Tag Archives: Cosmo

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I knew it was too good to be true.

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The other day I found the email I’d been waiting for.

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Finally, an end to the delivery of that ridiculous piece of trash. My gift subscription was over!

But the very next day?

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I’m hoping this is the very last one. I really am.

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Of course you did.

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What the utter Hell? There’s not enough misogyny in the world, this chick wants to be spit on.

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And I thought being spit on was bad.

😳

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This makes me glad that couple doesn’t have kids.

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So basically you wanted to sleep with your step child.

Please Mr. Postman… let this be the very last issue I receive. I beg you.

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It (unfortunately) never disappoints.

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Gather round boys and girls…. September’s Cosmo, aka the worst gift subscription ever, is here.

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On first glance I thought maybe, just maybe…. I could flip through it without being stunned this month.

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Yeah.

No such luck. And as I’ve said before, I’m no prude… but the in your face sexual content of this magazine never fails to surprise me.

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Greatest sex position. Wouldn’t that be a personal choice?

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Not according to Cosmopolitan.

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And… apologies, but I’m not going to discuss the Venus butterfly technique. Cosmo did, so if you’re curious, get your own friend to give you a year’s worth of this trash.

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My husband shops in the strangest places.

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On our way home from the antique mall the other day, we stopped at a bar.

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You’re shocked, I know.

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One Paloma in…

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The husband started examining bar chairs.

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They were tall, sturdy, rustic… and swiveled.

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Two Palomas, a cup of clam chowder ….

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A Cosmo and a Cajun fried chicken sandwich later….

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The husband decided he wanted these exact chairs for his bar.

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After tracking down the restaurant’s owner we discovered they were custom made by a company an hour and a half away….

So away we went.

To be continued.

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Cosmo-what?

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#2 in the series of ‘I’m definitely not young and single anymore’. Otherwise known as Cosmopolitan magazine highlights.

Or lowlights, you decide.

Gentlemen?

You’ve been warned.

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First up, a strawberry vagina.

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Magical?

Yeah, I must be doing something wrong. And because there are probably other women like me?

Products.

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Am I surprised they are named Honey Pot and Fur?

At this point, I am not.

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This explains a lot about the current generation. I enjoyed moving out of my parents house, but maybe that was just me.

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What brownie abomination is this?

No. Just…. no.

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Wow. And I thought breaking up via text was bad….

Finally there was this:

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Strategically placed mirror aside…. FaceTiming your gynecologist? I’m beginning to relish the fact I’m not in my twenties anymore.

P.S. … don’t be surprised when that cat starts having nightmares.

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Clearly it’s been a long time…

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As you know, I am not a 25 year old single woman….  (Please refrain from commenting if you value our friendship)  so it’s been a while since I leafed through a Cosmopolitan magazine. But for some reason a girlfriend gifted me a subscription, and I felt I needed to honor the gesture.

 

 

Hmm.

My hair removal routine is neither adventurous nor worth writing about, and as for the scale….. I’m afraid my hairless cat level will have to remain a mystery. I like my readers, but not that much.

 

 

And how do they know walking burrito wasn’t the look I was going for?

Fashion is personal…. and I happen to have the perfect black bean earrings to match, so there!

 

 

The selfie wasn’t around when I was young and single, so this may be a day late and a dollar short… but here goes.

 

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Okay, so maybe I need a little more practice.

 

 

What kind of noodle am I?

Yes…. I’m beginning to remember why I stopped reading Cosmo in the first place.

(In case you’re wondering? Rigatoni baby.)

I found this issue to be so utterly ridiculous, I may have to make it a monthly series. And if you’re groaning now?

Just be thankful I didn’t share all the articles today.

 

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Yes, it’s clearly been a while since I read single women’s magazines.