Stop, my sides!

Okay, when did Cosmopolitan become a comedy magazine? I don't read it often, mostly because I'm not exactly their target demographic; the only "walks of shame" I do these days are the ones that involve spilling coffee on myself by 10:15am. But I decided to pick one up today, and I've been laughing my head off all afternoon. For those of you who don't want to spend the $5.49, a few gems I learned from Cosmo:

In the article "Would you do this to your vagina?", I'm informed that leaving some hair down there is the new thing. Isn't that kind of the old thing? I hit puberty on the cusp of the 80s. The 70s were pretty bushcentric, so I've actually never understood why women feel the need to go all Kojak. Granted, looking like you're smuggling a hamster in your underpants might be a bit too au naturel, but completely bare? Nope. But the best part of that article was this little revelation: there's a temporary dye women can get to pink up their pussies. Sort of a new kind of lip stain, I guess. Who in the hell is sitting there thinking "You know what? My vadge is looking a little pallid?" Jesus Christ - I'm 41, and I only got the courage to dye my hair at home 6 months ago. If you want to paint something, I suggest your toes.

Next. Apparently, studies have been done, and the colour green got a 96% on something they call the Colour Happiness Scale. I briefly rejoiced, since I just bought a lovely green top. Unfortunately, I then remembered something that might suggest a serious flaw in the research: Oscar the Grouch.

I kind of suspect a lot of the "Cosmo confessions" are made up, simply because I don't think it's mathematically possible for that many people to get caught having sex by their parents/roommates/cleaning lady/ a news crew. But a contributor named Matt Meltzer apparently rounded up some real live guys and asked them how they keep from finishing too soon. Bit personal there, Matt, but okay. My favourite, and the guy I want to buy a beer, is 25 year old Gus, who says he thinks about "dead animals on asphalt". Really, Gus? Maybe I'm old school, but I'm pretty sure, all things considered, I'd rather have sex with a guy who didn't last super long as opposed to a guy who was thinking about roadkill the entire time.

Sadly, the last thing I learned today at Cosmo U is not, in fact, a laughing matter. I have a well documented fear of overripe bananas. Imagine my horror when I read that putting a piece of well-ripened banana skin pulp-side down over a splinter, then covering it with a bandage, will help draw out the splinter. I would like to go on record as stating the following: I don't care if a well-ripened banana would help draw out a samurai sword on which I was impaled, I don't want the damn thing anywhere near me.

There were also 8 new sex positions with catchy names that made my knees hurt just looking at them, and an article entitled "OMG, I'm in Love With My Stepbrother", but the banana thing did me in. Thanks for the laughs, Cosmo. I didn't know you had it in you.