The magazine that once empowered our mothers and grandmothers to “Spot 15 Lies Your Man Always Tells” (and helped pioneer the field of eating disorders) is still around, and apparently handing out random awards to whatever celebrities will show up to accept them. Which is exactly how I would run a decrepit shell of a women’s periodical (heh heh) well past its cultural relevance.1
To be precise, ye olde Cosmopolitan recently debuted the 2010 edition of its annual Fun, Fearless Male Awards, and let me just say, it is cutting edge stuff. For example, out of the thirteen lucky entrants into this boisterous, brave assemblage of masculinity, three play sexy, troubled vampires on film and television. I mean, who could have seen that coming, right? That, my friends, is why you can always count on a Cosmo reader to be on the cutting edge of culture.2
Other highlights:
Chris O'Donnell: Gotta give 'em this one; nothing says "fearless" more than wearing that be-nippled Robin outfit back in the day. And "fun"? He still wears it around the house.
ED WESTWICK: It isn't entirely clear why Chuck Bass here made the cut, other than (1) he's Chuck Bass, (2) he looks like Brando before he discovered Twinkies....
...and (3) he's putting it to Jessica Szohr in his off-time, which is deserving of some kind of award all by itself. I would tear that chick up, man. (By which i mean, "I would sob softly in her arms as she comforted me and the evidence of my inadequacy slowly dried to a humiliating glaze on her inner thigh.")
I mean... seriously. Damn.
STIFLER! That's right... fuck you, 1999! This world still has a place for a dude who can lose a car and chug Pabst Blue Semen.
But just as awe-inspiring as this spectacle of enlistification is Cosmo editor Kate White’s response to Crushable, concerning the definition of a “fearless man”:
…fearless is just about taking risks and knowing that one night he’s going to say, ‘Hey, I just did something kind of crazy. I got us booked into this cute inn some place. We’re going to take off right now, even though it’s late and we’re going to spend the weekend there.’
Yup. The editor of the fabled publication that seeks to enlighten young women in the pursuit and capture of lying, insufferable, utterly unfathomable men has as her personal ideal a flaming gay dude who thinks “crazy” is watching the leaves turn from the window of a B&B.
Let me help ya out here, lady. A crazy date is:
- …doing 105 in a convertible on the freeway while getting road-head from a chick with a mouthful of Pop Rocks and nose full of methamphetamine.
- …breaking into a sex shop and using every vibrator and dildo in the place on her, then putting them all back in the original packaging and leaving quietly.
- …saying, “Hey, I just did something nuts. I told that guy at the end of the bar that you’d give him a tug job in the men’s room for $25 and a pack of smokes.”
Class dismissed.