[For many of us, sex and college go together like Uggs and snow - you can’t have one without the other. So, we brought in one of Berkeley’s finest sex columnists, Elizabeth, to start a dialogue about the topic (and act) that is very near and dear to our hearts. Every Thursday she will get your day goin’ with a little somethin’ somethin’ that’s on her mind.]

Hickeys are freakin’ weird. Seriously, think about it. A guy sucks on your neck until you have a bruise the size of a silver dollar, and somehow it’s “sexy” and “romantic”?

Under any other circumstances, a guy giving you a bruise is reason to press charges. What makes hickeys the exception? And why must he insist on giving them?

Granted, I’m not just blaming the guy – nine times out of ten, hickeys are complete accidents. Most people understand that nothing screams “I’M A SKANK!!” more than a giant red disfigurement on your neck. But what about the ones that are just a little toooo obvious? Two days ago, my friend Megan came home so hickey-ed that she may have very well been mauled by a small dog. What compelled Mr. Let’s Make Out Behind the Stadium to burden her with such a mark? Read More »