There are famous scenes from movies depicting it. There are Facebook bumper stickers dedicated to it. There are songs that shout the praises of it. There are how to articles and, hell, it even has search results on Wikipedia. Yet for the entirety of my life, the closest I’d come to Sex on the Beach was double fisting them on Friday nights. This had to change.

With the advent of summer upon us, I decided it was high time I was no longer a sex on the beach virgin. I grabbed my manfriend (chuckle chuckle, Carrie Bradshaw) and headed to the shore.

It was a perfect night for just being at the beach, let alone hooking up. Full moon, light breeze and crashing waves. Very romance novel. So boyfriend and I wandered along the beach until we found a secluded(ish) spot.

When we got there, however, I found that I could have done with some good advice before embarking on this adventure. So for all you beach bunny virgins out there contemplating some sea-side action, here is what I wish my experienced girlfriends had told me:

Bring a Flashlight: Luckily for us, the moon was enormous and lit our way pretty well. I happen to be completely blind in the smallest amount of darkness, though, and was petrified of stepping on baby sea turtles. If it’s even semi-cloudy out, a small light should help you navigate. Read More »

In the tradition of the Thumb Wrestling Championships, the World Rock Paper Scissor Tournament and the National Beer Pong Tournament, we have another contender for the most insignificant and socially irrelevant pseudo-challenge. Ladies and gentlemen, step right up- it’s the National Texting Championships.

I love a fun-spirited competitive romp of cult cultural activities. I’m a thumb wrestling champ and a beer pong aficionado. Many crucial decisions in my life have been decided by a rousing game of rock paper scissors. But I simply must put my foot down with this National Texting Championships. Read More »

Michael Moore, documentary filmmaker of “Fahrenheit 9/11″, Bush basher, and “way fatter in person with no neck to speak of” (FYI from a friend who sat in back of him at the movies), is coming out with an “election guide” — just in time for the Presidential race.

Mike’s Election Guide, a “manual mockery for the 2008 Presidential election”, will no doubt be full of the snide, polarizing, and sometimes funny comments Moore has made a career out of making.

Will he crack a lot of jokes about McCain being as old as Jesus’s sandals (hey, thats a good one!)? Will he go after Obama’s young, rabid fans who have decided to vote for the guy based purely on some YouTube video full of really sincere celebrities (hey, another good one!)? Will he throw in some jabs about Bush being stupid? How about a chapter devoted to how politicians are all the same and why voting for UFO loving Kucinich is the way to salvation (and medicinal marijuana for all)? Read More »

After hearing about KY Brand’s new Yours & Mine couples lubricants, I was mildly intrigued. After seeing a few more ads in magazines and one semi-funny commercial, I decided to investigate via Google.

What I found was an intricately designed website that made this lube look like the kind that astronauts would use… if they found time to do the dirty while in orbit. Extra-curricular NASA activity aside, I decided I had to try it.

I went to my local Target, dragged my boyfriend to the pharmacy aisle and asked if he was game to test drive it. $18.09 (!!!) later, we were opening up our high tech pleasure pack.

The box reflects the same “couples only” mindset that all the other marketing for this product does, which I find pretty inconsiderate of any loyal single KY customers. Slogans for Yours + Mine include “The best thing to happen to sex since love” and “It takes two…To make magic. To make love.” KY makes no effort to sell this product to those engaging in casual play.

The lubes come in 1.5 oz test tubes (they’re a lot smaller than I thought they’d be, considering the price) that faintly glow in the dark. This unnecessary (but awesome) trait earns the product bonus points with me and boyfriend, as both of us are easily amused.

Boyfriend, a biology major, gets into the whole playing scientist scheme with the test tubes and obeys the box’s directions to use “Mine” (the pink one) on me, while I use “Yours” (blue) on him. Read More »

There’s not too much about this bar that is different from any other midtown hangout. The lights are dimmed, the music is eclipsed by the steady drone of polite chatter, there is a distinct smell of polo sport and a single yawn dances contageously around the room. In any other bar, I wouldn’t have even stayed for a first drink…except that in the middle of this southern-style dive there is a mechanical bull.

Yes, a bull… as in, the land-faring version of a shark… so unpredictable and deadly that has generated sensational cinematic classics. When is Speilberg gonna make a “Western” version of “Jaws”? The time is now.

The place? Johnny Utahs.

It appears that until this moment, only a few guys had dared to take on this mechanical snorting monster. Self-induced humiliation can certainly be appreciated, but the crowd starts losing interest after realizing the predictability of how this battle of man versus beast will end.

Until… UNTIL!… the crowd parts. Laughter preceeds her entrace into the ring as a girl in a short skirt giggles sloppily toward the bull. As she makes an attempt to mount this robot-beast, something remarkable happens to the crowd. Read More »