Maxim Says the Darndest Things: September 2010 Edition

“Lindsay Untamed”? Shouldn’t that just be “Lindsay on a Wednesday”?

There it was, hiding behind a few GQ magazines on the top shelf in a florescent lit aisle of Target.  I stood on my tippy toes and extended my arm to reach for the red letters and glossy pages of Maxim. And as I lifted the thin magazine by its pages and into my view, my mouth dropped and a sourpuss equal to those of Sammi Sweetheart washed over my face.  Why, you ask?

Lindsay Lohan was touching herself in a skimpy, striped, frilly swimsuit on the cover.

But, do not fret; I must have been exuding some good karma lately because a bonus mini-mag inside this month’s issue appeared in my fingertips: ‘Maxim Campus Cuties: The Hottest College Girls In America.’ Anndddd, in the name of all things good looking ladies, Maxim has redeemed themselves. Let’s get reading.

This month, Maxim showed old people some love when they dedicated a small article to our wrinkled warriors called, ‘Hooray for Old People!’ In it, grandmas and papas shared some hilarious tales, like the time that one granny drove her kids around on the top of their Buick. That brought on the LOLs. In Maxim’s monthly sex article, they actually provided us with a purty hilarious bit called ‘Just the Tips.’ It featured silly sex advice from various magazines (Editor’s Note: Like this one, perhaps??) and some hilarious stories about a Maxim author trying them with her boyfriend. One of the quotes from the story to give you a little insight: “When it comes to massage his legs with a rolling pin, I balk. Who do they think I am, Betty freaking Crocker?” You can only imagine the turns that article took. Amazeballs.

Of course this magazine was packed with Fantasy Football dream teams, fun gadgets (like drills and aural pleasure headphones), half nakie pictures of La Lohan (um, put a scarf on or something, cupcake), and action shots of airbrushed NFL cheerleaders bouncing their goodies on trampolines.

Anyway, let’s get to the good stuff.  My favorite article to cue the giggles was called, ‘How to Tell If You’re Dating a Russian Spy.’ Sh*t, there goes my cover.

Maxim Says: She fidgets. Touching her face…playing with an object in front of her…these are indicators of a liar’s stress.
Brittany Says:
Let’s sink back down to real life. Real life as in, you guys just went on a date to Cucaracha Cantina and splitting the Rockin’ Burrito wasn’t such a good idea. TMI, maybe. True life, all the way.

Maxim Says: Her face is full of it. For example, she frowns when she says I love you.
Brittany Says:
If she frowns when she says ‘I love you,’ I doubt she’s a Russian Spy. Actually, why don’t you Russian spy your ass into figuring out why you’re still dating her.

Maxim Says: She talks like Bob Dylan. Mumbling and talking faster than normal might indicate she’s desperately trying to rush past answering questions.
Brittany Says:
First of all, leave Bob Dylan out of this. He wasn’t a Russian Spy, now was he? I say become concerned when she starts talking in a British accent and shaves her head…Brit Brit, I’m talking about you girlfriend.  Russian Spy or not, that shiz is just cray-cray.

Maxim Says: She squirms. Does she seem uncomfortable when you bring up the subject of, say, spying? If so, switch topics to baseball.
Brittany Says:
If my boyfriend brought up the subject of spying on a normal basis, I would be a little uncomfortable too. Hey honey, this isn’t ‘James Bond: License-to-Quiz-Your-Girlfriend-About-Silly-Sh*t’ got it?

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