Powdered balls and sex ninjas

It's officially fall. No more summer frivolity, no more sandals. It's time to buckle down and get serious again. Yes, dear readers, that can mean only one thing: the "Cosmo" review is back.

Right off the bat, I'm concerned. "21 Naughty Sex Tips". 21?! What happened to 75? Is it the recession? A downturn in the global smutty index? Or maybe it's worse: maybe they've finally run out of carnal wisdom, and could only muster a final 21 gun salute. Thank fuck, frankly, because trying to remember the 1081 tips over the last year (you know, just in case)  is mentally exhausting. There's no mnemonic for that.

The lovely Minka Kelly is on the cover. Gorgeous girl; god awful new television show. No one loved the original "Charlie's Angels" more than pre-adolescent me, so I wanted to like this one. It's terrible. And I know I shouldn't judge it based on one episode. I'm not. I didn't last the whole episode. I'm judging it based on the first 18 minutes. I lasted twice as long with the second "Lord of the Rings" movie, and I fucking hate Hobbits.

Alright, let's get to those tips, shall we?  Hmm. Apparently, committing these particular tips to memory will make me an official Cosmo Sex Ninja. I'm not making that up. I was concerned at first (I don't have the cheekbones to pull off the mask, nevermind the aim to master a throwing star), then intrigued. This lasted one paragraph. And here's why:

They suggest having sex in your closet. Look, I'm all for making out in your clothes. Just not IN your clothes. First of all, I hate ironing. Secondly, I live in an old house with weirdly shaped closets. And my lack of flexibility combined with dormers just doesn't scream "sex ninja". Plus, there's usually a cat in the closet, and if my winter parka isn't a boner killer, she certainly is.

Sneak a silent quickie in a crowded house. Yeah, not as fun as it sounds. And not as silent as I thought.

This next one had me both shaking my head and rubbing my neck (sympathy kink). They suggest a new twist on that old numerical favourite, the 69. Except he should be standing, and you're sort of upside down, supported by the end of a bed, with him holding you around the waist. So you're sort of in upside down frog position, trying to balance on an unstable surface, with blood rushing to your head. Picture it. I'll wait. Does this sound hot to anybody? Because it sounds to me like a trip to the physiotherapist. I couldn't master a headstand when I took gym, and that was before puberty and my centre of gravity changed, so I sure as hell am not about to attempt a naked one on some poor guy's crotch.

Okay - the next one suggests I "whip out the sex toy hiding in his closet". Turns out they're not talking about a ball gag, so some of you might be on your own for that particular chat; they mean his old skateboard.  Now, I've admitted before I'm not exactly their target demographic, but, for the record, if any guy I date has a skateboard in his closet at this point, becoming a sex ninja will not be my biggest accomplishment. Staying off the sex offender registry will be. They suggest lying facedown on the board and sort of using it as a really rad sex dolly. The only thing gnarly about that would be my knees, afterwards. A couple of things come to mind - first off,  do you know what skateboard wheels would do to my hardwood floors? And second - anyone remember the episode of  "The X-Files" featuring the Peacock family? A homicidally incestuous clan who kept Momma (a multiple amputee) under the bed? On a board with wheels on it?  Until an unfortunate threesome scene on "Californication", the creepiest thing David Duchovny ever appeared in?  So, um, pass.  There were a few other suggestions (role playing, sex in sort of plain view, etc), but I pretty much tapped out when I realized they couldn't guarantee my certification in the use of sex nunchucks.

101 Things about Men. Um, they like boobs. And beer. Do we really need to cover the other 99 things? Kidding - I know guys are a bit more layered than that. Don't understand any of the layers, I think some of them might be unnecessary (like in a Mary Kate Olsen outfit), but that's why I have Cosmo. And apparently 36% of men list patient/nurse as their number one role-play fantasy. Great! Except my mom was a nurse. In a seniors' home. For 40 years. And she loved to tell me stories. So maybe not.

There's a worrisome new manscaping trend on the horizon. Out of a desire to remain fresh as a daisy, dudes are powdering their balls. They actually make powder specifically for this. I'm naturally suspicious, so if I see a guy take a seat and a white pouf of powder rises out of his jeans, I'm going to assume he's a drug mule, not a nut duster. I'm not even sure which is worse - felonious tendencies, or looking like your junk has been doing Kabuki theatre. And gentlemen, please -  if Miss Manners says we ladies shouldn't powder our noses at the table, do I really have to say it?

Let's see - what else? Four words that Seduce Any Man. Any Time. I hardly think this warrants an entire article.  It's four words, right?  They claim it's "I want you now." Thank god, because my old stand-by "Beer? Pizza? Nipple Tassels?" was getting a little stale, and I haven't had much luck with "I have three cats".

Watermelon is apparently a "food that boosts my mood". Specifically, it might lead to toe-curling sex. Ever do that thing in the summer where you scoop a hole in the end of the watermelon and upend a pint of vodka into it? That works, too.

The Cosmo Quiz this month pledges to tell me How Much Game I Have. Let me save you the suspense.  Not much. The only way I could have scored lower would be to not actually take the quiz.

The awfully cute Matt Czuchry, currently of "The Good Wife", formerly of Rory Gilmore's boudoir, tells me that a guy truth he wishes I knew is that men love a funny chick. Sure they do, Matt. They love to have a beer with us, and hang out with us, and maybe even flirt with us. But they don't want to date us. Now, if we could just shove down to make room for the cute, bubbly girl you just met at the bar. She'll read your emails and key your car in about two months' time, but hey, the funny girl will be here to make you laugh about it afterwards. Trust me on this, Matt - if being funny was such a prerequisite for most men, I'd be out eating watermelon and trying to do a naked headstand, not reviewing this month's Cosmo for all you would-be sex ninjas.