All I really need to know I learned in Cosmo

Time for another Cosmopolitan Thirteen! I’m eager to find out how the May issue will change my life. Will I discover at long last what I crave in bed? Will I learn the secret to perfect abs with Cosmo’s No Crunch Workout^®? Could I find out what mysterious rules of attraction brought Karen and me together? And will I master the Surefire Technique That Takes You Both Over the Edge — Simultaneously^®, whether we like it or not?

I’ll just be happy if this issue saves me hundreds of dollars on money-saving beauty tips. Like putting leftover guacamole dip in my hair for added shine and bounce — I am so there.

Follow me below the cut for a treasure trove of Cosmognosis.

1. I crave all the wrong things.

Me: Hey Karen! Cosmo has a new Sexposé —

K: Not another f**king Sexposé. I’m still sticky from their last f**king Sexposé.

Me: Don’t interrupt. This one’s entitled “10 Things Guys Crave in Bed.” Do you suppose they’ll include any of the things I crave in bed?

K: No. Definitely not.

Me: Why not?

K: Because you’re a pervert.

It’s true. (No, not that I’m a pervert. Although that’s true, too, at least by the standards of the James Dobsons of the world.) Cosmo has no clue what I crave in bed. Here are the mattress-shattering revelations of this issue’s cover article: men want (1) a girl who can turn herself on, (2) sex to be fun (DUH!), (3) the woman to drop hints, (4) to watch, (5) naughty behavior in bed, (6) a “wow, what was that?” experience, (7) to mix things up, (8) nooky out of nowhere, (9) ‘to take you,’ and (10) to do nothing sometimes.

Nowhere on this list is (11) a blowjob so comprehensively thorough I pass out and sleep like an infant for the next eight hours, although I’ll admit a “wow, what was that?” experience comes close. But this implies I would be conscious enough to say, “Wow, what was that?” And yes, (8) nooky out of nowhere is always welcome, so I’ll grant Cosmo 1 out of 10 correct.

2. No nude photos of Carrie Underwood exist on the web. I know. I tried to find them for you, and I even double-checked to make sure SafeSearch was off.

And I don’t even like blondes (except for Jeri Ryan in her Seven of Nine outfit . . . and, um, I’m not looking at her hair). See how dedicated I am to you? The best I could do was this photo of Ms. Underwood with a right boob hickey. Or mosquito bite, but I favor the hickey theory.

Incidentally, WTF was up with Jeri Ryan’s ex-husband (Jack Ryan) wanting her to perform sex acts in public? Jack, you were married to SEVEN OF NINE FOR THE LOVE OF GOD. If you were having trouble getting it up, you should have asked her to put on her uniform.

Hmm. Interesting link. Anyway, what do you expect from a Republican?

Oh, and then there’s Rollergirl (Heather Graham — nsfw), another blonde capable of bypassing my No Blonde radar. It’s the smile, people.

3. Seven things I didn’t know about Carrie Underwood . . . not difficult, since I’d never heard of her before reading this issue. I gather she’s a musician, given the photo of her with an acoustic guitar. This item intrigued me:

Her favorite show is Grey’s Anatomy.

Hmm. Doctor fetish, perhaps? Not that I’m in the market, but I’m always looking for new fantasy material. But hang on a sec there’s THIS:

The last book I read was The Ultimate Gift.

I don’t like the sound of that. And she lists her favorite song as a tie between “Before he Cheats” and “Jesus, Take the Wheel.”

I just figured out the absence of nude photos.

4. Cosmo shall not be the final arbiter of sexy vs. skanky.

Cleavage, you see, is sexy, while “squished cleavage” is skanky. Hello! It’s called a push-up bra and it’s SEXY. Why? Dammit, we’ve already covered this turf. (A) Pushed-up boobs say “plenty of milk to feed our offspring” to a man’s reptile brain, and (B) they look like an ass submissively presented for mounting. ‘Nuff said.

In fairness, the “squished cleavage” belongs to Paula Abdul, so I’ll agree with Cosmo’s skanky verdict. But it’s not her boobs — it’s her “I make Vivian Leigh look like a pillar of emotional strength” personality that makes Paula a skank.

5. When guys confess, they really confess.

“Confessions,” one of Cosmo’s regular features, usually saves me from having to pop extra Benadryls. Women simply can’t confess to the good stuff. I left crazy-jealous messages on his answering machine. I accidentally wore a bomber jacket with panties stuck on the back. Gimme a break.

But the guys, hoo boy. They know how to dish.

. . . my girlfriend invited me on her family vacation. Her parents had rented a house, and I was psyched that they were letting us stay in the same room. One night after we did the deed, I realized there was no trash can to put the condom in. I didn’t want to toss it in the bathroom since we were sharing it with her parents. So I shoved the used condom in a dirty sock on the floor, thinking I would deal with it later. The next day, my girlfriend’s mom pulled my girl aside to talk. Earlier, she’d decided to do our laundry and got my slimy surprise.

Cute story, but I call bullshit. Why didn’t he flush it down the toilet? Oh yeah — those Ultra Mega Magnums clog the drains. Riiiight.

6. Reasonable hypothesis, bizarre conclusions. Or, I understand guy psychology a lot better than Cosmo’s writers.

In the article “4 Major Moments for a Man,” the author makes the reasonable statement, “When a guy hits key turning points in his life, his behavior can suddenly change . . . in good and bad ways.” But what do they call “key turning points”? These:

He starts his first real job.
His good friend gets married.
He moves into his own place.
He has his first big failure.

Once again, I call bullshit.

His first real job. Maybe I can’t relate because I segued from student to private practice doc in a series of baby steps. Yes, this is a real job. But, what was internship?

His good friend gets married. I beat them all to the punch.

He moves into his own place. Again, a series of baby steps. Was the bedroom I shared in a boarding house freshman year “my own place”? Were the dorms? How about the apartment I shared with two other guys?

He has his first big failure. I’ve mentioned this before: I feel guilty for things I did as a toddler. I feel guilty for things I did in dreams. I would be hard pressed to identify my FIRST big failure.

So what are the key turning points which change a man’s behavior? I have my own list — but we’ll leave that for another post.

7. Why I continue to read Cosmo: seemingly limitless confirmation that I am an atypical man.

Take this gem, for example. As a man (so Cosmo says), I avoid going to the doctor because I think it shows weakness. Karen can convince me to go by pointing out how my “perfectly fine car still does better with regular tuneups.”

That is so not me in oh so many ways.

And then there’s Cosmo’s list of 4 Things No Guy Wants to Hear (why do these things always come in 4s and 10s?)

“Why won’t you tell me what’s wrong?” In our household, I would be saying this to Karen, not the other way around.

“So he’s like ‘Huh?’ And she’s all ‘Whatever!'” First of all, if Karen ever imitated a Valley Girl, I think I would piss myself laughing. Second, Cosmo’s premise is that guys hate gossipy tirades. But I love gossipy tirades. I usually initiate them.

“How many women have you slept with?” Bring it on! Cuz the answer is, “Just you, babe,” and she knows it. (Falling asleep in front of the TV with my high school girlfriend doesn’t count.)

“Well, do you remember what tomorrow is?” Which means Cosmo thinks I can’t remember anniversary dates. If anyone’s going to have hurt feelings over forgotten dates, it’s me.

8. And the rules of attraction don’t apply to me, either.

In his application of Pratchett’s Extreme Anthropocentric Principle, my son maintains that Karen and I fell in love and married solely to produce him.

Interesting theory.

Cosmo has other ideas vis a vis the rules of attraction, and none of them click for us, not a one.

A. Pheromones. Well, who the hell knows? Supposedly, this happens at a subconscious level. I recall that during our courtship, we didn’t spend much time sniffing each other.

B. Opposites attract. Cosmo hedges their bets here, saying some folks are attracted to mates with similar characteristics, while others are attracted to opposites. I think Karen and I fall somewhere in between.

C. Parents.

“It’s well recognized that people look for partners who have similar characteristics to their opposite sex parents,” says [psychotherapist Morley] Glicken.

Strictly speaking, “psychotherapist” means Dr. Glicken is a Freudian. So of course he’s going to say this.

The idea that I chose someone who reminded me of my mom, and Karen chose someone who reminded her of her dad, left us both vaguely nauseated. But I suppose we’re both repressing our latent Oedipal fantasies.

9. Hollywood Cookie Diet, where have you been all my life?

The First Delicious Way to Lose Weightâ„¢. Eat a cookie, Skip a mealâ„¢. Lose weight with delicious meal replacement cookies.

I love how they’ve trademarked the phrase, “Eat a cookie, skip a meal.” And it works! (So says the ad in Cosmo.) “A short-term meal replacement, these cookies are packed with nutrients, fiber, and protein. Individually wrapped for dieting on-the-go.” (On-the-go — that’s the fiber talking.) “A 3-day supply starts at just $19.95.” (Or $18.99 from drugstore.com — hah! See? I saved you a buck!)

10. Everyone has a Hollywood clone.

I’ll grant that Leo DiCaprio looks like Eric Dane, but Demi Moore and Jordana Brewster? In the photo Cosmo provides (sorry, no scanner here at work), Demi looks confident and self-assured, while Jordana looks like marital flight risk Jennifer Wilbanks. So they’re both straight-haired brunettes. My wife is a straight-haired brunette, but she doesn’t look like Demi Moore.

One Sunday morning, back when we were living in San Antonio, I was watching a Mass on Catholic TV (because Catholics are just Jews for Jesus, after all) and I had to wake Karen from a sound sleep. “Come quick! You gotta see this guy!” I said, ignoring her groans. Groans which became growls when she saw the priest. “It’s just his damn beard,” Karen said. “He doesn’t look a thing like you.”

But he did. He looked like me. Like me with hair.

Anyway, I already know who my Hollywood clone is:

Wally Shawn — a clone in spirit, if not in physiognomy.

11. I go to all the wrong parties.

Cosmo’s Party Pix page features Tom Cruise’s Stepford wife, Katie Holmes, in a warm embrace with Cruise’s ex, Penelope Cruz. Now, why any sane man would choose Katie over Penelope is beyond me — but I think I answered my own question. And I suspect Cruise’s preferences had little to do with it.

I wonder what Miss Cruz and Mrs. Cruise talked about?

Katie: The back pain, that’s the worst of it.

Penelope: Ay, dios mio! He’s not still into anal is he?

Katie: Oh, THAT little thing? I’ve had more painful rectal thermometers! No, I’m talking about having to scrunch down all the time to make him look taller.

Yeah, something like that.

12. Cosmo don’t know nothin from dirty.

“Read His Dirty Mind,” the front cover proclaims. “These Thoughts Could Make A Cosmo Girl Blush.” Well, sure, if she’s an Amish Cosmo girl. Let’s look at some of those blush-worthy thoughts.

Here’s the setup. They gave “Cosmo Radio’s hot evening host, Patrick” a voice recorder so he could chronicle each and every one of his salacious thoughts. If I did this (and wrote about it), I would lose my medical license within the week. That’s assuming the buff women at the gym don’t impale me with a fifteen-pound bar, or that I don’t get drawn and quartered by four angry MILFs. Because if there’s one thing a physician doesn’t lack, it’s sexual imagination.

What does Patrick think about? The man is strictly vanilla:

9:45 AM. Although I should be up already, I’m lying in bed watching an old episode of The Real World: Denver — chicks in bikinis having a few drinks in the hot tub. I’m imagining myself making out with them, them making out with each other . . . .

Yawn. Yet at some level, methinks the gentleman doth protest too much.

11:15 AM. On my way to the gym, I see the hottest “cougar” walking her dog. Every time I see a sexy older woman, I think about all she could teach me in bed.

Am I alone in finding this more squicky than blushy? But he gives everything away with the next one:

12:40 PM. I’m listening to “Clocks,” by Coldplay

Whoa! Full stop. I’ve seen 40-Year-Old Virgin, after all.

David: You know how I know you’re gay?

Cal: How?

David: You like Coldplay.

Cosmo, next time, give your voice recorder to a real man.

And here’s the one you’ve been waiting for . . .

13. Simultaneous orgasms are EASY!

No, simultaneous orgasms are SO 1970s! Does anyone still see this as the sine qua non of good sex? Cosmo writer Molly Triffin does:

When you’re in a relationship, there’s nothing more intense than superconnected sex. And, with that goal in mind, the ultimate endeavor is a dual orgasm.

I’m sorry, Ms. Triffin. Writing about sex doesn’t give you a carte blanche for sloppy logic. I’ll grant you your premise that “superconnected” sex is a good thing, but isn’t it all about the fun? And what could be less fun than obsessing over timing?

As to how-to, the answer is obvious. Women approach climax at a slower rate than men, so women need a head start. Duh.

So . . . once again, Cosmo’s cover titillates and over-promises, yet I keep coming back for more. It’s cellulose crack, that’s what it is.

Crave-a-linky? You know what to do.

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Michelle rants with the best of ’em

Maureen needs to update her stories of Howie the Lab

What’s up with Corn Dog? I think this says it all:

On this form, it asks “Reason for requested colonoscopy:” I wrote “My GP hates me.”

Thorne holds forth on tattoo parlor ethics

Kris tells us about Calvin Klein’s latest aromatic test message, ckIN2U

fiveandfour’s dinner with friends

D.