Spring Fling

Just like the first little crocus starting to peek up through the ground, there's the April issue of Cosmo, peeking its smutty little head out from behind that boring Good Housekeeping. I give you the highlights.

The cover promises 50 Ways to Seduce a Man (in a minute or less). Presumably not while wearing What Guys Hate for You to Wear to Bed, and likely while having some Kinky Sex (which 64% of you tramps secretly want to try). I'm in!

The 50 tips are a fairly typical grab bag of short skirts, discreet public crotch grabbing and a slutty maid costume. Not just for Halloween anymore, I guess. The one that made me laugh AND gave me pause was this: "You know those treats you used to find at the bottom of a cereal box? One morning, I hid [my] new finger vibrator in my guy's cereal for him to discover." Maybe I have a startling lack of imagination, or maybe guys are different, but this doesn't make me think of sexy times; it makes me think of questionable food safety practices. I'd be on the phone to the Superstore faster than you could say "Want to frost my flakes,  Big Boy?" And here's the thing about the dozens of monthly tips: how are you supposed to remember them? Do you pick a few and commit them to memory? Flash cards in your nightstand? Create a mnemonic device? Many years ago, I had a copy of this somewhat racy "how-to" book, along with a willing partner who agreed to hold the book while we gave the alleged number one tip a whirl.  It was called "The Firestarter". He made me promise never to read that book, or any like it, ever again.

Guys apparently would like us to stop wearing nightgowns to bed. You know the ones - usually long sleeves, a neckline, possibly a ruffle, a hemline that hits the knees.  What shocks me is that they needed an article to tell women this. Were you home-schooled? They should have to card you before you head for that rack, and if you're under 55, sorry. T-shirt. Boy shorts. Tank top. Donair sauce. Anything but a little number from the Little Women collection.

Okay, pervs, I know why you've kept reading this far. You want to know what 64% of you want to try. Turns out it's the training wheels version of S&M, the stalwart combo of a blindfold and handcuffs. There are a lot of assurances that it's perfectly okay to find this appealing, your guy won't judge you, etc. The experts suggest bringing it up by mentioning you find the video for Lady Gaga's "Alejandro" really hot, and asking him if he thinks it is, too. I admit I'm out of the loop, but if any guy I'm sleeping with has any opinion whatsoever on a Lady Gaga video, we have bigger things to discuss than whether he wants to play good cop / bad cop. Whatever happened to "hey, you know what might be fun?" I swear, this inability or reluctance to say what you want is an epidemic. And since I know you're wondering ....please. I came of age with "9 1/2 Weeks" and Madonna's "Sex" book. I'm not saying I've seen more blindfolds than a Spanish firing squad, but I could probably put together a decent  Lone Ranger costume on very short notice back in the day.

Apparently, 48% of men say they've learned pretty much everything there is to know about sex. How sad that would be, to think there's nothing new to discover. And gentlemen - no,  you haven't.

There's a whole page dedicated to "Ferosh Date Shoes!"  I didn't know what they meant. At first I thought they'd misspelled "fresh". Or "frosh". But then I realized they meant a derivative of "ferocious". This bothered me more than it should. Then I realized I was horrified over a Cosmo colloquialism, and this bothered me even more. It was like I was on one of Escher's never-ending staircases, wearing ferosh shoes and searching desperately for my dog-eared copy of Strunk & White.

Do guys have signs they look for to guess whether a girl is going to be good in bed? My guess is if she's holding a one way ticket out of town dated tomorrow morning in one hand and a jumbo margarita in the other, but I could be wrong.

Oooh - there's a bonus section they don't tell you about on the cover. It's Cosmo's Sex Fantasy Game. There are 12 cards, each printed with three words, and you're to weave those words into an erotic scenario involving you and your partner. You're supposed to describe the scenario in a sexy way, and act it out as best you can. It's like "Whose Line is it?", only with lube.  Let's see - I think my favourite word combo is this one: bar / over-the-knee boots/ phone. Maybe it's my fashion sense showing, but when I think over-the-knee boots and bar, I assume the phone would be for your clients,  since you're clearly a working girl.  And I literally cannot imagine any sort of scenario involving bench/ bra/ mints without giggling. I must admit tent/ chocolate/ camera has potential. But who am I kidding? I'm a simple girl who thinks many of the bells and whistles are fun, but unnecessary. My ideal card would say  Kettlecorn/ PVR/ Missionary. What? I have to work in the morning.

Weird fact I learned: a study by the University of New Mexico found that lap dancers earned up to 80% more in tips on days they were ovulating. I smell an awkward conversation with my boss in about 8 days.

Quiz time:  Do Guys Think You're Exciting?  Let me reflect on the weekend just past. Hmm. Yeah, I'm gonna save myself some time tallying those answers. But one question caught my eye:  "You're dying to get with (really?) your man, but he's still at work. How do you let him know you're craving him? " Answer b), worth the maximum 2 points, is "Tape your panties to his garage, so when he pulls up, he can't miss 'em".  Okay, maybe I'm overly concerned with details, but what if he lives in a building? And I'd like to address this directly to any future paramours who happen to read this:  Honey, if you ever come home and my delicates are taped to your garage, it does not mean you're about to get your world rocked. It means I've been kidnapped and the unsub is sending you a sick, twisted, lacy message. Call the police.

One final tidbit from Cosmo this month. They asked 100 guys about their dream way to end the weekend. 31% said cooking a big dinner together. Where the hell are these men? They sure as hell aren't in my kitchen on any given Sunday. If they were, they'd totally find a beer/ remote control / Lone Ranger card beside their dinner plate.