I used to really enjoy Cosmo.

I subscribed to it for a while in college.

But I’m pretty sure I’ve bought my last copy. This magazine has issues, and more than just monthly kind.

According to www.hearst.com the magazine is described as: “Cosmopolitan is the lifestylist for millions of fun, fearless females who want to be the best they can be in every area of their lives. Cosmopolitan inspires with information on relationships and romance, the best in fashion and beauty, the latest on women’s health and well-being, as well as what is happening in pop culture and entertainment…and just about everything else fun, fearless females want to know.”

Yeah, okay. I’ll give ‘em most of that. Most of it.

I’m not sure that it promotes us (females) to be the best we can be when it comes to relationships. This past issue (June 2008) has an article entitled “How to Snoop on Your Man (Because Sometimes You May Have To)”.

We are talking about an ENTIRE four page spread on how to find out information about your guy without actually asking him. They teach you ways, with the help of environmental physiologists, to snoop around his stuff to find out what kind of person he really is.

Some of the suggestions are harmless. Like looking in his shower stall, DVR, and freezer. From these things you can tell if there is another woman in the picture by items such as a pink razor and Lean Cuisines. I, for one, check the shower stall of every bathroom I use, strictly because I don’t want anyone to be in there while I pee.

Some of the suggestions can SEEM harmless. Like looking at his stack of bills for late notices, his end-table drawer for comic books, or his digital camera for compromising pictures. These are things that he really should share with you himself. Anything you find here probably comes with an explanation and could easily be misconstrued. The late notices could be something he’s trying to get out from underneath, the comic books for his nephews, and the pictures just friends. I mean, come on, we’ve all taken those ridiculous shots after WAY too many Long Islands…

Then there are the just plain ridiculous. His gym bag for condoms? His medicine cabinet to Google what he’s taking? His sock drawer? Computer bookmarks and history? The junk spot where he empties his pockets for receipts? Wow, that is sad.

What really takes the cake for me though and pushes us beyond the nosy and into the stalker category are the following: his hamper for stains and smells, his date book for name patterns, his wallet, his cell phone bill, and, GET THIS, his trash.

Okay. I’m not perfect. I’ve Googled my fair share of guys. It’s paid off. Can we say the “single, childless” guy who was trying to come over for a quickie that turned out to be married with kids?
But I would never pick through the trash to see if he flosses. I won’t even root through mine…

Is this rant long enough?

I guess what I’m saying, ladies, is that if you don’t trust your guy enough that you have to stoop to snoop, maybe you should reconsider the relationship as a whole.

No guy is worth poking around dirty underwear.

Not even Tom Brady.

Okay. Maybe Tom Brady.