On Monday Hearst released Cosmo for Guys, an iPad-only magazine in which the editors of original Cosmo lead men on a safe-for-advertisers romp through the female psyche. To find out what’s inside, I convinced my stepfather-in-law to install the app on his iPad and download the inaugural issue. Thankfully he had only one question: “Do they still do the centerfold?”
Alas, Cosmo for Guys is both more and less raunchy than ’70s-era Burt Reynolds lounging on a bearskin rug. Multimedia can be that way? There’s nothing close to full nudity to speak of, but there is an audio guide for decoding her bedroom sounds. Is she a Faker? A Mute? A Pollster? The Faker is the best (NSFW).
To draw out the Mute, fire yes-or-no questions at her (make sure you do it in a soft whisper). If the Pollster is asking you too many annoying questions, you should occupy her mouth with your tongue.
But we’ve gotten ahead of ourselves. How did we make it into bed with one of these O-faced ladybots?
Wooing is a simple matter of give and get. Cause and effect. Lo, the dance of seduction:
Here is what women want, according to Cosmo for Guys: borderline stalky text messages, no questions when we spend too long in the bathroom, nipple biting (unless we live in Manhattan!), an indication of the spinach stuck in our teeth, cocktails containing vodka, and an Italian stallion who can move around the bed with the strength and ease of a jaguar.
And if you are smart enough to apply some Axe Buzzed Look nonsticky styling cream and some vanilla-and-pepper cologne that’s supposed to smell like Matthew McConaughey, in return you will get:
Mind-blowing sex (in 3-D!).
The 3-D feature lets you explore three different sex positions from every conceivable angle. Really it’s 2-D, and actually more like the additional views on Zappos, but with a pleasing freestyle control. Skip the advice (what is a woman’s leg crease?) and go straight to manipulating the weird nippleless human Legos in free space. If you have ever wondered what sex would look like on a glass-bottomed boat (or going downhill on a roller coaster), now you have an image for it:
CFG will also help you troubleshoot those awkward situations that get in the way of going at it. (Sex is what happens to you while you’re busy making other plans, right?)
Like, even when you go all crazy on her Helen Gurley Brown, she still may not want to go down on you. Use the same strategy you would to correct a dim colleague at work, minus the bit at the end (I think):
[N]ext time she kisses her way south, sandwich instructions between compliments: "Oh my god, that feels so good. I love when you lick up and down the shaft. Yeah, just like that, you're amazing at that. Oh, yes, it's awesome when you use your hands." If you're not going to orgasm from the effort, interrupt her with high-intensity sex...
And when she discovers porn in your browser history:
Tell her you love her, call her a goddess, and swear (as often as is necessary) that she melts your face off in bed and out.
It sounds gross, but your lady’s face-melting properties might actually make you more attractive to her. Because if you look too much alike, she could be more inclined to cheat. (And she is also likely to cheat if she owns a lot of leather-bound books, so make sure you only buy her paperbacks.)
It’s a confusing world! But you will be OK if you find the right hoodie.
See, it’s important to wear a fitted hoodie because here is a picture of Jake Gyllenhaal in one, and did you know you can also wear a hoodie under a blazer for an extrasexy look? Just don’t confuse it with a cardigan, which is the thing with buttons that should not be shorter than your shirt.
Helpfully, actual funnyperson Amy Schumer makes an appearance, in a video warning you away from neck beards and black vests. (“We love pirates!”)
You can also hear women describe their naughty times with impeccable enunciation. (Seriously, the phrase “sex session” requires focus.) Voice actors, real women, anthropology grad students? Who are you?
Oh, and here is the map about nipple biting in New York (pink is yes, yellow no).
Lamar Clarkson is an Atlanta-based freelance writer.