As a college senior, I’ve done my fair share of…er…personal research when it comes to hooking up. From that first makeout session in the corner of a very sweaty frat party to my most recent jaunts with some super fine grad students, I’ve dedicated myself to my work. And while my former naive self thought that college boys were like the punch they serve at frat parties (i.e. you never know what you’re gonna get but it’s gonna be good), what I’ve actually found is quite the contrary.

There are actually only 7 types of college hook ups.

And it doesn’t matter where you go to school or who you fraternize with, every girl on every campus will at one point (or many points, you saucy minx!) find herself in bed with one of theses:

1. The Bro:
This fellow is all brawn and no brains and secretly has watched more episodes of ‘The Hills’ than you have.  Not that I’m going to say that this is a problem, but the things he whispers in your ear the whole night make you wonder how many times he has Googled the transcripts from all of the porn movies he owns.  He gives you an awkward-fest drive home in his Tahoe while he listens to Trick Daddy and checks out his reflection in the rear view mirror to make sure his collar is still perfectly popped. You wonder where he keeps his lacrosse stick, because you want to hit yourself upside the head with it. Read More »

I hate my exes. Mostly because I’m not even sure I can call them my exes. You see, in the world of the eternally single, you rack up a lot of blurry relationships with people. We go on dates, but we’re not dating. We’re dating, but we’re not together. We’re together, but he’s not my boyfriend. We make out every Tuesday, Thursday, and third Friday of the month, but that’s it.

It’s bad enough when it’s occurring, but when the sordid, undefinable tryst ends…you don’t even know how to bitch about them! Man, that “guy who I used to sometimes make out with (and one time I think we went on a date, but it was only kind of a date because we didn’t refer to it as one)… really sucks.” God. It takes up more effort than the half assed relationship ever did.

The worst of it followed me out this week. Earlier in the summer, I had become interested in (obsessed with) a cute, smart, funny dude I had met while I was out. I gave him my number, and we ended up hanging out (making out) a few times. I started to get frustrated when I realized the extent of our hanging out was us making out, so I finally grew a metaphorical pair and told the horny jerk off. And of course with my luck, two days after I stand up for myself by acting like a crazy bitch, I run into him while I’m out with friends. And I thought Chicago was supposed to be a LARGE city…do I need to move to Hong Kong? Read More »