FHM : If Downs Syndroms had a guidebook .

Humanity :When not conspiring to evade each other's anal cavities , we engage in all sorts of bazaar behavior . One of these is recording the human condition in form of “the magazine” .

Now as a young , middle class man , society would have you believe I'm represented by FHM . I'd like to take a few moments to debunk this misconception .

Something tells me FHM doesn't take me very seriously as an individual . Rather FHM labours under the impression that I am in fact a drooling idiot , because week after week it seems to imply my sole interests in the universe lie in fake mammary glands .

Now , It's not that I have anything against breasts . On the contrary I'm something of a fan and “nipple count” is high up there in my criteria when I'm decision making for choice of magazine . But shockingly even the wonders of “chest fat” has it's limitations . When someone has gone to great efforts to insert bags of toxic silicon into themselves , some of the “magic” is lost for me , for example .

I suppose it has something to do with preference . I prefer my women not to look like drag queens . Why then , dear god , does FHM insist on lacing their pages with fake blonde haired , baloon chested “women” with faces smeared with enough make up to do a crack whore proud ?
The poses are real classy too . You might even call them sutle (if you were a rapist) . Once you have allowed all this glorious beauty to soak in , FHM allows some insight into the “girls” world via a brief interview .

The critical , insightful interview always evolves around those tough philosophical and ideological ponderings that have always baffled the great thinkers of our species . When complete one will never again need to look to the sky's and beg the answers from the god's as to whether “she has done it with another girl”! Nor will one ever again need to grapple with questions such as “does she wear underwear” or “when did she lose her virginity” . Sarcasm aside , it's safe to say it's possible to actually die from lack of brain activity while reading FHM .

Then , if you survive the interview section without your defense mechanism kicking in repressing your memory of how to read . You still have some tough obstacles to over come , before you can triumphantly turn the last page , raise your arms and declare “I piss in the face of danger and good judgment!”.

No obstacle however is quite so scary however , as “the sex advice” column . Firstly , one can be sure of little in this crazy world , but you can bank on this wisdom : Nobody reading a column offering advice on better sex is getting laid . Ever . I shudder to think , and weep from pity , for all the girls out there who's boyfriends are putting FHM's advice into practice . Right about now the poor horny mix just wants a good ramming , but Don Juan there is insisting they need to spice up their love life through “better communication” , while he sets the silk sheets on fire , with the candles in a comedic attempt at “romance” . Man , people suck .Not people , just other people .

The cruel irony is once you have bought FHM , you will want to do nothing more that use it to wipe your bum . But in a clever added level of cruelty they print it on sharp , glossy paper so that even this pleasure and privilege is selfishly ripped from you .

If one were to take monkeys and put them into a room full of type writers , and left them there for 5 minutes they would come up with something better than FHM .However , in fairness that's based on the assumptions that they would actually shit on the paper .

Yes sir and madams .Fuck FHM . Fuck South African FHM , with their pathetic efforts at copying the other version and adding in some pathetic local slang . Dickheads.

Fuck them right until the day they decide to publish my articles , at which point , of course : redemption .