Oh, F*** Off, Cosmo

Facts:

1. Cosmopolitan Magazine is the dumbest thing to be printed on paper.

2. I buy it every month.

3. Even though I know it's complete shit.

4. The whole time I'm reading it, I talk to it like it can hear me.

5. All I ever say to it is "Oh, fuck off, Cosmo."

By this logic, people who come to my house will think I have a magical, evil car that can rebuild itself after running down my enemies.

I can has bukake?

The irony of Kim Kardashian selling a perfume called "True Reflection" has explodered my brains. That dirty whore doesn't even know what her own face looks like anymore, under all that spackle.

We can all has bukake?

They spelled 'color' wrong. And they forgot to put the word 'whore' anywhere on that page. And how come that lady-wrestler China is selling nail polish?

There's no such thing as a 'British accent,' you stupid assholes.

Maybe because he's covering up a fucking burp?

Yeah. He's probably the one raping people.

Wait -- no. There he is.