Oh, Maxim. You make it so easy to laugh at you. Today, when purchasing this month’s Maxim, I was charged like six dollars. I paid six freaking dollars for a 30-page magazine full of naked women. With that kind of price I’m not sure how Maxim is still in business. I mean, porn is mostly free now. Anyway, they made their cover a little interactive this month with a busty blonde in a trench coat with flaps, and when you open the flaps – BAM! She’s throwing open her coat to reveal a very skimpy Americana themed Bikini. Every guy’s dream girl. Also, in tiny print beneath her legs reads the tagline “This issue is 75% pants-free.” Well, good…because who likes pants? I don’t.

Other winners in this month’s Maxim are Nascar’s Smokin’ Hot Cope Twins and the hometown hottie Dominique (who also is their cover girl) is the “Sexiest Thing in America.” It literally says “thing.” Not “girl,” but “thing.” I believe that’s all I need to say on that issue.

I don’t know if you’re aware, and by aware I mean can-look-past-the-half-naked-women, but Maxim prints jokes every issue! Grandpa’s Dirty Joke this month, “Two girls are drinking at a bar. One says, ‘If I have another drink, I’m going to feel it.’ The friend replies, ‘If I have another I don’t care who feels it.” Honestly, and this is probably hypocritical of me, I was kind of expecting the jokes to be raunchier. I mean, it’s Maxim for Pete’s sake! Maxim also sings praises for my favorite movie, Bridesmaids, in their own little version of The Maxim Oscars. My favorite quote, “Anyone who uses the movie to start a debate about ‘Are Women as funny as men?’ needs to be punched in the face, ideally by Kristin Wiig.” Well took you long enough, Maxim. We’re hilarious. Read More »

This month, Maxim is ready to deck the halls in cool man gadgets, girls from England and France in their underpants and crazy sex tips that will make every single man look like a jolly blue-balled Santa Clause. Who’s ready to dig in??

In Maxim, the holidays call for stuffing her stocking with gifts she really wants to unwrap. Nope, contrary to popular belief — Maxim is not telling its readers to buy the ladies a real puppy, the entire set of Shatter O.P.I. nail polish and a life supply of sweet red wine (what we really want). Of course, Maxim turned Christmas into an opportunity to get kinky and ‘jingle her bells.’ By jingle her bells, they mean use nipple clamps, do the deed on moving objects like trains, play follow-the-porn and try new positions. Whatever Maxim, way to feed all the men out their false hopes about what women want in bed. My advice? Give her a glass of Riesling and turn on some old school Maroon 5. I’m sorry, but that totally gets ME all hot and bothered. Read More »

I always love Maxim during Halloween because they write and feature the craziest stuff possible. Need proof? The first two headlines I laid eyes on for October’s cover were: ‘A Polar Bear Ate My Head,’ and ‘Secrets of Lesbian Sex: How to Get in on the Action.’

No wonder I grabbed the last issue on the newsstand. Men want them some gore and girl on girl.

As silly as Maxim can be, they do have some pretty funny one-liners littering their pages. And speaking of lesbians –  see case A: this distant birthday wish. Maxim says, “My lesbian neighbors asked me what I wanted for my birthday. They gave me a Rolex, I think they misunderstood when I said I wanna watch.”  Giggles. I can’t lie, that’s funny.

As for the hawt women dressed in lace for October, I couldn’t help they all had old lady names. Agnes…Yvonne…Regina…is there a cougar jaguar fantasy that I don’t know about?! One thing I do not know for sure, is how all of these hot chicks are getting by eating creme puffs and In-N-Out burgers all the time.

Beyond creme puffs and greased up lady-thighs, I ran past a few articles featuring bad ass weapons and a few man movie reviews. I barely made it through the ‘Polar Bear Ate My Head!’ article after the second page featured an actual picture of the dude’s mauled head.  Seriously, google it or something. Suddenly you won’t want that creme puff anymore…

Then, I landed on the page every man scrambled too before they could even get out of the magazine section of the gas station (and ended up in the bathroom alone); ‘The Superhot Secrets of Lesbian Sex.’  It’s cute how every man thinks they can casually sandwich themselves in a lesbian experience. Doesn’t anyone watch Jersey Shore anymore!?! Read More »

Alright, lets get real. The minute I saw the headline, ‘Sofia Vergara’s Little Sister’ on the cover of September’s Maxim, I got a little lady boner. Sophia Vergara has a little sister? Fall always brings me great little surprises in the form of crunchy leaves and new-found saucy women to look up to.

Yes, I just said I look up to women in Maxim. Hey, if anyone can pull off a mesh, wet, white swimsuit and slicked back hair, they deserve a nod on my behalf. She must have had sworn off toast for over a month. Golf clap.

Anyway, as I began to plow through the magazine looking for a little Vergara heritage, as usual I came across a few questionable articles. Whenever I read Maxim, along with staring at hot chicks, I learn the most random facts in the world. I never knew men were so interested in totally irrelevant and pointless information. Here’s a few random facts for you: Did you know Illinois recently passed a law that allows residents to pick up roadkill? Did you know the worst smell in the world is actually human fecal matter-according to a cross-cultural (real) study? Um, gross. That means human poop smells worse than, say, a dead beached blue whale. Humans really are disgusting. Read More »

August has GOT to be one of the best months out there for dudes. And I’m just going off of the subtitles on the cover of this month’s Maxim magazine. Between Shark Week, hot and humid Skype sex, free beer and a half naked chick on a beach – I don’t know what else any guy really needs (aside for maybe a napkin and a cigarette – hehe). But I’m sure Maxim thinks they know, so let’s get digging.

After paging through the awkward ‘Maxim Office Assistant’ photos (think, girl spread-eagle cartwheel past the printer) and a page dedicated to large bicycles and office pranks, I landed across the lovely ‘Ask Maxim’ page. This month, I learned how fat you need to be to actually…explode. Maxim’s answer? Apparently someone’s stomach actually ruptured after eating 19 pounds of food in one sitting. I need to be careful the next time I order Taco Bell at 3 a.m.

This month’s ‘Woman With a Tool’ featured a leggy lady carrying around a weed whacker. This is unrealistic for two reasons. One, no lady in their right mind would weed whack with shorts on (do you have any idea how much that hurts!?) Two, any guy in their right mind is going to want more than a machine to do the whacking, if you catch my propane-powered drift. Read More »

I woke up in a full on hot sweat last night and I’m 50% sure it’s because my new Maxim Hot 100 June edition was sitting triumphantly next to my bed. I’m going to dedicate that other 50% to the fact that the temps have been sweltering outside.  Geez, Maxim really knows how to drop it like it’s hot. Get it? Drop a magazine issue like it’s . . .hot. . .outside. . ? Ok, moving on.

Either way, Maxim really knew how to throw my emotions off kilter when dedicating an entire page to donuts for ‘Donut Day’ (which happened to be June 3rd, if you were blissfully unaware). My theory is that donuts are good for you because they are mostly air. Man, I need to go on a diet.

A few articles later, Maxim decided to help the unemployment rate by hiring a ‘Maxim office assistant’ and taking photos of her licking envelopes and dropping off mail in her underwear. You aren’t helping the unemployment rate, Maxim. I’m seriously considering quitting my job so I can pass my dictation test in my booty shorts.

After paging through a motorcycle gallery and a “Girl With a Tool” aka straddling a lawn mower (ummm, dangerous?) I came across another article where a lubed up chick biting her finger claims she loves pasta and meat balls for dinner! I’m over it. I hate spaghetti and meatballs – and yet I’m still putting on my jeans laying down. One of my favorite articles was called ‘Maxim’s Rules for the Grill’ (especially since I can barely cook a kabob without burning down the entire city). What did I learn, you ask? Basically, grilling is all about chilling. If you remember anything ladies, remember this. There is no drama at the grill. Lots of beer. Meat only. And (my personal favorite): “Fat equals flavor, both in grilling and love making. That’s what I’ve been telling my wife anyway.”

Tisk, tisk, Maxim. Tisk, tisk.

Finally, after reading about how Cameron Diaz thinks the word ‘sex’ is the sexiest word out there (woah, original – I think ugly is the ugliest word out there), I came across the token Maxim sex article daringly called, ‘Enter At Your Own Risk.’ The main focus for naughty advice this month?  Getting with the one woman you want most- the one you absolutely should not. Hope you brought your wet naps because things are about to get dirty.

Maxim Says: Your roommate. Adjust to her schedule so you can bond. Does she wake up at seven to do yoga? Get up and make coffee. She likes to watch American Idol? Make it your new show.

Brittany Says: Or, don’t bust your balls to hang out with someone you live with. Getting with someone shouldn’t be such a science if you breathe the same room oxygen as her every day. Yikes.

Maxim Says: Your intern. Make her feel like one of the gang. Invite her out with more established colleagues and give her legit work to do.

Brittany Says: Sigh, so much I could say about this but I’ll stick to simplistic and sweet. When Maxim says work to do, they really mean sending her back and forth to the printer to see that business suit from behind. According to the unemployment rate though, she’s apparently licking envelopes in her under panties. Someone deserves a promotion!

Maxim Says: The Out-of-Your-League Crush. Give her the right kind of attention. When other dudes dote, be casual. If they treat her like a trophy, act like you’re on the same level. She’ll find it refreshing.

Brittany Says: Pshh, treat her like a trophy just like the rest of ‘em bro. She probably deserves it.

Maxim Says: Your best friend’s ex. When women go through a break up, they love nothing more than talking about it. He was selfish? You love giving foot rubs! Play his opposite and you’ll be the new boy in her bed in no time.

Brittany Says: Do guys really do this? I mean, after all of those games of Socom, chugging Coors together and pounding Jimmy Johns sandwiches while gazing into each others eyes…do they really sacrifice THAT connection for…sex with a totally off-limits chick?  Who am I kidding? That probably sounds a helluva lot better than squirting mayo on their BBF’s Play Station controller.

Whenever I go to buy my Maxim magazine every month, I always end up purchasing random manly things to go along with it.  No, I don’t lift my Maxim from the rack and rush to buy some Gold Bond and a wax cloth for my… car, but I’m almost there. Today, I bought Maxim, skin-on hot dogs and five dollar parachute man-elastic ankle sweatpants. Here’s to expressing your male strengths, ladies! Sometimes ya gotta kick back in noisy pants, bite into a hot dog and read about Socom 4 and Lupe Fiasco.

While doing just that (with mustard dripping on my chest), I discovered something about Maxim and the women in it. Are you ready for this jelly? Here it is: Remember in high school college when all of your friends would make stripper names out of the street you lived on and your first pet’s name?  Well, you can do the same thing with Maxim cover girl names.  All you have to do is pick your favorite Disney character and your favorite weather element.

Mine is Belle Thunder. BOOM.

Go ahead, try it.

After you get a good laugh, come back to me.  We have a lot to discuss about this month’s May-day in Maxim.  First of all, another day, another dollar article dedicated to a girl with cute butt creases saying “I can’t handle a guy that is scared I’m a big eater!”  I’m serious, this is what she actually said. Or didn’t say; how can she talk with a mouth full of collard greens and fried chicken?

Later, I found a pretty hilarious article giving guys the low-down on creating a 5-second beach bod. Maxim’s advice? Strap an ice pack under your wife beater to give the illusion of a six-pack and enhance your nether regions by tossing a paper-towel cardboard tube in your underpanties.  But, Maxim advises to stay clear from the Christmas wrapping tubes as  those may attract horses.  Well thank heavens! Christmas tubes at the Kentucky Derby this month could have been lethal and extremely awkward for everyone involved! Read More »

I’m really happy spring is finally here. Reading a Maxim magazine during those long winter days just made me really cold. I don’t know about you but nothing about laying around in lacy panties and bronzer makes me feel cuddly and warm. But higher temps and the lack of clothing on women that comes with them aren’t the only reasons I’m excited about this month.

April showers at Maxim bring 8,000 women in one bed!

That’s right, the annual sex survey is here!  Maxim is gracing us with thousands of women and their deepest sexual secrets.  It’s slutty and I like it.

Before we get to the good stuff, though, let’s take a look at everything else?  First, Maxim taught us ‘How to Put Out a Grease Fire,’ which was extremely interesting because I clearly would have enough sense when I’m lighting my life on fire to attack it with baking soda and call 9-1-1.  I accidentally called 9-1-1 at work the other day and I can’t find my own mascara in the morning.  Do I sound like the person that would conquer a spreading grease fire?

In the monthly special, ‘Woman With a Tool,’ Maxim provided us with a seriously hammered girl holding a….you guessed it….hammer.  But don’t worry, she’s wearing steel-tipped panties.  Hoo-hah-hum. Clever, Maxim.  Want another gross visual?  Imagine Jason Biggs half-naked with sushi all over his soft, white man-chest.  Or just buy a Maxim and turn to page 46. Read More »

Do you guys remember that little strawberry blonde girl with the yellow cape and intense middle part that ran around with a magnifying glass in Harriet the Spy?  Well, she left little mystery this month on the March edition of Maxim. Let’s just say you don’t need a magnifying glass to look for Michelle Trachtenberg’s ta-tas.  And um, pretty sure she got rid of the yellow raincoat.

I was excited to dig into Maxim this month.  Somehow the magazine has been a monthly treat I have come to look forward to. It gives me the same feelings I get when I eat a big, gooey brownie  – indulgent, satisfied, and really, really guilty.

I learned a lot in this month’s issue of Maxim, starting with Michelle Trachenberg’s deepest and darkest secrets. (Seriously, her photo shoot looked like a vampire True Blood fantasy). Maxim taught me that contrary to what I learned in  Bambi, people really are not hornier in the springtime. Dag nabbit, Thumper!  How do you explain how my eyelashes grow and thicken so I can bat them at all the hotties in their Sperry’s every May? I also learned that it’s easier to give birth in the warmer months, hence the call to boning when the weather outside is frightful.

I was born in the warmer months…
Um, ew. Read More »

If I fell into a Dunkin Donut coma for five years and someone gave me this month’s Maxim magazine upon opening my eyes (and requesting a Boston Creme), I would immediately want a beer, a boob job, and a witty man-child that could tell me jokes all the time (or just all day during V-Day, while he fed me bites of deep dish Chicago pizza).

All in all, this magazine makes me want to be a brand new woman.  A woman that understands what men truly like in tools and snowmobiles, how to defeat Call of Duty Black Ops, where to find the best American bars and how to get laid and live forever.

Aren’t those things just the sneaky little tidbits every girl wants to know about…?

If I had that capacity as a women (to authentically care who the first person was to catch a touchdown at the Super Bowl) I feel like I would find so many more opportunities in life.  Opportunities that presented themselves in the form of men that wanted to worship me, that is.

If only I could spew out cool facts and advice just like Maxim does…or become as ballsy as Spanish women who, according to Maxim, are two times more likely to hit on men than American women. (Maybe it’s got something to do with their culture, but I have a feeling that has more to do with the fact that every word in the Spanish language is just sexier than their American counterparts.  Take the word ‘poop’ for example. Translate it into Spanish and – boom! – you have ‘caca.’  Instantly more sexy.  Or maybe that’s just me…) Or master the  ‘Maxim sultry pose,’ or, as I like to call it, ‘The Maxim Sauce.’  Nearly every nakie chick in the magazine encourages me to try to smile with my eyes (like Tyra taught me) and lay sideways on my bed so my thighs don’t touch and my arm flab sits effortlessly behind my rib cage. Read More »