As I sit here alone in my apartment listening to “Let?s Get it On,” surrounded by scented candles, I can’t help feeling like a dumb blonde in a cheap porno awaiting the arrival of her burly boyfriend. As sad as the pathetic plot lines of today’s mainstream porns are, at least in the porn the girl would actually be getting laid. Instead, I remain alone, candles rapidly melting while I try to decide just what exactly the college students of Madison want to read about sex.
An obvious answer to many horny individuals out there would be a column detailing sexual tips and advice on perhaps persuading a chosen candidate to copulate with them. Sorry to say, folks, this column is not here to dole out sex tips as tired as the actors in those cheesy porns, but rather to provide readers with a little “stimulation” every week. I am here to discuss and reflect upon one of the most intimate experiences an individual can undergo.
Oh, who am I kidding? Sex is fun, and anyone who’s ever had the pleasure of either their own or another’s company knows what I am talking about.
The sheer ecstasy of fornication is the force behind the majority of pop culture?s success, as well as a constant distraction to the student body at large. Where would Marvin Gaye, Al Green and even Britney Spears have been without that carnal craving for copulation?
Sex is everywhere and with good reason. What other activity allows the individual to focus completely on their animalistic, sweaty desires and release some of that frustration and anxiety of the daily grind (no pun intended)? The answer is, none. Sex is the only activity that allows us an erotic escape from reality.
Is it any wonder then that college campuses are a “hotbed,” so to speak, of sexual activity? Put together that many twenty-somethings in the prime of their sexual virility and add the enormous strain of classes, jobs and financial responsibility, and it’s no surprise co-eds are seen as sex-crazed maniacs. After a hard day of studying, slaving and stressing, the mind tends to lend itself to fantasies of the provocative nature. Back slamming against the headboard, legs trembling with desire, it’s easy to forget the trivial problems of a typical Monday.
Add to that equation the overabundance of alcohol, psychedelics and stimulants available on campus, and sexual activity surmounts even the most pressing of term papers. On a campus the size of Madison it is all too easy for students looking for a “quick fix” to wander into the nearest frat party and retire for the evening with that evening’s winner for most consumption of alcohol in a twenty-minute period.
Scantily clad and semi-coherent, these students looking for a night of hot lovin’ are unlikely to debate the chances of seeing their partners-in-crime ever again. Imagine the shock, then, of gasping your way up Bascom on a blustery winter morning, just to run smack into that stallion from the past weekend’s pimp-and-ho party. Not pretty.
As large as our campus is, it is almost guaranteed that if you hook up with a random stranger at a party on the weekend, you will thereafter constantly run into them when you are looking your absolute worst. That day you wake up ten minutes before class with a nasty cold and vomit still on your breath from the night before is, without a doubt, the day you will encounter your former conquest in the cruel light of a Friday morning.
So, as this year kicks off another whirlwind of classes, parties and memories, I will try to keep the students of Madison with their heads in the right place: the gutter. Why waste our time with discussions of financial instability in the new millennium when we can get down to the real issue caressing the minds of students worldwide? sex, sex, SEX!
Until next week, when sailing through this weekend’s endless sea of parties and procreation, don?t forget to cloak the captain!
