Does This Sex Column Make My Ass Look Fat? #3

This article was orginally published at Revolt Daily.

These glossy mags are great if only for the absolute insanity that graces every page. I’ve already shown you a series of sex-tips bound to ruin your relationship, but this month was a parade of hypocrisy. The mags are nothing if not consistent, in one issue, they’ll give you a random number of tips “guaranteed” to give you “orgasms” or “the best sex of your life” and in the next, one of their male columnists will lay out all the reasons those tips are not what men want, and that’s fine, because we already knew that. No, what’s more troubling is reading an issue that tells readers how to speed the healing of their genital warts by eating more yogurt, and another where a gynecologists laments that women seem to view STIs as “no big deal” these days.

https://www.facebook.com/pages/Miss-Fliss-Photography/179498025433754?fref=ts

 Or, now that’s it’s summer, the famous Cosmopolitan “Practice Safe Sun” campaign (get it? It’s like they’re talking about sex, but they aren’t! It’s funny and sexy, like the women who read Cosmo!). The idea is you don’t want icky wrinkles or scary skin cancer, so you slather on the sunscreen—but of course it isn’t that simple. Cosmo couldn’t make money if they put any effort into getting women to accept themselves as they are, so rather than promoting feeling good in the skin color you were born with, they show you models on every page perfectly bronzed in a three-shade spectrum, and spend pages talking about the best bronzers and self-tanners on the market. See, it’s not enough to not tan. You have to tan while you don’t tan, so you can be tan without tanning. Unless you’re black, Middle Eastern, or Hispanic. Then they will whitewash the ever-loving fuck out of your skin, and don’t think it’s to promote healthy sun habits, it’s not. They white wash the darker skinned women right down to that three-shade spectrum so that each and every one of us can sleep at night knowing that it doesn’t matter your skin color, if you’re a woman—you just aren’t good enough. But here we go, back to the same recurring theme—these magazines think we’re morons. Morons who eat yogurt to cure cancer causing STIs and need to be constantly distracted by conflicting advice in order to have good sex. So… here we go again!

Feeling shy? Orchestrate an incredibly complex sexual situation where you don’t have to show your body, expect him to think it’s spontaneous.

Cosmo postulates that there are days when you are “not so skinny jeans ready”, and being naked in front of “your man” is unthinkable. They also postulate that on a day that wearing pants makes you feel uncomfortable, you’ll be wearing a mini-dress. The fact that this sort of self-consciousness may single a faltering sense of logic is beside the point. The point is that Cosmo can help! All you have to do is trick your man into believing you are having “urgent”, “charged” sex by keeping your dress on, sliding your panties aside, and refusing to let him disrobe, either.

Never mind that he’ll see the thighs you were apparently so upset by earlier in this entry, that is unimportant. Now he’ll be so distracted by the fact that you’re refusing to let him go to second base and making him keep his pants pulled up that he won’t even notice your thighs!

There’s another issue, too (male readers, feel free to collectively cup your junk now), chafing. Chafing of the penis is, I hear, pretty unsexy. Unless you’ve put on your softest, most worn out granny panties, it’s going to be a problem. If you put on some lacey, sexy stuff to help you bust out of your funk (and please, oh Lord, let this be a figurative funk and not a literal one) your man is going to need some salve or something once you’re done.

My solution: Mostly clothed sex is hot because it’s happens when your mutual desire overrides the variables that lead to naked, sex-on-the-bed sex. It’s spontaneous and lusty. It’s not supposed to be a weirdly planned out ritual you go through when you had too much diet soda and feel bloaty. If you are too self-conscious to get it on, then don’t. Wait until you feel better, or, get naked in front of your man and take comfort in how much he loves to see boobs, even when you aren’t so “skinny jeans ready.”

 

Eat some cheap, messy pasta sauce.

Tony is the guy responsible for this one. No, I don’t know who Tony is, or why you should listen to him*, but he’s IN A MAGAZINE for WOMEN, so if you’re a woman, take note. Tony wants to tell you exactly what to eat to get your man all worked up, and why they work.

Peaches… okay. Peaches are nice. Some guys call women’s genitalia “peaches” so I guess it makes sense. Kinda. Lobster, because eating with your hands is sexy. That’s… unusual, but lobster tastes pretty nice. Steak, okay. Ragu…

Ragu?

Fucking Ragu. Not just “pasta with red sauce”. No, specifically, Ragu. Look, I get it. I understand that before there was a brand-named, watery pasta sauce named Ragu, ragu was the name of a type of sauce, but let’s get real—if he meant a red meat sauce, he could have said “pasta with red sauce” or “bolognaise”, or fucking anything other than RAGU. His reasoning was red sauce with meat in it is “sexy”.

Listen up ladies: It’s sexy because it’s sexy.

Slurping loose noodles into your mouth and getting little splatter shots of pasta sauce is hot. Bonus points if you drop a big chunk of ground beef onto your dress and have to sit through the rest of your date with a red splotch on your chest. Mmm… ground beef and stains. Red stains. The color of passion! The color of love! The color and consistency of… gore. Who doesn’t love blobs of flesh dripping in red hanging off their lover’s chin?

My solution: Don’t eat pasta in an attempt to be sexy. You will blow it. Any woman focusing that hard on looking sexy while eating pasta will blow it. It’s not you, it’s the pasta. If you’re trying to woo him, don’t serve him sauce out of a jar, because that’s probably not what Tony meant. Plus Ragu isn’t very good.

 

Don’t get into it at all. Just lie there. 

 What is a bigger turn off than your mate wanting to have sex with you? I mean, ewww, right? Why would you go through the trouble of showing any desire or attraction to your mate when you could just roll over, pull your panties down and “put him inside you”? He’ll know what to do after that.

In the “Sex Moves For Every Mood” article, there is an entry for “groggy” that lets you know it is totally okay to roll on your side and “remain lazily on the bed” while he brushes the sleep out of his eyes and realizes you just grabbed his junk. This is especially good if you are hung over (they say so right there in the article!). You don’t have to worry about coffee, ibuprofen, or your craving for greasy diner food (so it will totally make up for those empty calories from all those appletinis!), just roll over and reach for his dick. It’s super easy, minimal effort, and I am sure he will be so hot for you when he catches you snoring. Complete disinterest in sex is the new hot sex.

My solution: If you are that exhausted (or hung over) how horny can you possibly be? I’m asking a question, I’ll read the comments for your answer. Maybe just sleep in, drink some water and have a cup of coffee and see how you feel after that. Brush your teeth first, though, okay?

BONUS! The sexiest thing she (you) can say in bed, from a male Cosmo reader:

“Where the f*ck did you come from?”


My solution: This guy says it was their first time “hooking up”, so I’m actually a bit concerned he took it as a compliment and kept on trucking. I mean, what if it was a genuine question? She totally could have confused you with the other Abercrombie wearing douchebro at the pool. It’s summer, these things happen. Next time, answer her, just in case.


*Correction: after this was originally published I realized "Tony" is "Anthony Bourdain." Whoops.

"Ramblers, let's get rambling" - FDTD