Cosmopolitan Magazine Sucks Like A Bucket of Ticks

I've never been one to study that particular publication before but last night we were all over at a friend's house and they had a few issues laying on the end table. Just looking at the titles of articles splashed across the cover is enough to tell you how awful that rag is. Flipping through and actually reading some of them confirms it for all time. This thing is nothing but sex in its most casual and crass forms. If I ever see Daughter Number One with that piece of trash she'll be grounded until she's 36. Wife Number One and Only shares my disgust, which is comforting because it's about the only thing we've agreed on lately. (We have both a McCain and Obama bumper sticker on the minivan. Oy.)