On Thursdays I’m taking the liberty of playing Monday Morning Quarterback. For these posts I’ll take the opportunity to add another part to my column, criticize myself, respond to comments and/or do whatever else I feel like doing.

“We are a community of kiss-and-tellers, and frankly I’m starting to get tired of it.”  
 
Didn’t you write the “grundle” column last week, recounting *that* story?

Last I checked, I didn’t mention the actual names of people who licked my grundle.

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A lot of you guys got a little riled up over the Bangkok prostitute line. It’s funny. I didn’t even think when I wrote that line people would get agitated by it.

1) Have you ever seen stand-up comedy on t.v. or live? You’re telling me that you’ve never laughed at any of those jokes?

2) No one actually addressed the issue as to whether or not it is possible for a Berkeley student to get as much action as a Bangkok prostitute.

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I really wanted to give a prediction in the Daily Cal’s Gameday Issue for the 112th Big Game. The Jefe--Jeff Goodman--turned me down faster than an NBA GM would nix the contract of an aging veteran coming off of microfracture knee surgery.

Luckily I have “Thursday Morning Quarterback.”

My prediction is that Cal and Stanford will keep it close until Cardinal running back Toby Gerhart rumbles ahead for a touchdown in the fourth quarter. Final score: Stanford 34, Cal 24.

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Acoustic Cover Song of the Week

I love acoustic covers; I don’t know what it is about them but I find myself listening to them way too much on Youtube so I thought I’d give my favorite acoustic song of the week a little shout-out.

I’m loving the group effort here for I Want it That Way. If only I could convince my friends to gang-up on girls around campus to randomly accost them with oldies.

If it seems bizarre to talk about your prior sex partners with friends, it’s about a million times stranger to share that information with your current bed-buddy. Assuming that what Mustafa says is true, that we name drop with our friends in order to foster a sense of adequacy, then what does it mean when we tell these stories not just to our best buds, but to the people we’re actually involved with? Does a fling with a model make you any more attractive—not really. The last guy you were with wrote a novel about the torrid romance you two shared? Awesome. Save that for Dear Diary time, not let’s-get-to-know-each-other, first date exchanges. The person you’re with wants to hear about you, not a rundown of your top 10 sexcapades. There is no surer way to turn someone off than by talking about past flings, exes, or that one night stand from a few weeks ago—even if it is the funniest story ever.

Some people claim that it’s okay to compare past with present so long as it’s complimentary to whomever you’re with at the time. I disagree. Even if it’s a flattering comment (”Oh my god, you’re such a better kisser than my last boyfriend!”), you run the risk of encouraging cockiness. On the other hand, if you mention how you spent a semester getting cozy with a top-notch athlete, your current beau might start feeling as though there are expectations that he or she is supposed to meet. Either way, by sharing a play-by-play of your sexual history, you inadvertently create a meter stick of sorts, with one lover not quite being able to measure up to another. And if you continue with this risky mentality, your partners might start feeling like just another notch on your belt.

Image Source: evansent under Creative Commons

One thing that always confuses me about men is how they respond in your typical lady versus tramp matchup. You know the type—short shorts, belly-button piercings, thongs that stick out, and of course, the classic lower back tattoo. From her overly made-up face to the platform heels she’s soldiering, this girl just exudes OBVIOUS from her every orifice.

I’ve seen guys take one look at girls like this, laugh and mutter, “tramp” under their breaths. Twenty minutes later, though, they blow past classy-looking ladies, then try and pull some moves on the girls they previously mocked. Maybe it’s the raw vulgarity, maybe the perfume they’re wearing is laced with some infatuation-inducing potion, but something about these women is curiously appealing to men.

Rather than continue coming to my own conclusions about this particular phenomenon, I decided to go off in search of some cold, hard facts. After questioning several willing chaps about the tramp attraction factor, I was left with a few intriguing answers.

Some confirmed the seemingly inexplicable lure of the tramp:

“Girls who look like that tend to be experienced. They look like they know what they’re doing. It’s hot,” said a no-nonsense J. K.

“Easy sex,” was the unexpectedly candid response I received from K. G.

Others denied the existence of any desirability altogether:

“Trampy girls just aren’t attractive—I’m not into them, and I don’t actually know that many guys who are,” A. S. declared firmly.

The answers that I got were hardly conclusive and left me nearly as puzzled as when I began. Nearly. In order to make any sort of insightful final thoughts, I’ll simply say that everything boils down to personal preference. We all find different qualities attractive, and for some, those qualities just happen to be ripped Daisy Dukes and acrylic nails.

Image Source: shesaleo under Creative Commons

While sex is hardly a forbidden topic on college campuses, between health events focusing on sexuality and weekly columns in newspapers we could mention. But even so, we weren’t really expecting the Graduate Theological Union, located just north of UC Berkeley, to take up the topic. It turns out we were wrong.

The school’s conference, “Sex and the Shtetl” concludes today. (According to Google, a shtetl is a “A Jewish village or small town, especially one in Eastern Europe,” for those of us not conversant in Yiddish.) The events are part of the Seventh Annual Eli Katz Yiddish Conference and this year the topic is “Gender Roles, Erotic Practices, and Marital Structures in Yiddish Literature and Ashkenazic Culture.”

Lecture events are free and open to the public, and on the menu are discussions of “Sexual Traditions, Modern(ist) Practices” and “The (Sexual) Politics of Yiddish Poetry.” Saucy. There will also be a film screening at the Pacific Film Archive later in the evening. More information, including specific times and locations, can be found on this site.

Image Source: feastoffun under Creative Commons

We always hear about the dangers that accompany premature sex—horny tweens pushing the envelope and taking things just a bit too far past what they probably should—but it’s rare that we take notice of the opposite side of the spectrum. I’m talking about those who choose to wait until later on in life before popping the cherry. Sure, there’s the occasional joke about the “40-year-old virgin,” but by and large, it’s not a topic that receives a whole lot of serious dialogue.

Well, if Columbia University’s researchers have anything to say about this, things are going to change. Their research gives them reason to believe that waiting too long before becoming sexually active can be related to sexual dysfunction. Those with a later start, “[m]en who lose their virginity in their 20s, in particular, seem to be more likely to experience sexual problems that include difficulty becoming sexually aroused and reaching orgasm,” reports an ABC News story.

It’s possible that this correlation has more to do with a sense of shyness than anything, though. Researchers are considering that an individual with insecurities regarding body image, commitment or established sexual dysfunctions may be more inclined to delay their “sexual debut.” Additionally, the study discusses the link between the body and the mind and the psychological impact that abstinence-only education has made in this field.

Overall, it seems as though this research is primarily focused on illustrating the trends of sexual activity rather than pushing forth any sort of agenda. Regardless of personal beliefs about when to start or how long to wait, science has begun to show that poor sexual health is linked just as much to the late bloomers than it is to those who seem to have jumped the gun.

Image Source: rollenran under Creative Commons

Banana bear. Honey bunny. Snuggle bug. Cupcake. Whatever happened to calling people by their actual names? I understand that when you’re in an intimate relationship with someone, the urge to participate in cutsey couples-only activities can cloud your judgment, but before you dub your girlfriend “Boo” or your boyfriend “Babe,” consider how they might feel about the identity shift. I guess if both parties involved are truly down for taking on a sugary-sweet alter ego, then this is probably bound to fall on deaf ears. If, however, you hold reservation of any kind towards being called “Sweetie Pie” for the rest of your relationship, then this blog is for you.

Names are a big deal. You’ve only got one, really, so people are allowed to be particular about what they’re called. That’s how I feel, at least. To put it simply, nicknames are not my thing—call me baby, and I’ll probably turn right around and walk away. And don’t even think about shortening Jillian to Jill.

I think that there’s actually some secret voodoo about couple-constructed pet names that actually changes the personalities of the individuals who adopt them as their own. Take, for instance, your typical couple, Bobby and Jane: as soon as Bobby calls Jane his “baby girl,”(or something else that is equally off-putting) she morphs from perfectly normal to some eerily perky and overly-affectionate character straight out of the fifties. It’s almost as though the name itself alters the individual—and this peculiar effect is not limited to the female population either!

So it may seem boring or lacking in creativity, but (unless they specifically ask you to do otherwise) try to call your significant other the name they introduced themselves with when you first met. Call me old fashioned, but I think it’s pretty sexy when a guy addresses me by my actual name.

Image Source: chotda under Creative Commons

OK, so we already knew that. Now even North Texas parents know it, though, so there is a new wind blowing. Texas is one of the worst states in the nation for teen pregnancy rates, in spite of their extremely expensive abstinence only education. In point of fact, it spends more money on abstinence only sex ed than any other state. Thankfully, though, they’re starting to look at alternative ways to educate teens about sex.

Parents, generally slow to approve liberal sexual health programs in their children’s schools, are even getting on the abstinence-plus train. One parent in particular actually looked for the word “condoms” in the “glossary of a state-approved health textbook.” She couldn’t find it. It’s as if rubbers don’t actually exist. “Where’s the word?” she demanded.

More disturbingly, students have recounted the past attitude of administrations on sex ed. “They kind of just say, don’t do it,” one student said in the article. “And before prom they say, ‘Don’t go to Motel 6.’”

Good advice in general, we would think, although the administration clearly meant this to be an anti-aphrodisiac. It’s extraordinarily hard to believe that this kind of eloquent advice did not work on lusty, bored teenagers.

Texas sex educators take tentative steps beyond abstinence [Dallas Morning News]
Image source: blmurch under Creative Commons

The other day, I sat down at an open computer, only to notice several of my coworkers crowed around a mysterious package. I got up and walked over to the cluster; it turns out that the package was hardly mysterious. In fact, it was actually a sexy goodie box that had been sent to the office, courtesy of Trojan. It was Trojan’s annual “sexual health report card,” 2009 edition, and boy, was it informational.

This list, a ranking of sexual health among colleges and universities nation-wide, was accompanied by a variety of condom samples—“Her Pleasure,” “Thintensity,” “Magnum.” you name it, it was in the box. After sifting through several inventive styles of condoms, found what I was looking for: the annual report itself. I opened up the report card—yes, an actual report card on heavy paper, not unlike the ones we were given back in elementary school—and scanned the list.

The top five rankings were given to University of South Carolina, Stanford University, University of Connecticut, Columbia University, and Florida Atlantic University. After seeing Stanford so high on the list, I was a bit bummed that our cross-bay rivals had managed to come out on top, so I continued on to find our beloved Cal.

I skimmed the top ten to no avail, so I moved on to the next dozen or so—no dice. And then I found it: this year, UC Berkeley ranked 41^st. On the one hand, that’s a whole ten spots higher than last year, on the other, 41^st is a solid quarter of the way down the list. Needless to say, I was shocked. How could a university that is filled with some of the most brilliant students in the country (and in the world!) possibly have such poor sexual health? This appalling statistic makes me want to go door-to-door, harassing people about condom use—kind of like the Girl Scouts during cookie season, just with a twist.

I figured, this blog is probably a faster way to spread the word, anyhow, so please, please practice safe and healthy sex! Use protection, get tested, talk to your partner about these things! If nothing else, do it for our Trojan rankings, because 41^st is nothing to brag about.

Image Source: amboo who under Creative Commons

I feel as though this one is pretty self explanatory, and if you’re still shaky on the basic premise, well, there’s really not much that I can say for your sense of morals. That being said, I’ll start with a reflection.

Back when we were mere pipsqueaks, our parents taught us not to take what isn’t ours. For the most part, I think that they told us this in the hopes that they wouldn’t have to check our pockets every time we walked out of a shop (why storeowners continue to place trinkets within arms reach of children, I have no idea). But also, because, they genuinely believed that stealing is just plain wrong.

Years later and a few inches taller, I think the same basic principle can be applied to the world of pursuing a romantic interest. It’s common courtesy: if someone is already in a relationship, you should probably direct your desirous attentions elsewhere. I realize that we can’t always help whom we fall for, but we can exercise some control over whom we actively pursue. If you’re lusting over a guy who’s not only attractive, but single too, then score. If not: you can either wait around for his current relationship to end (which can be a long and oftentimes tedious process—and then there’s always that possibility that they will be that one couple that are together forever) or, you can go for someone else, someone unattached. It’s like those pre-movie public service announcements condemning piracy—you wouldn’t steal a purse, so why would you steal someone’s boyfriend?

The IT Crowd -- Anti-piracy ad [erickjfrost]

On Thursdays I’m taking the liberty of playing Monday Morning Quarterback. For these posts I’ll take the opportunity to add another part to my column, criticize myself, respond to comments and/or do whatever else I feel like doing.

One tidbit of the interview that I wasn’t able to include in the column because of space limitations:

Mustafa Shaikh: Do the same laws for alcohol usage apply to marijuana?

Kevin Beecham: Not really. The thing about marijuana is I would think it’d be really hard to prove that a woman was so high that they couldn’t resist. Alcohol is a different beast.

Somebody can get really sick, really drunk and kind of lose control of themselves when they’re drinking alcohol. I haven’t really seen that with marijuana.

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I laughed at the fact that all of the comments I got from this week’s edition were in reference to the preface to the actual meat of the column. Do any of you guys actually have a reaction to rape laws?

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LOL Bob Dole. First off, your comment was hilarious. Second off, the response to your comment  from the reader defending me was even funnier. Third off, I already said I would buy you a beer in my last Thursday Morning Quarterback.

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I feel like it has been a very tough transition from a lusty female who so delicately described her feelings mid-dorm-shower-sex, to a (for starters) male who has not given any recount of emotional sex …

What about raw, organic sex where the only intoxicant is the smell of each other’s skin, the heat of the other’s breath on your neck, and that tingling sensation down even every muscle fiber of your body…. Ah, R.I.P. Carmel…

What is this, a Harlequin romance novel? Anyone can write that stuff. Note:

“I recall this one-time after a most romantic evening in which I followed the  loveliest of ladies down to my basement. Her footsteps echoed through the corridor and only heightened the anticipation for what was about to transpire.

I continued to follow her with my ever watchful almond-shaped eyes. For a few seconds I dared to shutter my eyes just so I could be led on by the utter sweet fragrance that drifted from her auburn hair. After those few fleeting moments I was forced by my innards to gaze my eyes back on her for the emotions conjured up by her hair were too powerful for me to dwell on.”

Not too bad huh? And that was after five minutes.

I think you actually inspired me to write a column. I’m going to base it on sex elitists who are of the belief that if sex isn’t taking you to some higher level of being, you’re doing it wrong.

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