Because as far as I'm concerned, the stork brought me

My mother went to the store tonight and came home with a Cosmo.
She giggled with embarrassment when I noticed it through the plastic bag. "I haven't read one of these in a long time," she said. "Don't you think it'd be fun?"
I looked at the cover. BLENDED ORGASM was the most prominent phrase, big letters given prime placement just to the left of Ali Larter's airbrushed boobs. (Have you noticed that every woman on the cover of Cosmo has the exact same rack? It's like they have a paper doll set of low-cut tops and play Pin the Cleavage on the Cover Girl every month.) I considered the second-largest headline on the cover: YOU SEX GODDESS! CRAZY-ASS MOVES HE WANTS YOU TO DO TO HIM THERE!
I don't know who she thought this would be fun for. This is the woman who cut the sex Q&A out of my Seventeen with an X-Acto knife when I was in junior high, because as we all know, if you cut a page out of something with an X-Acto, sex ceases to exist. This is the polite speech therapist who cringes at swear words, lisps, and tongue-thrusts, holding a magazine about tongue thrusts. Alyse's World, consider yourself rocked.
Standing in the kitchen facing my sheepish mother, I have the urge to tell her that those are the same sex tips that were in the September 2000 issue, that they recycle them and it's all the same old crap, but I can't make the words come out because I'm fighting that urge to bolt back to the desk and find that old X-Acto.