Dear Cosmopolitan Magazine

I don’t know where you got your mistaken demographic information, but I can assure you, I am not in college, I do not need to know how to get a older sugar daddy to pay off my credit card, I don’t want to read about “the most embarrassing date ever”, I don’t care what Miley Cyrus thinks about anything, I don’t want your fashion, sex, beauty, career or lifestyle advice. I also don’t want to buy Christmas gift jewelry as seen on Ke$ha that features golden penis charms. Also, I am literate.

I already called your lame office to request that you to stop sending your “magazine” to my house, unrequested, for free. Let me put this into terminology that you people can understand: I’m just not that into you.

Have a nice time at your vajazzling party, or whatever it is that you idiots do.

I’ll return to my actual life now.

Worst regards,


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