Sunday, August 30, 2009

"Read this. It'll make you miserable... just like everyone else."

On my way from the Salt Lake airport to Rexburg, my ride (Salt Lake Express) made a pit stop at a gas station in Brigham City. The bus lady informed us passengers that we only had time to use the restrooms and buy a soda before heading out again. In my rush, I decided that grabbing a girly magazine would make a promisingly dull ride home more tolerable. The only two available were In Shape and Cosmopolitan. Since I'd rather flip through pages of skinny girls who don't eat (anyone can do that) as opposed to women who work for their killer bods and put all of us (me) to shame, I chose the Cosmo. As the journey home trucked on, I realized that, in my haste, I had failed miserably to consider the content of this "reading material." Since I've never purchased this particular magazine, I stupidly bunched it with the rest of today's fashion magazines. I soon realized that not only was it different, but Cosmo is a notably risqué magazine. So there I was, a married woman sitting on a well-known-to-be Mormon passenger carrier flipping through a magazine that I had obviously found worthy to purchase in order to fill my mind with all kinds of dirty tricks. Not only was I embarrassed, but I didn't even enjoy this $5 rubbish because I dreaded turning each page, as I didn't know what kind of picture or intimate heading was going to catch the eye of the 18 year old freshman behind me. 
I can honestly confess that Cosmopolitan magazine is not a fashion magazine. It is pornography in its purest form which targets young, teenaged girls. It is tasteless, talentless, and offensive garbage compiled by the most miserable journalists in attempts to earn miserable company. They make their fortunes through goading girls into ruining their lives by placing frivolous sex on the same pedestal as popular fashion. 
Am I feeling a boycott?
Yes.