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Ever since the halcyon days of Helen Gurley Brown , Cosmopolitan magazine has billed itself as the lady's go-to source for all the vital tips

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Today in Sex: Cosmo Thinks You're a Moron

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Ever since the halcyon days of Helen Gurley Brown, Cosmopolitan magazine has billed itself as the lady's go-to source for all the vital tips needed for man-trapping. Managing to insult both the women who read it, and the prey these women are presumably attempting to ensnare, it's always been an equal-opportunity offender. Take this riveting article that was posted on Friday: "What (Not) to Stash at His House."

Among the items you should never let your beliked see is the eyelash curler, because apparently it'll make him think of your face as "a construction site." Never mind that I've yet to meet a straight guy able to pick an eyelash curler out of a lineup.

Because it's sticky and icky, hairspray is verboten, as are any of the various potions, waxes and tools of hair removal. Because men are apparently stupid and think that you're the rare bird that was born hairless, except for the mysteriously well-kempt mop on top. The exception to this last rule being "A sleek, high-tech feminine razor that will make him picture your silky legs." Or, more likely, cause him to shriek in pain after he mistakes your razor for his.

Things on the Cosmo-approved list of leave-behinds include "tinted lip balm and blush," which the magazine promised would "spark his imagination" (huh?) and a couple of funky, brightly colored hair elastics. "He'll think Ponytails? Sexy!" the author promises.

Um, no, he'll think "rubber bands . . . how come they're purple?"

But in the interest of being servicey, I thought I'd offer a non-gender-/sexual-persuasion-specific list of things you should (not) leave in your new man or woman's apartment:

• Your Zovirax or other STD-related prescription drugs. If your date finds out you're contagious the hard way, this is going to be your one-way ticket to Ouchie Town.

Skid-marked or period-stained panties. Even your normal laundry is a lame thing to leave for your new sex partner to deal with, but when it's streaked with your genital mess? Yuck. Prolong the romance--stuff the evidence in your pocket or throw it the hell out if it's that nasty.

• An unlocked cellphone--especially if there are photos or texts you'd rather they not see. Even if your stud muffin isn't a snooper, they are (hopefully) human. What better way to get to know your date than to check their camera phone function?

• Your journal. Again, even if they're nearly superhuman in their dedication to privacy, they're going to at least thumb through the pages, looking for mentions of themselves. Let's hope you're flattering!

• Any questionable fetish items you haven't had a chance to mention yet. Bringing up the idea of nipple clamps during a hot and heavy makeout is going to get a better reception than if she finds them wedged between your cellphone, Zovirax-encrusted journal and shit-stained manties, hours after you've gone home.

(Please note, those aren't actual skid-marked briefs, they're a safe designed to be so foul that even burglars won't look beyond them.)

 
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