking a single raunchy move from your arsenal of "sexual eclecticism" and asking her nicely if she'd be up for giving it a go."
Credit where credit is due: this is great advice. A few weeks into a relationship is the perfect time to talk to your partner about your less vanilla sexual interests — and asking (you know, instead of internet polls of strangers) is the best way to figure out how you overlap. The "take things one X at a time" bit is pretty dumb, but hey, figurative language can be hard. Harder than a horny goat… made out of diamonds.
"Three Months: Crash the Pajama Party"
"Remember that chores around the house count as foreplay… when you do them, that is."
Yes, because when she does them, it's a woman doing the work she's goddamn supposed to be doing.
"Six Months: Fight Dirty, Apologize Dirtier"
"Your first real fight comes with a built-in silver lining: steaming-hot make-up sex! The catch: She currently wishes you were trapped inside a vat of steaming-hot garbage juice. Some chicks do get off on despising your guts. Heed Pam, 27: "Am I the only one who likes hate sex? Don't try to talk to me. Just fuck me in anger, please." (And, no, you cannot have Pam's e-mail address.) But most chicks require some slick maneuvering on your part to get from livid to horny. Here's the bad news: Lust means always having to say you're sorry."
This paragraph is remarkable: picking a fight with the hope that it will lead to sex is an awful thing to do. But adding in a little bratty complaining that you'll probably have to apologize (for the fight you picked) — is like fuck-me-with-an-ice-pop bad. And they managed to get it all into one short paragraph that includes a doe-eyed (and surely busty) young lady named Pam just begging you to anger-fuck her (you big bad boy).
The rest of the year is kind of a let down: tell her about the girls (other than her) you find attractive around month nine, and for your anniversary, have sex standing up before going out to dinner (so her hair won't get messed up).
But why look so far ahead? The new year is just dawning and the flight attendant is urging me to return my tray table to its upright and locked position. Enjoy your holidays, everyone, and we'll see you back here in 2012 for some more sexual edification. In the meantime, stay away from the frozen treats.
