Women's Magazines

I often find myself standing in front of news stands (often at airports) wondering what delicious trash I can pick up to occupy myself. In between reading about the hot mess that is Britney or scandale du jour, I often look resentfully at women's magazines.

Is it that the publishing industry is dominated by misogynists? Bitchy gay men and brittle, bone-thin hags who subsist on vodka and botox? Is it that women do not appreciate humor?

The women's magazine industry is entirely predicated on the belief that you, woman, are Not Okay. In fact, this abiding Not Okayness is so horrifying, so blatant, indeed so very OBVIOUS to everyone but you that it's quite surprising that you're able to function. No matter who you are, you definitely need to lose five-100 pounds, buy a new wardrobe, make new friends, find a new/any boyfriend, learn to live with the loser you've got because nobody else is ever going to love you, get your teeth whitened, get a tan, wear sunscreen, floss, tighten up your vaginal muscles, do leg lifts and feel inferior to most other women who supposedly Have It All.

Also, in between all of that, you should probably focus on your career for a second in between your lunchtime botox appointments and...have you considered plastic surgery for that horrendous schnoz of yours?

By contrast, consider the magazines for boys. The overriding theme there is Dude, You're Totally Awesome (and if you consider for just one second throwing away your ratty college T-shirt for this button down) Pussy Will Be Lined Up Outside Your Door. In fact, men's magazines embrace that their readers are fundamentally pretty secure with themselves and believe themselves to be kind of a catch (Editor's note: Empirical evidence suggests that this is not true for 99% of men out there).

Wanna buy a new, high-octane grill for your backyard barbecues? Dude--awesome. Your friends will be jealous and it'll be a Milf magnet. Grilling is so manly.

Wanna get that new car? Dude, go for it. Your friends will be jealous and it'll come with a pussy magnet.

Considering some sort of cosmetic waxing procedure? Dude, forget it. She'll just have to deal with your hairy manliness. Plus it'll make guys at the gym jealous (and will be a magnet for boys who like bears).

Insecure about the size of your penis? Dude, don't even worry! Most sizes are overstated anyway and it's about the motion in ocean. Don't believe us? Look, we asked this hot supermodel to confirm it...your 3 inch monster in your pants is a total model magnet.

Thinking about sex? (Editor's note: only when you're breathing, boys) Good, because everyone else is too and PEOPLE ARE DOING IT AT THE OFFICE. Dude, you're gonna have to beat away pussy with a stick on your way to the photocopier!

In short, our take away lesson here is that men's magazines are a better read because they do not make us want to purge every meal we've ever eaten, get ourselves into deep credit card debt for new threads and do make us believe that we are goddesses that every man would want to sleep with (Editor's note: duh.)

Say it with me, ladies: I'm good enough, I'm smart enough and, doggone it, women's magazines suck the big one (Editor's note: Take note, GQ--have you ever considered a coup d'etat?)