For a college in stereotypical Smalltown USA, I always thought that good ol’ WAC was a good progressive college, accepting of just about anybody. True, I’m in the VAST black minority in my school, even if they’re attempting to up the number of enrolled black students. But no one really seemed to ever judge me (and if they did, they did an awfully good job at hiding it), and it’s part of why I love my campus.

But I’ve noticed something that has become so frequent that it happens at least twice a week. I don’t know if it’s because we have such a large freshman class that doesn’t know me as well as the rest of the upperclassmen, or if it’s something else, but while I’m walking to lunch, at a club meeting, or in a popular hang-out spot with my girlfriend, whether we’re just holding hands, play-flirting, or giving goodbye kisses, I’ve been catching several looks. And most of them are of utter confusion and/or disgust.

After well over a year of being with my girlfriend, it’s not exactly breaking news that we’re going out. We’ve gotten looks from some upperclassmen before, sure, but it was never so frequent or so extreme as it is now. And I’m certain that these looks aren’t being given to other heterosexual couples, or even other interracial couples (which, unless they are well-hidden, I have seen none of).

It’s bad enough that when I’m home, I can barely bring my girlfriend up in conversation without feeling awkward. But to be on campus, walking down the street and holding her hand and being gawked at like we’re some kind of traveling freak show? Read More »

I wish I were gay.

Well, no. That’s only a little bit true. That’s actually barely true at all. I don’t want to be saddled with unfair prejudice in the workplace, social and religious spheres, and military. So let me refine that statement a bit.

I wish I could be into dudes.

Not quite the same thing, really. I’ve always been a fan of the Kinsey scale when it comes to human sexuality, since “gay” and “straight” are so painfully restrictive. So let’s just say I wish I could ding my rating up a few points or two.

I’m perfectly happy with women, of course. Ladies, you guys are great, and I mean that. It’s not like I’m not getting enough variety in my sexy diet or anything. And honestly, friendship-wise, I tend to be one of those wimpy boys that has more female than male friends and always gets called “a really nice guy”. So what’s up, man?

Why the thirst for testosterone?

It’s a matter of principle. See, I’ve always believed that gender expression is mostly socialized. Girls get dolls, boys get dump trucks, that sort of thing. Switch them around and little girls would grow up to be seven feet tall with full Thoreau neck beards - no kidding, man. And from a very young age, us dudes have basically been told: “Hey! Check it out! Boobs!” Read More »

You know how every once in a while, nothing is on TV, and you’re super bored, and maybe it’s a Friday night and you have no plans, and instead of doing something productive like reading you flip around on your remote and end up watching the Disney Channel? Yeah. Don’t deny.

There’s nothing wrong with a little mindless television for kids, but what happens when you find yourself inexplicably drawn to those fresh-faced young men chirping out that positive and life-affirming Disney dialogue? You feel weird and a little dirty — and then you go online and try to find pictures. Also, any info that would allow you to stop feeling like a pedophile: i.e birthdays before 1991.

Even though all of the nubile young things listed below have all surpassed their 18th year, I can’t help but feel just the slightest bit Creepy-Old-Man-On-The-Bus whenever I look at them. Oh well. What can I say? If there are shirtless pics of these hotties somewhere on the net, I’d look at them.

I might even download. Read More »

Q: I’ve had boyfriend my entire life, but I can’t help feeling attracted to some of my straight girl friends. Am I bi?

A: My instinct is to answer your question with “Maybe. Who cares?” and leave it at that, but I’ll try to do my job and actually advise. That said, I can’t tell you whether or not you’re bi. I think it’s possible that you’re crushing on your female friends because it’s a safe way to explore same-sex attraction—since they’re your friends and they’re straight, the chance of a hookup happening is minute, meaning you can admire/lust from afar.

But I also don’t think a few same-sex crushes necessarily have to mean something, and I hope you don’t feel pressure to immediately define yourself as soon as you catch yourself staring at a chick with a great rack. In the interest of full disclosure, I should say that I did make a brief jaunt to the other side myself. It was fun, and that was that. When I told a few friends about my tryst, I got a range of responses: amused, disgusted, curious, and shocked. A lot of them asked the question I hadn’t even bothered to ask of myself: “Are you bi?”

The answer? No, not particularly. But who knows, maybe by next month I’ll be marching in gay pride parades wearing flannel and waving a rainbow flag. The point is, I wasn’t interested in dissecting What It Meant, not for me, and certainly not for the benefit of others. Read More »

So, last weekend after the utter embarassment of stuffing my thighs and stomach into a pair of too-small boxer shorts, I looked back on the situation and had to laugh. Like, ROFL, laugh. (Ew, did I just use that lingo? I feel like I’m 12.)

Yes, it made me feel a little hefty next to my Manorexic friend, but that sh*t was funny. And it is only one of many mortifying hook-up stories. Let’s be honest - two drunk and horny people heading home to a dark bedroom is a total recipe for embarassment and hilarity. And it seems I am not alone in this one. This week we asked our writers to contribute their most humiliating hook up stories. These will totally make you LOL.

Elizabeth – Baruch College: I once awoke with a boy (having not remembered how he got to my bed) only for him to tell me: “You’re bleeding everywhere.” Thinking I had gotten my period, I was like, “Oh god, sorry, dude.” But to my surprise, it was my back that was bleeding. During our rampaging sex, apparently, I had fallen onto my computer plug and it impaled my back. I still have the scar. Fact.

Blair - Gettysburg College: My sophomore year me and my boyfriend got. it. on. and then passed out naked on the couch. We woke up awhile later when his roommate and friends came back late-night (with pizza!) and found us in the buff.

Kate Bean: Up until the age of… well… last weekend, I had thought queefing was just a normal side effect of great sex. In the past, guys acknowledge this sex toot with a little chuckle or nod of the head. APPARENTLY not all guys are so familiar with the experience; I actually had a guy glare at me. GLARE! Little did he know, my vagina was glaring right back at him in disappointment. Read More »

Dudes prefer a size 10

Really? He’s still alive? I could have sworn he was long gone. …Or maybe I was just wishing.

Cheap drugs in Mexico? Not anymore

Screetch to write a Tell All. Seriously.

Straight up weird: identical everything.

The Billionaires want you to STOP SMOKING

Jason’s baaacck!

…And so is Freddy (Which means both my toolshed and my dreams are no longer safe)

Dana Scully kicks ass

50 Cent don’t play, Taco Bell!

Oh man, Zac Efron…how is this helping the gay rumors?

So we are finally in the dog days of summer (which I realized when I went for a run at noon). Some of us are working, going to school, or schlepping around interning. Others are laying by the pool sipping sangria (*jealous*). But, I think we can all agree that a break of any kind is welcome. Especially when that break is a trip to somewhere cool, offbeat and–the best part– cheap. So pack your favorite flip flops, airy sundress and camera and head somewhere, anywhere but here. Might I suggest any of these destinations:

Isla de Vieques, Puerto Rico.
This 21 by 5 mile island is referred to asIsla Nena by residents, loosely translating into “virgin island”. Located only 6 miles off Puerto Rico’s coast, it is a hotbed of natural beauty and tropical activities. You fly onto the island after flying into San Juan, Puerto Rico, so be prepared with a your iPod, a magazine, eye mask or Valium–whatever it takes to get you to board an 8 seater plane to Vieques Airport.

Once you’re on the island, you can stay anywhere ranging from $90 a night B&B’s to luxury hotels, so whether you’re on a typical college budget, or you happen to have a trust fund, there are accomodations for you.

Activities on the island include: hiking, snorkeling and diving, biking, fishing, sightseeing and dining in Bravos de Boston, Vieques’ most fashionable town. However, the highlight of this destination is definitely its Bioluminescent Bay. The bay is filled with phosphorescent microorganisms, that glow in the dark when disturbed. Nighttime charter boats take you on a guided swimming and kayaking trip to the brightest bio bay in the world. If you’re looking for a tropical getaway that won’t break the bank and is off the beaten path, Vieques is it. Read More »

Say, have you heard of Camille Paglia? If not, good news: it turns out that you are not old. You’ve also, apparently, managed to avoid the massive headaches that she’s been inflicting on thinking people for the better part of the last two decades. Now, for the bad news: she’s back, and she’s aiming to annoy the world once more.

Here’s the deal: Camille Paglia was the Ann Coulter of the ‘90s. She wrote a book, Sexual Personae, which dealt “shockingly” with issues of sex and gender, in that it basically re-iterated the talking points of idiot wife-beaters across the nation. (Here’s a sample quote: “If civilization had been left in female hands, we would still be living in grass huts.”) This book turned her into a popular media personality, and spawned countless essays and TV appearances; she was the go-to girl when conservatives needed to call upon some random crazy to bash women.

The peak of her career, of course, came when she took it upon herself to defend rapists, by saying that women who got drunk or wore skimpy clothes in the presence of men deserved to be sexually assaulted, because men simply could not be expected to contain their awesome sexual power. In her words, “woman’s flirtatious arts of self-concealment mean man’s approach must take the form of rape.” Read More »