[Everyone’s got a morning after story and we wanna hear yours! Send it over to us and we’ll post it – anonymously, of course – right here!]

One night in the beginning of the semester, my roommates and I decided to drink tequila (read: my clothes would come off). A few hours in, I started to get the itch and texted the last boy I made out with. He was at a party and I was so desperate for some lovin’ that I walked there by myself. When I got there, he was making out with another girl.

But that didn’t stop me.

I hung around the party for awhile, drinking and mingling, until I finally decided this was bullsh*t and I was going home. As soon as I grew a backbone and walked out the door, he texted me to wait for him, and of course I did. He came out to meet me after 15 long minutes and we went back to his frat house.

Once in his room, things started getting hot and heavy, so I asked if he had a condom. He got up, walked over to a drawer to put one on, and then came back to continue…well, you know.

After a few minutes (seriously, like 3) we were done and I excused myself to use the bathroom. Had I had my wits about me I would have slipped my shoes on before walking into that cesspool, but I didn’t. And it was gross. Anyway, I finished my business and tip-toed back to his room. I got back into his queen-sized bed and tried to go to sleep.  As soon as my head hit the pillow, I was met with the oh-so-polite response of “um, yeah, you could either walk home or stay the night.” I was obviously staying, dumb ass. Hence the whole “getting into bed” thing. He continued:

“But if you stay over, you can’t sleep in my bed. I have personal space issues.”

Umm, EXCUSE ME!?!? This guy whose “personal space” was just inside my “personal space” was now telling to sleep on the futon? I stared at him, dumbfounded.

“I seriously have issues, you can ask my mom,” he said. Yeah, that’s what I’m gonna do. Call up the mother of my one-night-stand to confirm deep-seated psychological problems.

Instead, I threw the covers off, put my dress back on (sans panties, but I was not about to stick around any longer looking for them), and walked right out the door. All the way back to my place, alone, in the middle of the night. It was cold, it was shady, and my feet hurt like a mofo, but there was no way in hell I was spending a second on some jerky frat boy’s dirty futon. There was not enough tequila in the world to make me do that.

[Everyone's got a morning-after story and we wanna hear yours! Send it over to us and we'll post it - anonymously, of course - right here!]

I had a feeling my roommate situation was going to be interesting this year when the first thing she tells me after meeting me is, “I like to sleep naked.”

It all started on an innocent Sunday night in my routine of “Get up, survive, go back to bed.” I had a math test to cram into my brain for Monday afternoon, so I was in the dorm room jamming away on my calculator and re-learning weeks of notes when I heard the door open. My roommate sauntered into the room with a friend. A man-friend.  A man-friend who I’ve never met before.  A man-friend who I earlier heard her on the phone arguing with.

I knew she had bad taste in guys but, God damn! This guy was sprawled out on my futon (as in the futon I bought myself, but we share because that’s what roommates do) telling her he wanted the Gatorade he saw (MY Gatorade) and making fun of playfully teasing her. Nice guy, eh?  I was blatantly annoyed and semi-nauseated seeing them canoodling on the futon while it was plainly obvious I had an assload of work to do.

I decided the only way I could avoid hearing them make out so I could study for my exam keep my sanity was to leave the room and let them play doctor, or whatever it was they felt like doing (probably angry make-up sex).

I spent the next two and a half hours being sexiled in the downstairs dorm lobby studying for math and pining for a sex life of my own.  Key words being “two and a half hours.”  That’s what athletes probably call a marathon of bone-age.  But good for her, I guess; at least one of us was getting some action.

Finally, as I was nearly passing out on my notebook, I saw the guy step off the elevator. I returned to my room, peeled off my sweats and put on my sleeping sweats, and went to bed.

A week later I came back to my dorm with a man-friend of my own on a late night. Except for the difference being he is purely a FRIEND, meaning he slept on the futon and I slept in my bed.  The next morning he woke up, and while putting on his shirt he noticed something on the futon.

“Uh.” He turned to me. “Did you know you have a jizz stain on the futon?”
“No way,” I replied, walking over to him.
“Oh that’s jizz alright.  Trust me, I’m a guy.”

I followed his pointing finger and there it was: a dried white stain the size of a quarter right in the middle of my green futon.  MINE. I was furious. I was disgusted. Really, really disgusted. I mean, the girl had her own bed. WTF?

I wanted to fist pump my roommate in the face. Unfortunately, I only used my words. But that must have worked, because I haven’t seen that asshat since. And hopefully I never will because he’s too busy skeeting on SOMEONE ELSE’S futon.

Ah, the Futon. The good ol’ Flip and F**k. The  piece of furniture that is really not so cute or comfortable and takes up so much space in your already tight dormroom quarters. But it is convenient. Really convenient.

Bet you didn’t know this, but cute futons do exist! You can be an interior decorator extraordinaire and still have a friend (or two) crash after a particularly rough bar night. Here are some of the hottest futons on the market!

1. Ikea’s Armchair Futon

This one folds up to an armchair position, so it’s not going to take up too much space. And it can fold out into a perfectly comfortable bed for that one friend who lives off campus and likes to crash. Choose a color that fits your room, and passers-by won’t even realize that you have an ugly futon in the middle of the room.

2. Innovations Spider Frame Futon

This cute little number isn’t clunky like the wooden-framed futons that take up way more space than necessary. Plus, the cute little arm cushions offer a splash of color to brighten your room.

3. Target’s Mali Flex Futon Combo

I’m a fan of silver myself, so I dig the sleek, silver metal frame. Plus, the ends fold up to create arm rests on your futon so it takes away from the standard “futon-esque” look, and more closely resembles a chic little loveseat. It includes pillows and cushions, comes in a variety of color combinations (try pink sundae stripe if you want to embrace your playful girliness), and all this can be yours for under $200! What are you waiting for?

4. Target’s Uptown Upholstered Futon

What I love about this is that it looks like a real couch, so when you graduate, get a job, and move into a swanky apartment that’s fitting for the sophisticated career woman you’ve become, this piece can come with you. The back adjusts to two positions, and it turns into a full size bed. Perfect for a suite, apartment, or your first guest room.

5. Futon Creation’s Studio Futon Sofa Set by Handy Living

There’s something about this bright red futon that makes me with I had a nice enough living room to put it in. Whereas some of the above futons have thin, metal arms that make them more appealing, this sofa has none, and I think it works. The skirting at the bottom is nice too, especially when you have to clean your room at the last minute and do the ol’ sweep-everything-under-the-rug (er, futon) trick.

Suddenly, you and your roommate are juggling class schedules, study time, piles of laundry, the remote control, and trying to throw intimate time with a guy into the mix. It can be rough, but it can be done. You just need to remain respectful of your roommate, and follow some simple steps to sexile (and be sexiled) without spitefully poking pinholes in each other’s condoms.

1. Have “The Talk.”

Tell your roommate what’s going on. If you move in, and you’re already in a relationship, be honest. Tell her your boyfriend will be coming up one weekend a month, and ask if you can arrange some private time in the room. If you’re single but have a prospect, tell your roommate that you have a date on Friday and ask if she has plans, just in case.

Do not get separated at a party and call your roommate at 3 a.m. to tell her you’re already stumbling home with a boy in tow.

2. Likewise, Keep Score

If you make a habit of bringing home a random guy every weekend and kicking out your roomie, it won’t take long before she’s requesting a housing swap. It’s okay to have a one-night stand, but don’t make your roommate suffer for your own promiscuous needs. She’s more apt to be understanding if she knows she’s giving up the living space so you can spend some QT with your boyfriend, or so you can finally have some alone time with the guy you’ve been crushing on all semester. This goes with rule #1, but she’s probably going to get annoyed if you point out a frat boy at a party and slur, “Can I have the room for a couple of hours?”

Also, if you are sexiling her several times a week, but have never been sexiled yourself, you are being selfish. If this is the case, you may want to read the next rule…

3. Explore All Options

Does it always have to be in your room? Can you steal away to a different hotspot, e.g. his room/apartment/house, the football field, the backseat of his Volvo, whatever? Changing locations will not only make things better for you and the roomie, but it might also spice things up for you and your mate.

If it does have to be in your room, ask if there’s a place she can go so she’s not totally out in the cold. After all, you’re already following rule #1 and having “The Talk.” Maybe she’s cool with crashing on a friend’s futon. Maybe she has her own plans. While it’s not her responsibility to find alternative living arrangements (for the time being), there might be a comparable solution.

4. Try to be Convenient

Kicking her out on a Monday? Maybe not the most considerate thing. Asking her for a few hours when she’s elbows deep in midterms? Pretty selfish. Telling her you’ll be doing the no-pants dance the weekend her parents are coming up to visit? Seriously, get a hold of your libido.

One year, I was told that I had to vacate my room for the duration of Valentine’s Day weekend. That may have seemed reasonable to my roommate and her boyfriend, but I was single and had some single girlfriends coming up to get rip-roaring sloshed. So, my girls and I were homeless while my roommate and her boyfriend had a “romantic” weekend of bunk bed boning. That really irked me. If he was a real Romeo, couldn’t he have sprung for a hotel room? But I digress.

5. Mind the Noise Level

If you have a suite with a common area that is separate from your bedroom and you’ve banished your roommate to the couch for a few hours, make sure she can’t hear you. She knows what’s going in there, but she doesn’t need an audio reminder while she’s being kind enough to catch up on “A Shot of Love” reruns until you’re spent.

6. Don’t Invade ANY Personal Bubbles

This includes the two biggest no-no’s of hooking up in a shared space:

NEVER hook up while she’s in the room and NEVER, EVER do it in her bed. This should go without saying, but come on, we all do stupid stuff when we’re drunk, and throwing hormones into a sh*tshow can equal some VERY bad decisions. It’s also a good idea to shy away from fooling around in shared spaces (read: no BJ’s on the common room sofa). If she catches wind of how you’ve left your scarlet letter on the desk she writes her papers on, she will resent you long after you’ve both moved out and moved on.

When in doubt, use your best judgment and remember what your teachers told you in kindergarten: treat others the way you would want to be treated.

Just remember: a quickie only lasts a few minutes, but you have to live with your roommate 24/7.

In college, tradition is everything and there is no tradition more important, more long-lasting and more talked about than hooking up with the college freshman.

I can’t tell you how many times I watched my friends drool over the freshman girls walking in and out of the dorms. They plotted, they schemed and they visited frat parties in an effort to woo the ladies girls back to their filthy apartments.

But, why?!

What is it about this group of girls that is so appealing? And why, with so many awesome ladies already roaming around campus, do guys feel the need to “hit that sh*t”?

Let’s find out:

He Said:

It’s the beginning of the new school year, and you know what that means—hot freshman tail to chase! At least that’s what us upperclassmen guys think of when we start the new semester.

With droves of 18-year-old hotties filling in the ranks, hooking up with as many of them as possible becomes a matter of intense interest for returning dudes. But why freshmen?

First, because they’re new to the scene, they don’t know if you’re a loser or not. They’ve just come from who knows where, fresh into the world of “adulthood” (if you count being in college as adulthood), and you can tell them pretty much anything (within reason) without them knowing any better.

Second, because chicks often prefer to date older dudes, your position as an upperclassman automatically gives you the illusion of being wiser–or at least more experienced, which translates into attractiveness. You already know where to find your classes, where the best bars are in town, which parties are must-go-to’s, etc… so taking a freshman chick under your wing is as simple as shotgunning a beer. Or at least it’s easier than trying to convince someone who already knows you that you’re worth their while.

Lastly, it’s a matter of male pride. Despite what the reality is, freshmen seem strangely young an innocent when they first arrive, untainted by the harsh realities of the “real world”–or at least the party scene. So all guys want to scoop up the newly arrived babes before all their dirty, rotten classmates get to them first and ruin all the fun. Remember, it’s only a matter of time before these nubile newbies have a reputation too.

She Said:

When I was a freshman I believed anything and everything people told me and I would do anything to get into the coolest frat party in town (which were never really that cool anyway). Knowing that, I can totally see why guys are always flocking to the freshmen. It is easy prey.

But that doesn’t negate the fact that it is totally scummy and disgusting. How guys can sit on their raunchy futons and celebrate the naivety of the freshman (and their desire to bone one) and take pride in it is beyond me. Also, how they can even touch the futon blows my mind.

Think about it: the only difference between a freshman and anyone else on campus is the fact that they are new, “pure,” and young. When a guy goes after one, then, he is not doing it because he thinks she is cute or smart or wonderful; he thinks she is young, naïve and will take off her pants without a problem.Very mature, boys.

It is not that I am opposed to hooking up with a freshman – some of them are pretty effing hot and I always thought it would be fun to head back to the dorms for a little twin-extra-long action (you know, for old times’ sake) – but I am against hooking up with a freshman simply because they are one. Well, that the fact that I prefer older men…who know what they are doing below the belt.

Freshmen are nothing more to me than the new kids on campus who are walking around in packs, puking from their inability to handle their alcohol and stealing all the older guys on campus.

In that same frame of mind, I’ve been looking at my so-called grown-up friends to see how their lives are different from my own, searching for things that would tell me when I’ve become one of them, or if maybe -gasp- I’m already there. Here is what I came up with.

5 Signs that you are now entering Adultsville:

1. Bills. Gone are the days of blissful ignorance as to how the lights stayed on at home or the hot water kept running. Now those infuriating little statements just keep slipping through the mail slot. Phone bill, gas bill, waterworks, eating away at your paycheck- your new pair of shoes! It was a lot more fun when you had an allowance.

2. Your parents are asking you to drive them places. You thought it was your ticket to freedom when you got your license, huh? Wink, wink. Mom and Dad were just waiting for the day when they wouldn’t have to take you anywhere and you could start chauffeuring them around. Now it’s, “Honey, can you take me to the doctor’s on Monday?” and, “Oh, could you stop by the grocery store after work and pick some things up for me?” Don’t forget doing someone else’s errands: “Your sister’s done with soccer practice at 6.” Some kind of freedom.

3. All-weekend benders are history. As are weekday parties. The day has finally come when you realize that Tuesday and Wednesday nights just have to be for sleeping. And that in your older and wiser state, hangovers now take two days of recovery instead of the normal one-day junk food-eating, sweatpants-wearing, movie-watching spree that used to be all you required. Oh where did our beer (or Smirnoff Ice) chugging days go?

4. Better sex. This may be one of the few perks of being an adult. Maybe your libido isn’t what it was when you were 19 (although for some of us, it’s even better ) but you know more about your body now. You know what you want, and you aren’t afraid to say it. Who wouldn’t be satisfied with that?

5. And last, but by all means worth the most: You are making the choices now. The big Life-Changing Decisions. With no Mommy or Daddy to dust you off and tell you “I told you so” when it doesn’t work out. The consequences for your actions fall squarely on your own shoulders. Most of the time, we’d like to think that we have enough experience and common sense by this point to make reasonably good judgments. Most of the time, we completely miss the mark.

The sign of your newly earned adulthood is your next move- to get up and keep forging ahead, even if you have to wade in the muck of your mistakes. Only little kids get to go back to bed and let someone else sort it out.

Being an adult is not all pink and posies. And you still have the option of staying a kid forever- the path that some people, much to the chagrin of the rest of us, decide to follow. (Cough, Cough, dear, sweet “significant others” going out with their buddies on poker night when their mothers are coming the next day and the house is still a mess.)

On the other hand, there’s a real liberty and sense of accomplishment that comes from knowing you are the one who gets to reap the benefits of all your responsibility and hard work.

…Hmm, yeah. Not feeling that just yet. I guess I’m not quite there. I’ll see ya on the other side. Until then, I’ll be over here on my futon, nursing my hangover with a beer.