#Winning, fellas.

Sure, it’s common for us college students to talk about our hookups, whether it’s the best you’ve ever had or some really embarrassing story. I share things with my girlfriends, and dudes discuss it all the time. Heck, we used to have Morning After posts specifically for that purpose, but those are full stories that aren’t degrading and gross. However, there’s a difference between sharing within your circle of friends and sharing it all over the internet via Texts From Last Night format.

Let me introduce you to the sheer brilliance of BootyDrop.com, founded “to develop a culture where users can have fun with the site, while still respecting people in the stories and other Booty Droppers.” I’m sorry, but you can’t seriously expect users on this site to respect each other or those in the stories when the whole purpose is to basically degrade and embarrass said people in said stories. When explaining what a Booty Drop is, founders Matthew Weaver and Kevin Lance state, “Let’s be honest. Attending college was never about the education anyway. It’s about hooking up. You tell your friends the next day, but why stop there? Instead tell the world, anonymously.” Are you kidding me?! I’d love to have that conversation with my parents… “Hey Mom and Dad, I know you’ve been spending an ungodly amount of money on my college education, but I hope you know it’s really about me hooking up.” College is definitely about education, and those who don’t think so are probably the ones taking the Van Wilder route and failing their classes.

The site has ratings like “Bootylicious” and “Booty Fails,” and I’m pretty sure Beyonce won’t be too happy to see her coined phrase used for this purpose. There’s also a hierarchy of rankings depending on how much you post: Booty Amateur, Booty Dropper, Booty Pro and Booty Master. Yeah, because I really want to hook up with a guy who is known as a Booty Master on a sleazy website. Much like TFLN and FML, half of these are nearly guaranteed to be fake. It’s kind of like a lot of the guys I go to school with who have really huge trucks to overcompensate for lacking in other areas. If you have to post on this site every time you hook up with someone, then you’re doing something wrong.

How about you stick to the old “don’t kiss and tell” mantra and keep your sex life private? You may earn some actual respect instead of whatever false sense of pride you’re getting from this POS.

So there’s been a lot of talk here on CollegeCandy lately about slut shaming, casual sex, and what exactly defines a girl as “whorey.” Instead of clearing all of that up for you with this post, I’m probably just going to create another grey area, but hey, that’s what life is all about, isn’t it?

Right. Okay.

So I want to talk to you ladies about one night stands. Casual sex. Hookups. Booty calls. Those guys you sleep with once and probably never see again. The reason I want to talk to you girls about this is because a lot of you are probably cringing right now, recalling your last one night stand, the last time you slept with a guy and then walked home in last night’s clothes, the last time you had casual sex and then felt guilty about it. In fact you’re probably feeling guilty all over again right now. And I want to tell you to stop. Stop cringing. Stop feeling guilty. Stop second guessing and over thinking and feeling bad about yourself. Because you know what? Casual sex is okay. And you know what makes it okay? The fact that you wanted to have casual sex.

Because when it comes down to it no one can set your boundaries for you but yourself. You define what is right and wrong for you, good and bad for you. You’re in control. And if you’re okay with it then just be okay with it. Don’t try to justify your actions or your reasons to anyone but yourself. If you’re okay with the way you live your life, then, really, that’s all that matters.

Not being all that big on the one night stand myself, it took me a while to figure out how I wanted to approach this post. And of course my musings (just like everything else in life) brought me back to Carrie Bradshaw and Co. The Sex and the City girls. If anyone could make you feel less guilty about doing what feels right in the moment and going after what you want it would be these ladies.

I thought back to the episode where Carrie was featured in a photo shoot entitled Single and Fabulous. But at the end of that title there stood a question mark (Single and Fabulous?) rather than an exclamation point (Single and Fabulous!) and all of a sudden Carrie had herself questioning whether or not she believed there should be a question mark or an exclamation point at the end of that sentence. So, Carrie goes out and has a few drinks and she meets a guy. A guy she flirts with and kisses and almost takes home. She doesn’t. Because she realizes that if she slept with him she wouldn’t be sleeping with him because she wanted to but because she felt like she needed to prove something to herself, that she really was single and fabulous.

So Carrie goes home alone that night, but she doesn’t always, not when she doesn’t want to. And for Carrie that’s why casual sex is okay, that’s why she doesn’t feel guilty. She’s had more than her fair share of one night stands, and she’s okay with that because when she brings a guy home she does it because she wants to. She doesn’t feel guilty about the casual sex she has because she is in charge of her choices, she makes her decision. She defines her own boundaries and does what’s right for her. (That being said even if you’re not feeling guilty after a one night stand, but you’re still feeling unhappy you might need to reconsider the reasons why you’re gravitating towards casual sex. ) You shouldn’t feel guilty about indulging in a one night stand. Why?

Because you had fun. Because you weren’t expecting it to be anything more or anything less. Because casual sex is okay. Because you define your boundaries and no one else. Because you enjoyed it. Because you wanted it.

So if that’s what you want, go out there and get it. Do what you want to do.
Just do it safely.

But apparently the University of Chicago can. The site first launched a few weeks ago, under the name UChicagoHookups.com, “a place where fun comes to thrive.” But since then, the site has gained more media attention and has been renamed EduHookups.com, allowing students from Northwestern University, Columbia College Chicago, and soon Brown University, to register under a .edu email address, and search for hookups.

More than 300 people have registered for the site and over 1,300 private messages have been sent, but I have to ask, is this really necessary? I mean it’s college. Aren’t we always complaining that there’s nothing but casual hookups in college? Aren’t we saying that it’s difficult to find anything more than that? If that’s the case why do we need a website geared toward this? Isn’t this what bars and house parties are for? Will those become irrelevant now, too, with students no longer even bothering with the fun and the flirting and the cheesy pickup lines? Now we’ll just send people private messages and meet them in the appropriate dorm room?

I’m all about new media, but this seems like a bit much even for me. Is it too much to ask for a good old fashioned house party hookup?

It’s no secret that alcohol changes people. After a night of drinking, we’re often surprised by what we may or may not have done during a night of debauchery. Oftentimes we end up with great stories, but there are also those nights that leave us wondering how the hell we ended up on a stranger’s couch with only one shoe, a purse full of ping pong balls, and 17 new phone numbers in our phone (all listed under names like, “bathroom dude,” “cigarette guy,” and “hgjb52″) .

The truth is, alcohol lowers our inhibitions…and standards…for everything.  We do things when we’re drinking that we’d never, ever, in a million years consider when we’re sober (like mixing ranch dressing and brownies).

Here are five of the most common things that are oddly tolerable – and even preferred – when the booze is flowing through our systems:

The beer pong ball – Has anyone actually realized how unsanitary this thing is? Although no one EVER thinks about it when they’re playing, it’s pretty nasty. It’s falling on the floor (oftentimes a disgusting floor that hasn’t seen a mop since the between-tenants-landlord-cleaning) and god knows where else, but because you’re too drunk to notice how vile this is, you don’t care. Somehow it’s all okay because it’s been dipped into a cup of water. The same cup of water that was put there 2 hours before and  has been dipped into hundreds of times by people you may not even know (but may make out with later…)

Frat house bathrooms – As far as sh*tholes (literally) go, these may be the worst. I have been in ones that not only don’t have toilet paper (forcing me to use a crumpled up piece of notebook paper… I don’t wanna talk about it), but also contain a bathtub filled with things one would rather not think about, a sink that doesn’t work, and a door that doesn’t even fully close.  But because your drunk self needs to pee something awful, you will brave the bathroom anyway. And you might even sit, being that squatting takes concentration that your drunk ass can’t muster up. When nature calls, you answer. Even if the response is possibly hazardous to your health.

Creepy people hitting on you – Who hasn’t had this happen? Inevitably, everyone is much more confident when they’re drunk, and they throw caution to the wind. Sadly, this not only applies to attractive and normal individuals but also unfortunate looking and strange people, too. Yet, somehow, you don’t mind. In fact, due to your desire to swindle a free drink or those thick-ass beer goggles you’re wearing, you kinda like it. And may even leave with it…er…him.

Nudity - As a rule, most of us do not feel comfortable when sober to take off our clothes in front of complete strangers. Yet for some odd reason when we’re drunk, it seems acceptable. No, mandatory. Like, everyone just HAS to see my nipples. Need I go on?

Talking about taboo and inappropriate subjects – This is yet another side effect of increased confidence due to alcohol consumption. One begins to think that because they are drunk now would be an excellent time to talk about everything (“Wait, you poop twice a day? I poop twice a week!”) and everyone (“How do you not want to see your dad naked? He’s hot!”). Your sex life? Everyone should know! That time you vomited in your roommate’s closet and played dumb the next morning? Confession time! Your opinions about certain people that may or may not be in the vicinity? Who cares?!

BONUS: Becoming BFFs with that chick you’ve hated for years - Nothing brings out the love like a bottle of booze. She may have stabbed you in the back and made your life hell (or puked in your closet and played dumb the next morning), but now you’re drunk and hugging and you love her so much you just HAVE to do brunch next Sunday.  WTF?

Got any others?

[This story was originally posted by Amanda - Reed.]

Likey? Don’t worry, there are plenty more faves where this came from.

It’s no secret that alcohol changes people. After a night of drinking, we’re often surprised by what we may or may not have done during a night of debauchery. Oftentimes we end up with great stories, but there are also those nights that leave us wondering how the hell we ended up on a stranger’s couch with only one shoe, a purse full of ping pong balls, and 17 new phone numbers in our phone (all listed under names like, “bathroom dude,” “cigarette guy,” and “hgjb52″) .

The truth is, alcohol lowers our inhibitions…and standards…for everything.  We do things when we’re drinking that we’d never, ever, in a million years consider when we’re sober (like mixing ranch dressing and brownies).

Here are five of the most common things that are oddly tolerable – and even preferred – when the booze is flowing through our systems:

The beer pong ball – Has anyone actually realized how unsanitary this thing is? Although no one EVER thinks about it when they’re playing, it’s pretty nasty. It’s falling on the floor (oftentimes a disgusting floor that hasn’t seen a mop since the between-tenants-landlord-cleaning) and god knows where else, but because you’re too drunk to notice how vile this is, you don’t care. Somehow it’s all okay because it’s been dipped into a cup of water. The same cup of water that was put there 2 hours before and  has been dipped into hundreds of times by people you may not even know (but may make out with later…)

Frat house bathrooms – As far as sh*tholes (literally) go, these may be the worst. I have been in ones that not only don’t have toilet paper (forcing me to use a crumpled up piece of notebook paper… I don’t wanna talk about it), but also contain a bathtub filled with things one would rather not think about, a sink that doesn’t work, and a door that doesn’t even fully close.  But because your drunk self needs to pee something awful, you will brave the bathroom anyway. And you might even sit, being that squatting takes concentration that your drunk ass can’t muster up. When nature calls, you answer. Even if the response is possibly hazardous to your health.

Creepy people hitting on you – Who hasn’t had this happen? Inevitably, everyone is much more confident when they’re drunk, and they throw caution to the wind. Sadly, this not only applies to attractive and normal individuals but also unfortunate looking and strange people too. Yet, somehow, you don’t mind. In fact, due to your desire to swindle a free drink or those thick-ass beer goggles you’re wearing, you kinda like it. And may even leave with it…er…him.

Nudity - As a rule, most of us do not feel comfortable when sober to take off our clothes in front of complete strangers. Yet for some odd reason when we’re drunk, it seems acceptable. No, mandatory. Is there any more explanation needed?

Talking about taboo and inappropriate subjects – This is yet another side effect of increased confidence due to alcohol consumption. One begins to think that because they are drunk now would be an excellent time to talk about everything and everyone. Your sex life? Everyone should know! That time you vomited in your roommate’s closet and played dumb the next morning? Confession time! Your opinions about certain people that may or may not be in the vicinity? Who cares?!

BONUS: Becoming BFFs with that chick you’ve hated for years - Nothing brings out the love like a bottle of booze. She may have stabbed you in the back and made your life hell, but now you’re drunk and hugging and you love her so much you just HAVE to do brunch next Sunday.  WTF?

Got any others?

Sure, it may be full of exclusive tips that you are dying to learn and try out on your man, but can you really muster the moxie to pay for it along with a bottle of water and box of pens?

“What if the cashier thinks I have an oral-fixation that I need to feed in between classes by learning how to properly fellate a fellow?” The embarrassment would be akin to buying the economy-size box of tampons at the grocery store while still in your PMS PJs.

But, now I wonder: what other hidden treasures can I find in the bookstore that I’m too scared to plunk down the cash for in public?

Unhooked: How Young Women Pursue Sex, Delay Love, and Lose at Both
What it’s about: So, do you think that by hooking up you’re being sexually empowered and going after what you want for a change? Not so, says Laura Sessions Stepp. She “follows three groups of young women over the course of an academic year to discover what hooking up is all about. She attends class with them, parties with them, and listens to them talk about their sexual encounters – coming away with some enlightening and disturbing insights into sexuality.”

What it tells the cashier: I am sorta slutty and I want to know the repercussions.

Confessions of an Heiress: A Tongue in Chic Peek Behind the Pose and That Extra Half an Inch: Hair, Heels and Everything in Between
What They’re About: This is a two-fer because either of these books would make me feel like a chihuahua carrying, air-headed attention whore… with really cute shoes. However, Paris Hilton’s Confessions of an Heiress: A Tongue in Chic Peek Behind the Pose lures me in with it’s sparkly cover, clever title pun and full-page, colored pictures. Unfortunately, much like the author herself, this book is really pretty on the outside, but lacks any substance on the inside. A similar book, That Extra Half an Inch: Hair, Heels and Everything in Between, is Mrs. David Beckham’s attempt at literature. It has tips on how to wear your LBD, find awesome bargains and gives you space to make notes about your favorite fashion tricks. It’s a pretty hefty book for the price and I’d wager the spine is thicker than Vickie’s waist.

What it tells the cashier: I’m a moron with a really great closet.

Die Happy: 499 Thing’s Every Guy’s Gotta Do While He Still Can
What it’s about: A what-to-do guide written for men, by men, that gives great insight into what these crazy creatures really want in life. While my Bucket List contains dreams of visting Paris, getting a Masters degree and celebrating New Years in Times Square, this book reveals that guys’ dreams top out at swimming with sharks, taking a job as a cab driver and playing drunk golf. A funny read and peek inside the male mind, this book makes me feel a little like a dirty voyeur…and I kinda like it.

What it tells the cashier: I’m a dirty voyeur… and also slighty weird for wanting to delve this deeply into the male mind.

Filthy Shakespeare: Shakespeare’s Most Outrageous Sexual Puns
What it’s about: Desperate to develop an interest in Shakespeare so you aren’t bored to death during that section in Lit?  This is a book for the easily distracted student whose dirty mind reads too deep into a silly coincidence. Who knew that Shakespeare wanted the word “all” to be pronounced like “hole” and the word “wit” was meant to represent the vajay. Naughty, Willy!

What it tells the cashier: I think the word Willy is funny. Tee hee.

I Lick My Cheese
What it’s about: If you live with filthy, annoying roommates, then this book is right up your alley! It may just be a picture book, but its compilation of photos of notes left by roomies that will have you laughing in the aisles. Sure, it’s not a book of merit where you’re going to learn anything useful or look like a studious co-ed, but who doesn’t love reading notes about poop in an unflushed toilet?

What it tells the cashier: My mom gave me money to buy books and I’m buying a picture book. About poop.

So maybe these books will make you blush when you decide to have the cashier ring them up, but they may also provide hours of entertainment. If your brain is tired of slogging through chapters on the Great Depression, maybe its time for a little hilarity.

And you can always order them online, or just try to do what I do: grab one of these books, pull your hoodie down over your eyes, throw cash at the counter and run away screaming.

Hey, don’t judge me!

As embarrassing as this is, I must admit, that during my four years in college I, like most college students, had my fair share of random hookups.

Of course, as this was college, these hookups were mostly–well actually–completely fueled by extreme levels of intoxication and in some cases by peer pressure, with my girls telling me, “Oh you should totally hookup with him, he’s so hot.”

It’s not that I didn’t date in college, I did. It was just that the guys who wanted to date me were well, boring. I went out on fancy dates with guys, many of whom I eventually became good pals with, that were not guys I could see myself with long term (and for me, at the time, long term meant at least three months) and more importantly, were not guys I could see myself having sex with long term.

Besides, the allure of a hookup was too much for me to resist. I loved how I could go out with friends, have a few (more like 5) drinks and meet some cutie. I loved how one minute I could be downing cranberry vodkas with my friends in some packed bar singing “Don’t Stop Believing” and the next I could be locking lips on my couch with a hottie who I eyed from across the room. It was just, in one word, thrilling.

Fast forward to life post graduation, I could have sworn that my days of hooking up were good and over. Well, until New Year’s Eve happened. Too much champagne plus a steamy New Year’s Eve kiss (ok, makeout session) with my friend’s boyfriend’s friend equaled my first post-collegiate walk of shame. As it was New Year’s Day, talk about not the best way to start 2008, I started thinking about resolutions and how mine should be to actually find a guy to date.

As luck should have it, a few weeks earlier, I met a nice, tall, dark and handsome hottie who is also a recent college grad, lives a few blocks from me (this is rare in New York, especially in Manhattan) and is (rarer of all) a good dancer.

Prior to the New Year we’d gone on our first date, to a cute little café near us and had brunch. The conversation flowed well and all in all, it was a successful first meeting. On New Year’s Eve, he called and we agreed to meet up for coffee the next day, as in New Year’s Day AKA the day of my first post-collegiate walk of shame.

Besides for the fact that we were both obviously really hung over, our coffee date seemed to go just as well as our first date, until he mentioned he recently got out of a long-term relationship. He didn’t dwell on this fact or say anything bad about his ex, but it still kind of unnerved me. Yet, at that moment, the thought of dating him, even if he did just get out of something semi-serious, was a whole lot more appealing than ever repeating the drunken hookup scenario from the night before and the resulting still-super-drunk walk of shame from earlier that morning.

We continued seeing each other and everything seemed to be progressing smoothly. Sure, every so often he would mention the ex, but he never went overboard (no ex bashing or sharing of intimate details of their relationship) and it was never anything I couldn’t handle.

In fact, everything seemed to be progressing so nicely that before I knew it we were having sex for the first time.

It was then that he turned into complete emotional mush. After doing the deed, he started talking about how it was the first time he’s had sex since the break-up, how us having sex really confirms that he’s single and how she was the one who cheated on him. This was definitely not what I wanted to here post-orgasm.

I snuggled up to him to tried and get him to shut up and bask in the post-sex haze, but within 15 minutes he got up, said he had a lot on his mind and left.

Well, to be fair he didn’t just up and leave, or as Liz Phair put it, “F&*ck and Run.” We talked and he said he was interested in a relationship, I told him he should move things forward when he’s ready and he kissed me, promised to call and then left.

He seemed really genuine about the whole thing and he has been in touch since then, but I can’t help thinking how I’d almost rather go back to the random hookups. The whole incident, has in a way, really made me miss having uncomplicated sex with guys who never have diarrhea of the mouth about another girl and at least stay with you all night, even if it is just to insure they’ll have another shot at hooking up with you again.

Though most of all, strangely enough, our sexual debacle has really made miss my carefree college days of downing one too many cranberry vodkas with my girls.

Now, I’m sure many things are running through your head right now as possible justifications for this statistic. I think we can all atest to the fact that most college hookups don’t exactly rock your world for a variety of reasons, (alcohol involved, inexperience, someone you don’t know extremely well, yada yada) so when you put it in perspective, it seems to make sense.

Apparently the survey was done by a professor at Stanford University. It questioned 4,000 students about their most recent hook-ups, which ranged from kissing to manual sex to oral sex to intercourse. The results showed that 44 percent of men had reached orgasm compared to 19 percent of women. More specifically, 70 percent of men climaxed during intercourse without oral sex beforehand, but only half the amount of females could do the same.

Why might this be? The article gave a number of suggestions such as women tend to not speak up or are scared to talk about what they desire, women don’t masturbate as much as men (that opens a whole separate can of worms), and that women are more worried about their partner’s satisfaction than their own.

Moral of the story: Although this was a small and selective survey, it brings up interesting points about the nature of most college girls’ sex lives. Don’t be scared to speak your mind and fight for what you want, even if that translates to the bedroom. Let’s reverse this finding.

We began talking daily. I would be flirty, he would be dirty. Between the naughty remarks, this kid was witty and charming, and I found myself intrigued. Although I was a little curious why such an attractive man had to use the internet to find a lady, I attributed it all to the fact that it was now the 21st century and internet “dating” had become all the rage.

We took things slowly; talked online, talked on the phone, discussed grabbing drinks. Eventually, three or four days after our initial Friendstering (“slow” is a relative term in this high-tech world), we met, he fed me countless cocktails and we ended up back at his place making out on the couch.

Being the respectable lady that I am, I didn’t let it go very far. He didn’t like that very much, but I didn’t care; I may have found a man on the internet but I still had standards, damnit.

I left that night with a good feeling. No, it was not the post-hookup “glow” but rather a feeling that maybe this whole internet dating thing could work. That feeling went away quickly the following evening when I invited said- boy to join me at the bar. Unfortunately, he already had plans and wouldn’t be able to make it. He told me to call him later in the evening, and he would see if he could stop by.

As 2 a.m. rolled around and the bars closed, I called my man. I was clearly intoxicated (made obvious by a few naughty comments I offered up) and said I really wanted to “see” him. After explaining all this he responded, “I am at home. Don’t come over unless you are on the pill.” I laughed a little, hoping he was joking.

“I am serious,” he continued. “There is no point in coming over if you don’t bring a condom.”

EXCUSE ME? I hung up the phone, shocked. My friends couldn’t believe he said that. Either could the cab driver who contributed this little ditty: “He shouldn’t say those things to you. He should just put his face down there between your legs and enjoy it!” Seriously…Ann Arbor cabbies are very opinionated.

Anyways, I couldn’t believe that he had actually said that! Even more, I couldn’t believe that I had actually thought our four-day courtship was leading anywhere. I made the cab driver swing me by Jimmy Johns for a late night pick me up where I drunkenly told the whole story to the dude behind the counter and vowed never to have a Friendster With Benefits again.