Smarter than Stuff, more PC than FHM and sharper than Razor--it's the men's magazine with the most, Maxim. And I'm addicted.
All right, Yber-feminists, you can calm down now. I'm still on your side. Objectification sucks, we demand equality, I completely agree. But I can't help smiling when I realize those girls on the cover are being paid way more than any of the guys writing articles. And speaking of those writers, half of the Maxim staff? They're women.
Maybe that explains why every month, Maxim tells its men how to deal with the most important thing in their lives: us. The magazine has more tips on crushes, dating and sex than even the most rabid of teen Ozines. True, Maxim never mentions love or marriage, but what girl isn't sick of "Quiz: Is He the One?" At least Maxim has the guts to ask, "Is he the one for tonight?"
Take a course in soft-core. Read Maxim. Easily accessible in boyfriend's bathrooms around the country, Maxim can even lead to female self-discovery. I mean, who knew we had not one but four g-spots?
Props, Maxim, for your intimate views on the male mind and the female body. Our boogie nights in your honor will not soon be forgotten.
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