As a bonus for using his credit card, my housemate earned a free 12-month subscription to Men's Fitness magazine. This past week, we received our first issue in the mail, so I decided to take some time out of my day to introduce myself to each of the 144 glossy pages contained within.
About 30 minutes later, I came to the conclusion that Men's Fitness is the lowest form of literature that humanity has to offer.
Let's start with the cover and work our way through this monthly disaster. First, there is a picture of a guy with his shirt off, and he's giving me one of those "Yeah, I just took a dump in your shoe, what are you gonna do about it?" looks. I immediately hate this man.
Not surprisingly, the cover story of this issue of Men's Fitness tells us how to carve six-pack abs, as it has for every issue since its inception. I open to the first page in search of the "54 Ways to Give it to Her" article that was also promised on the cover.
Later, I would find that no such article exists within the boundaries of the magazine. Bummer, I guess it's back to putting The Octagon back in the ole' spasm chasm.
I stumble upon an article on how to get your girlfriend to watch porn. It contains the following insightful advice:
"The key to introducing your girl to those special-interest videos? Make her feel like she's the sexiest woman alive."
Great advice. Hey, baby, did I ever tell you that you are much better looking than one of those sleazy porn stars? By the way, I'm going to turn on this porn during intercourse to help fill the sexual void that you leave.
On page 54, I discover "A Guide to Her Glutes." This article tells men just how to play with a girl's biscuits throughout intercourse:
BEFORE: "Tell her what a beautiful ass it is - no matter what it looks like ... tell her you just want to bite it."
Great advice. Hey, baby, did I tell you that your ass, although resembling the giant pumpkin that won first prize at the county fair, is beautiful? Oh yeah, can I chew on it for a while to savor its pumpkiny goodness?
DURING: "Keep your hands busy; try alternating between loving pats and loud skin-on-skin smacks."
Great advice. If you're into experimentation, try smacking with a fly swatter or other household object.
AFTER: "Go back to caressing and adoring her beautiful glutes. Use a light petting motion ..."
This is all terrific guidance. The only thing this story fails to tell the reader is what to do when your girlfriend asks, "Why the hell won't you stop playing with my ass?"
Page 58: A magnetic piece on how to keep it hot but casual at the same time. This tip really caught my attention:
DO: "Be sympathetic when she's sick. Tell her to call you when she feels better."
DON'T: "Insist on bringing her soup or checking to see how her sore throat is. She has girlfriends for this."
Now, I always thought that girlfriends were lifelong companions who provided each other with a sense of openness and trust. Who would have thought that they exist simply to check each other's throats for soreness? Get a life, Men's Fitness Magazine.
Ahh, page 86. My feelings regarding page 86 are best summed up in the following haiku:
Hello, 86; I want to cast a fire spell; on your creator.
In short, page 86 is where the authors decided to stop telling the readers how to act like complete morons, and began to tell them how to dress like complete morons. What fashion has to do with fitness, the world may never know.
On page 92, we rocket back to the world of learning to act like a dolt. The geniuses of Men's Fitness give away one of their golden tips for dating: "When it comes to dating, always resist the temptation to change. Instead, intensify your personality: If you're shy, take a book to the bar."
If you decide to follow the magazine's advice, I suggest you take the book, "You Are a Complete, Utter Wasteland of a Human Being and Lack Any Sense of Reality, Whatsoever," by Jeff Volinski.
Somewhere around page 100, Men's Fitness becomes littered with body-supplement advertisements. For obvious reasons, an advertisement for the product No-Xplode caught my attention. I can see the testimonials now:
"I've been using No-Xplode for six months, and I haven't exploded once yet!" - Andrew, Texas.
"Are you tired of people exploding and spraying vile intestinal gore all over your workout clothes? Encourage them to use No-Xplode!" - Frankie, Connecticut.
"I hope a bomb doesn't eat it!" - Your average Men's Fitness Reader, Unfortunately Everywhere.
Well, that's about it, really. If you want to learn how to be an idiot and how to think of women as objects, then this magazine is for you. I'm finding it difficult to form sentences now because Men's Fitness has made me dumber. I stop pushing letter-buttons now and go away. Hello.
Jeff Volinski is a senior majoring in mechanical engineering. He can be reached at Jeffrey.Volinski@tufts.edu.