Question for the Tuffster?! Email her at tuffyluv@collegecandy.com to be featured in her column every Tuesday! Ask anything, get a Tuffisized answer.

Dear Tuffy Luv,

I’m just curious – what are some sex myths that aren’t true? I keep hearing stuff (like that you can you have sex under water with out a condom and you can’t get pregnant) that I don’t know if it’s true.

Thnx!

Curious

Dear Curious,

Thanks for your question–Tuffy luvs this shiz. Sex myths? Hysterical. But also dangerous. Okay, here’s a list of ones that are just that: myths. You can’t get pregnant from having sex under water. Uh, you can so get preggers from sex under water. You can also get STDs. Water don’t wash away sperm. Nice try though. Condoms, pleez.

You can’t get pregnant on your period. EHHH! Try again. You can totally be fertile while you’re menstruating.

Two condoms are better than one. Nope. Actually, using two condoms together make it more likely that they’ll rub against each other and break, leaving you wide open for pregnancy and STDs. Stick with the standard usage: one condom to a romp.

If you love someone, the sex will be great. Oh, life is never that simple. Sex doesn’t always mean love, and love doesn’t always mean good sex. It all needs honest communication and compatibility.

Oysters are an aphrodisiac. Just no.

If he pulls out, I can’t get pregnant. You know that little bit of fluid that comes out when he starts to get excited (but wayyyy before he comes)? That’s sperm, baby. It’s just less of it. It can still knock you up.

Mountain Dew prevents pregnancy by lowering sperm count because it contains the dye Yellow No. 5. Wow, this is an oldie. So, first of all, Yellow No. 5 doesn’t actually lower sperm count. But even if it did, lowering does not equal eliminating. Use condoms and don’t rely on random chemicals from soda to keep you babyless.

If I start taking birth control pills today, I can safely have sex tomorrow. Wrong. It takes a month for that sh*t to kick in. Listen to your doctor and don’t be stupid.

Semen has a low carb count. Nice try, guys. It’s actually mostly fructose and therefore quite high carb, fyi.

Well, there you go. Was it as good for you as it was for me?

Hearts & Skulls,

Tuffy Luv

The third thing hangovers do?  Propel us toward every unhealthy food that has ever been invented.

I know what you must be thinking. EVERYONE has their weaknesses. But mine’s a little out of control. Sure, some people cross the street for Starbucks instead of Dunkin’ Donuts. Sure, some people can’t make it through a bad day without a pint of the gooiest, most-fattening Ben and Jerry’s flavor (uh, did you know our favorite boys now make Cake Batter? Yeah, I know. Look out waist-line, plus-size ahoy).

But do they base their entire college existences around their indulgences? I think not.

Freshman year of college was a hard year. Hard in the sense that I didn’t make many friends, the friends I did make liked pot better, and my roommates’ parents petitioned the Dean of Students to have me expelled for being a lesbian (it created a hostile environment for their innocent little girls, who were later expelled themselves for plagiarizing their final ethics papers). I seriously considered transferring, preferably to a college with lots of ivy on the walls, and maybe a neat statue or two.

Why didn’t I transfer? Because it’s the little things in life that matter, and my school, well, my school was a Pepsi school. Not a Coke school like most of the others. A Pepsi school, meaning Mountain Dew in the vending machines, in the convenience store, in the dining hall and at every extracurricular activity. When my roommates kept me up to 4:30am every night, drunk-handcuffing their boyfriends to their beds, it was okay—I had a liter of Mountain Dew to get me through the night, or at least until my 8:30am Expository Writing class. Yeah, I got fat, but I was happy, at least as happy as any lonely, misunderstood Mountain Dew addict could be. And the cross-dressing, Mariah-loving boy across the hall? Yeah, he did the Dew too.

Years later, my obsession has dwindled a bit. My withdrawal is no longer physical, just emotional. I’ve gotten a little more health conscious in my old age, and I realize that Mountain Dew will probably kill me before I’m thirty. But I do miss the reckless abandonment of those late-night binges, the sugary-sweetness of that neon drug dripping down my throat, tickling my taste buds, partying in my stomach, and probably my liver and other vital organs.

But I still choose the Pepsi movie theater over the Coke movie theater, even if it’s further away and more expensive. I wander hallways for vending machines with that beautiful, heavenly green and orangey-red button. Some days, I even think I’d trade my semi-girlfriend for an ice-cold can.

Yeah, this is the epitome of civilization, the greatest success of mankind. And I still have half a bottle left.