Moose imagines an Eva Mendes/Jamie Foxx movie, premium talent trades and a trip to the dentist to explain this week’s topic.

All You Can Eat Buffet

Mustafa Shaikh

Ladies-especially those of you who think I’m a sexist-you’re going to thank me for this one.

For whatever reason in our society, there is a commonly held view of how sexual interactions should progress. Very basically it is as follows: kissing, feeling, feeling of the privates, blow job, maybe cunnilingus and finally intercourse.

Notice “maybe cunnilingus.” For whatever reason, the concept that a man should be pleased orally while a woman should not necessarily be similarly pleased has become ingrained into contemporary sexual practice. Without going on some extended philosophic rant about phallism, I’m going to encourage all you sexually active folks to pay a little more attention to

Read the rest of the column here or in Tuesday’s paper.

Image Source: rednuht under Creative Commons

Though I’m fairly new to the world of blogging, I’ve quickly discovered that inspiration always seems to strike in the most unexpected ways. My latest idea, for example, was formulated largely by a lengthy discussion that went down yesterday in the wee hours of the morning (kudos, fifth floor). The conversation was centered about the idea that there should really be a list of sorts for discussing acceptable sexual practices for the average college student, and so the Ten Commandments of College Sex was conceived.

Over the next few weeks, I’ll be discussing the 10 most essential principles that surround the sex culture here at Berkeley. From who’s off-limits to what, precisely, certain locations imply about relationships (as I like to say, you don’t go to a frat party looking for a boyfriend), the Ten Commandments of College Sex cover all the bases and then some. Of course, none of these are set in stone—there’s almost always a loophole or at least a little leeway—for the most part, I created them as guidelines for those who are uncertain about oh, I don’t know, pursuing a relationship with their assigned lab partner. Hopefully, the 10 CoCS (have fun sounding out that acronym) will serve as an amusing way to maintain a sense of ethics in the midst of all the frivolity and decadence that our lovely hook-up culture provides. Get excited.

Image Source: JorgeMiente.es under Creative Commons

After reading Mustafa’s latest, it became all too clear to me: problems arise when different people hold diverging ideas of what constitutes as sex. Is sex any situation in which a penis has entered the vagina, or only when said penis stimulates orgasm? What about oral—do blow jobs count? Do both parties have to come for sex to be legitimate, and what if it’s more of a one-way situation? With such a vast assortment of definitions (and believe me, that was just the short list), it’s no wonder that confusion—and awkward situations—occur when one person’s understanding of sex doesn’t quite match up with that of their partner’s.

I remember a conversation that I had with one of my high school friends, let’s call her Anna. She was conflicted about a relationship milestone she and her boyfriend had recently passed and was looking for someone to ease her troubled conscience. As a good Christian girl, Anna chose to merely give her boyfriend a blowjob rather than offer up her un-popped cherry, so as to maintain her status as a virgin. In the most literal sense of the word, I agreed that Anna was still a virgin—the girl did keep her legs closed—but I have the feeling that a God who has some pretty strong opinions about premarital sex probably does more than just frown upon sticking a penis in your mouth (that part I kept to myself).

In my attempt to clear up any misunderstandings on the matter, I referred to the Merriam-Webster Online Dictionary (convenient, and more trustworthy than, say, asking Jeeves) for an official explanation. They define sexual intercourse as an act “involving penetration of the vagina by the penis.” So there you have it, plain and simple. Spread the word, too; we don’t want anymore sexual mishaps than there need to be.

Image Source: Michael Keen under Creative Commons

Over the course of the semester I’m going to take the liberty of playing Monday Morning Quarterback, on Wednesday. For these posts I’ll talk the opportunity to add another part to my column, criticize myself, respond to comments and do whatever else I feel like doing.

I found it interesting that Stop, Do Not Pass Go did not receive much of a reaction. It took all the way to 8:50 pm for me to finally receive a comment to respond to, and well, there’s not much to respond to.

Yeah, it would have been so easy for the girl to say, “Hey I don’t want to have sex,” as in- NO- but really mean to say “ooh yeah baby, I like it, or “poke around there for a little bit” because obviously she’ll like it anyway. And how kind of you, after she has already made her position very clear about NOT WANTING TO HAVE SEX WITH HIM to say that “Campanile would then have had the opportunity to decide whether or not he wanted to continue, given the circumstances.”

I guess some people, or more likely just this person, missed the fact that I was joking in what Pimentel could have hypothetically said to Campanile prior to penetration. What I wasn’t joking about is that she should have said something to him.

I’m kind of confused with the commenter’s second point. Given the hypothetical situation in which Pimentel would like Campanile to insert in her, Campanile should be able to say yes or no to Pimentel’s proposal, no? If Campanile didn’t have a choice and Pimentel went ahead and did whatever she wanted without his consent, that would be rape.

I going to come to the conclusion that this person came into the article wanting to attack it and just didn’t take the time to carefully read what I wrote. Nice try though.

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My editors and I are in a constant battle over the sports metaphors and anecdotes that I use. As it should come as no surprise they made me change a couple from this past week.

The A.C. Green line originally read.

Now I’m all about arguing over semantics, but for the time being let’s say Dwinelle has some evidence to back-up her claim that what was taking place was not sexual intercourse and thus she was as clean as A.C Green (Option A: What? Too obscure?) (Option B (for NBA fans): How funny would it be if Green shared Dwinelle’s views on virginity. This entire time we were led to believe that he was chaste during his career only to find out he was dropping his johnson into women all the time.)

It didn’t really bother me too much to drop Option B because as a consolation my assistant editor said that I’m allowed to write an article based on A.C. Green’s story. Holla at you boy.

There is, however, a second change I was asked to make that I do regret. Originally in place of the Backstreet Boys story, I had a line about pick-up basketball.

Even if you’re having casual sex with someone, making such bold demands after insertion is highly inconsiderate and plain selfish. Could you imagine starting a pick-up game of basketball in which after your team falls behind 0-3, the opponents declare that the winner is the first to five points. You would be pretty angry, wouldn’t you?

I’m not exactly sure how to pinpoint it, but it just flows better with basketball instead of backstreet boys there.

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So I went online to check out some of the comments I was being left, and I was mildly amused that Google Ads connected my article with a banner ad for the movie “I Hope They Serve Beer in Hell.” Tucker Max, the author, basically writes about the shit-show that is his life, and while I haven’t read the book, his blog is pretty amusing.

Either way, when I heard it was being made into a movie, I called that it was going to be a train wreck. After watching the trailer I am pretty confident that I’ll be right on this one.

Here’s the opening quote from the trailer. Mind you that trailers for comedies usually open up with one of their best lines, and well just try to imagine how good this move can be since it’s all going downhill from here.

Tucker, “Watcha doing?”

Girl, “I’m talking to the turtles.”

Tucker, “Are they telling you to kill the fat girl behind us? Because that’s what they’re telling me to do.”

Girl disgusted by Tucker walks away.

Tucker, “What how can you be mad about that? Fat girls aren’t really people.”

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Here’s an excerpt from a comment left last week after Wednesday Morning Quarterback was published.

Dude, this stuff is pure fiction. nobody believes this stuff because you can tell it was written by some guy whose knowledge of sex is limited to the “articles” in porn magaizines [sic].

If I understand this comment correctly, this person is claiming that I made up the entire story of myself being involved in a long-distance relationship? I’m not quite sure how to respond. Am I supposed to feel offended or laugh?

With the annual Folsom Street Fair just a few days away, this educational workshop on BDSM, titled “Let’s Get Kinky: BDSM 101″ offers prospective attendees to “come (and) get all your kinky questions answered.” But it’s not just about question-and-answer:

“We’ll cover the whys and hows of BDSM, have a kinky sex toy show-and-tell, and teach you how to talk about and safely explore your own fantasies.”

If you’re interested, it’ll be held on Thursday, Sept. 24 from 5 to 7 p.m. at the Section Club Room in the Tang Center.

Now that’s kinkier than stampeding cattle … through the Vatican.

Image Source: arimoore under Creative Commons
Let’s Get Kinky: BDSM 101 [Facebook]
Let’s Get Kinkky: BDSM 101 (pre-Folsom edition!) [UCBLJ]

This week, Moose shows us why it’s important to be on the same level as your partner before anyone has regrets. Let’s just call this a common-sense way of avoiding blue balls.

Stop, Do Not Pass Go

Mustafa Shaikh

Up until recently, I always thought that once a penis enters a vagina, the deal is done. Both parties have passed the point of no return-cherries, if still intact, are now popped and love-making ensues.

That was all before last week when a friend of mine, who was clearly disturbed, came to me with quite the stunning tale.

My friend, Campanile, and his lady friend, Pimentel, decided one night to move beyond fingering and dome. Campanile, rather excited by the new development, quickly rolled on a rubber and went right into

Read the rest of the column here or in Tuesday’s paper.

N.W.A -- Express Yourself [TheZombie8]

“My GSI looks like Megan Fox!”

Despite only having known my friendly across-the-hall neighbor for exactly nine days, I had never heard him sound so excited. His giddiness did not go unnoticed by many that day, and so the great “who has the hottest GSI?” debate began. Apparently, in addition to the mastery of a specific subject, sex appeal has become a prerequisite for being a Graduate Student Instructor. And in light of that, the conversation went something like this:

“My GSI runs marathons—and has the body to prove it!”

“Mine looks like Ryan Gosling, but without all the scruff!”

“Mine … is really good at astrophysics … ?” Long pause. I guess it’s not quite the same.

To my great dismay, I discovered that I was the only one without a little eye candy to help pass the time during discussion sections, and to be perfectly honest, I was at a loss for words. How is it possible that my EECS-major friend (EECS, for goodness sake!) got to ogle a Megan Fox look-alike on a weekly basis, when the most interesting pastime in my Wednesday section is to watch the guy in front of me doodle in between his notes? Where’s my Ryan Gosling or Jake Gyllenhaal to teach me the significance of electromagnetic radiation for astronomers? It seems as though the GSI crush is a quintessential part of the Berkeley experience, and I don’t want to miss out. Is it too late to switch sections?

Image Source: C.S. 2.0 under Creative Commons

Over the course of the semester I’m going to take the liberty of playing Monday Morning Quarterback, on Wednesday. For these posts I’ll talk the opportunity to add another part to my column, criticize myself, respond to comments and do whatever else I feel like doing.

After looking at the comments you guys left on the online version of “Time to Cut Your Losses” I realized that I forgot to explain a key component of the article.

Let’s just say Breena and I did not have much in common apart from boning on the reg, and well, boning on the reg.

I’ll go into this even more in-depth in a later column, but right now I will say that when we were going out, there were certain things we shared. That all changed when our relationship turned into a long-distance one. Frankly, it became all about the sex.

I honestly believe that most college-aged people in long-distance relationships like to think their connection with their significant other is extremely deep when it really is not. We’re not at the age when we can really value or know what it means to have a deep connection with another human being, let alone one who we see every other month.

So how do we learn to value such abstract concepts? Through experience. You’re not going to develop personally if you’re stuck in some long-distance relationship, which is why it is time to move on to the next chapter, nay, next inning, of your life.

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One reader wrote,

Ironically long distance had the opposite effect for me. Certainly, at first we were the “must devote all free time to phone calls” couple, but after freshman year we became comfortable with the distance. Now I feel that I have the freedom to be my own person and enjoy college because I can’t be with my boyfriend all the time. Instead, I have to cultivate a social life outside of the relationship.

I never really thought of a long-distance relationship playing out this way, but it makes sense. Instead of always spending your time with your loved one, you are forced to go and hang out with other people.

Only issue I have is all the time wasted on the phone, and traveling back and forth to see each other when you could be spending it with other people. I guess my argument could be classified as one of efficiency combined with a doubt that what you and your partner have is really something that you can’t find with the guy sitting next to you in class.

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One more thing, big ups to Matt Goodgal on his 22nd. I bounce a lot of my material off of him and he usually proofreads my stuff. This past week he was too tired to read-over my latest installment, and lo and behold, there is a typo within the first sentence.

What’s worse for freshmen than being thrust into an unfamiliar environment, not knowing anyone and being forced to live with strangers’ quirky sleeping/waking habits for a year? How about having to deal with all that while dragged into hour-long long-distance phone conversations with your significant other every day, effectively stunting any growth of a social life you wanted? Yep, that’ll do it. But for the hopeless, there’s light on the horizon. It’s time to cut your losses:

Time to Cut Your Losses

Mustafa Shaikh

Alright freshmen, after my last column which featured arguably the most entertaining quote you will ever read in the Daily Cal, I’m assuming I have you hooked. Well, that’s a good thing because this column addresses an issue that many of you are currently dealing with.

Unfortunately a good number of you younguns’ made the mistake of coming to college with the intent of keeping a long-distance girlfriend. (Note for the rest of the semester: whenever I say girlfriend, feel free to substitute boyfriend in there; it’s just annoying for me to always account for both sides, not to mention the wordiness.)

You’re not a trailblazer by any means-heck I was in the same predicament three years ago. It took me a while, but I learned soon enough that

Read the rest of the column here or in Tuesday’s paper.

Image Source: Jason Nicholls under Creative Commons

Hey guys, turns out I’m going to be your Sex on Tuesday columnist for the fall semester—I guess the competition was pretty weak. Judging from your reaction to the first installment (well technically the second), you guys can live with me.

I’d like to take this opportunity to welcome back to SoT the straight male audience. For awhile, you, we, I, have been neglected by SoT. We’re not looking for some abstract concepts related to sex, just a story here and there that leads to a larger point with a few jokes thrown in. A-->B + C =.

Let me show you what I mean. Here is a what last semester’s Sex on Tuesday writer, Carmel DeAmicis, wrote in her column “The ‘Stripper’ Effect.”

“We are torn between mainstream culture, which tells us to bare all, and the reality that our sexual expression still exists in a power relationship. When we pull on the tight dress or dance on the stripper pole, men usually aren’t right there with us, mutually engaging in the chemistry of the moment. We are on a stage, performing a gendered self for the audience. “

Carmel you seem like a good person and a much better writer than me, but what in the world does that mean?

I feel like I either need to be a woman or have a background in social psychology to decipher half of the stuff written by past SoT columnists during my time at Cal. It would be akin to watching Telemundo every time I want to see a Latin soccer broadcast—stuff gets lost in translation. (Gimme a break, I couldn’t write my first SOT blog post with at least a single sports analogy.)

One reader commented,

“No offense, but looking forward to having a guy write this article for a change. The women have been way too cerebral about it. Talk about banging, that’s what everyone wants to hear any way.”

None taken.

That being said, I’m not going to completely neglect the needs of females and the gay population; just replace a few pronouns here and there and all of the sudden you’ll see that the article takes on a universal voice.

Well folks, male, female and everything in-between, that’s all I’ve got for now. Check back next Tuesday.

Welcome back, welcome back, Betha’s back (You know you like that)
Welcome back, welcome back, Harlem’s back (You know you like that)