Yeah, I’ll admit it. Relative to the other women in my circle of college friends, I’m who people would call “the slutty one” because I’ve been with the most number of men. I don’t mind making out with a random stranger for fun and I’ll stay the night at his place if I’m looking for a change of atmosphere. Yes, I’m a slut. What’s wrong with that?!

I used to attach a negative connotation to the word “slut” when I first came to college. I looked down on girls who were dressing provocatively every night and sleeping with guys they barely knew. I thought they were shallow and empty and searching for fulfillment in boys who suddenly kinda thought they were attractive. I was never friends with them. I criticized them. And I felt really sorry for them from afar.

But as the semesters flew by, I learned a lot about myself. I realized that I like making out. And that I like having sex. I happen to like dresses with deep necklines and short hemlines and I happen to like how I look in said dresses. I think you’ll agree that there’s nothing wrong with any of these things, and there’s nothing wrong with putting all of these things together and liking that combination.

Maybe the fact that I take it a step further is what makes people uncomfortable. If I’m out at a bar and I suddenly have the desire to make out with someone, I’ll do it. If I’m sexually frustrated and want to fulfill that urge later on in the evening, I won’t have any shame when walking back to my room the next morning. Sure, these activities are amazing when in a relationship with someone I’m really in love with, but if I’m not in love with anyone at the moment, does that mean I have to forgo these activities? Do I have to wait months before I get to know some guy and “fall” for him in order to sleep with him? What if he’s absolutely awful in bed? I know that doesn’t matter as much when actually in love with the person, but I’m not looking for love right now. I’m single. And I have needs. I guess some people consider my situation to be “slutty.”

Slutty activity is sometimes a coping mechanism for the insecure — those who look to men for attention and validation that they are, in fact, awesome. And to be honest, that strategy is really sad. It never actually fulfills her and only leaves her incredibly codependent and even more lost than before she decided to hook up with the guy. But I’m going to introduce you to another theory of the slut-minded. I’m not insecure, I’d actually say I’m confident. I’m confident in my identity and my sexuality and my emotional capacity and my ability to engage in sexual activity safely. And every now and then, I just want to enjoy all of it with another person who feels the same way about themselves. I’m not looking to him for validation, and I’m not objectifying him either. To me, confidence is attractive, not only when found in others, but also in myself. I see it like he’s a new friend who is doing me a few favors, that’s all.

I understand why people have problems with my behavior, whether rooted in a specific religion or a conservative upbringing or otherwise. Some people might argue that I’m making all women look bad. By reserving the right to get mine, I’m making you look bad? How is that possible?! I’m making you look GOOD! I’m pushing women forward, into the future! I’m proud of my sexual freedoms and our ability to purchase birth control, I’m fighting everyone’s opinions for the right to good sex. Why should only men enjoy these things? Why do we as women always have to tear each other down all the time?! It’s funny, I don’t hear you criticizing anyone’s life choices when you’re asking your slutty friend for makeout tips and suggestions for the best sex positions. If anything, we sluts are going out and experimenting for all of you. And all of your future partners. And all of our future partners because, let’s face it, our husbands are going to be very happy men!

Okay, okay. All jokes aside, I think it’s time we redefine what it means to be a slut. It really doesn’t need to a bad thing anymore. It’s okay to dress a little provocatively and enjoy your own sexuality without worrying what other people will think or what other people can potentially do to harm you. Being a slut doesn’t have to be about insecurity; it can be about confidence and self-love and self-respect and satisfaction. It can be a way to take control of your life and others’ opinions. Oh, and it can also be a hell of a lot of fun.

‘Tis the season to be jolly, to count thy blessings, and to make itemized lists of all the things you want. I used to wish for an easy bake oven, then Justin Timberlake’s hand in marriage, then an unlimited supply of Louboutins…oh, wait, I could still definitely go for that. In addition to a shoe closet to rival Mariah Carey’s (and world peace), I also wish for a shift in our collective sexual culture. We have all the potential to be sexually liberated, but we just won’t let ourselves — as a society — be that great. My ultimate five wishes are:

1. There would be free forms of birth control.

Unplanned pregnancy is awful. Abortion is not ideal. Luckily, there is this wonderful invention called contraception that would greatly decrease the occurrence of both. The reality of the situation is that people are going to have sex because it feels amazing, not always because they want to pop out babies, and our society needs to adjust to this and make contraception as accessible as possible. The risks of unprotected sex are far too great.

2.  Rape would never happen.

Without a doubt, rape and sexual assault are some of the most traumatizing experiences a person could ever endure, and it breaks my heart that 1 in 4 women will experience one or the other during her time in college. We live in a rape culture, where women are expected to always be available for sexual consumption and our language has stripped “rape” of its meaning (you did not rape your psychology final, okay?). In lieu of rape never happening, I would be over the moon if we could stop automatically jumping to the conclusion that all women who report rape are lying, conniving bitches who were totally asking for it because our skirts were short.

3. We could all be sluts, or prudes, and it wouldn’t be up for judgment. 

I don’t care if you’re saving yourself for marriage or for the next guy who buys you a shot, and no one else should either. As long as you’re being responsible, it’s all fair game.

4. Everyone who is sexually active would get tested regularly. 

Most STDs are not a big deal. They can be cleared up with antibiotics and are not any more disgusting than a cold or flu. If we could treat our sexual health like our dental or overall physical health, there would probably a lot less disease transmission, since people would be open about their status. Gonorrhea would be the new strep throat.

5. Everyone would have sex because they want to. 

There would be no having of sex because you feel peer pressure, or you desperately need validation, or because you were really, really, really wasted and you didn’t even know what you were doing for real. Sex should be fun. If it’s not, take a step back and re-evaluate. There’s nothing wrong with abstinence or celibacy.

Basically, I just want everyone to be sex-positive. What’s on your personal sexy wishlish? More orgasms? More kink? Less bad cunnilingus? I want to know!

Girls are terrible to each other.

Girls are each other’s own worst enemies.

But…WHY?

Why is it that guys can be each other’s brothers but girls can’t seem to get it together enough to be each other’s sisters? Why are girls so goddamn catty? Where is the love? Where is the loyalty?

I want answers and I want them now. Yes, I’m being serious. I have questions and I want answers. So, give em to me. Explain the reasoning behind this girl on girl hatred.

1. Why do girls call another girl pretty or skinny with a tone of disgust? You know what I’m talking about. Imagine this sentence being exchanged from one girl to another girl, about a girl passing on the street: “Oh my god…..she is so….skinny…(or, if you prefer, skinnnnayyyyy).” Why the attitude problem?

2. Why do girls call other girls sluts? Any girl who has thought about the meaning of the word ‘SLUT’ knows it is offensive. The thinking girl knows that this word can be used to describe a woman who flirts with another woman’s boyfriend or a woman who has slept with people she didn’t love. The thinking girl knows that there is no definition to this word and that it is hurtful to all women alike, so why do some girls say it?

3. Why are girls so judgmental? Why do you have to break down 1,000,000 walls before a girl will let you in to be her friend? I feel like tons of my friends sit at the bar ready to claw any girl who is nice to them. What does a girl have to do to make some freakin’ girl friends?

4. Why do girls assume that every girl their boyfriend and/or aspiring lover is friends with is either f*cking him or wants to f*ck him? Girls should know better than anyone that we can be friends with a boy without wanting to do him. So why don’t girls give other girls this benefit of the doubt?

5. Why do girls gossip? Why do girls swear they can keep a secret just so they can have dirt to tell everyone else? Why are girls such bad friends to each other sometimes?

I want to know your answers.

[Photo from: aolcdn.com]

If Young Hollywood wants to be sluts and douchebags, let ‘em. Maybe someday soon they’ll flush themselves out and finally make room for some actual talent to come through.

Ashlee Simpson seems ready and willing to help with that massive flush each and every time she makes a public appearance. Take, for example, her little snafu today at a DC radio station.

Insisting that his client was “simply just tired”, a representative for the younger Simpson sibling defended her slurred and loopy guest appearance on this morning’s Hot 99.5’s Kane In The Morning show.

“Ashlee was absolutely not intoxicated this morning on Hot 99.5”, her representative whines. “She has been working extremely hard traveling across the country to promote her upcoming new album by performing at night and waking up very early the next day to do radio interviews in the morning – like any of us would be – she was simply just tired.”

I love the “I was tired” excuse. It’s so the opposite of believable.

Look, people. When I’m exhausted, I’m bitchy, I’m monosyllabic, and I put my eyeliner on crooked. I don’t say bizarre things and slur my words. Exhaustion does not make you SLUR YOUR WORDS. It makes you say, “I’m sorry, I’m really tired this morning, give me a second to collect my thoughts.”

You know what DOES make you slur your words though? Liquor. Too much of it. Oh yeah, and pills. Well, those things and having a stroke—but I mean, Ashlee didn’t have a stroke.

She may, however, have been really f&*cking hungover.

Just say it like it is, Young Hollywood: “I’m young, I’m rich, no one tells me what to do. So I got ass-backwards drunk the night before a big radio interview. Who cares? Let’s talk about how awesome I am.”

At least you’d be telling the truth.

For those of you who missed the airing, or the hundred replays this week on VH1, I offer you this recap of all that went down on the final episode of my favorite show this year.

The show was hosted by Riki Rachtman. (for those of you who were three when he was famous, Rachtman was the host of Headbanger’s Ball in the 80’s and a close friend of Axl Rose).

Rachtman brought out the “Barbie Twins” first; Kristia and Brandi C. These two are either really stupid, or incredibly good at using their dumb acts to their advantage. The two are living together in Los Angeles and often share the same bed. They like to put their enormous breasts together to think better. This gets Bret “a little turned on.” Apparently everyone on reality TV has a clothing line coming out, and these two are no exception. I’m sure it’s going to do really well. Right?

Then comes a crowd favorite- crazy crazy Rodeo. She still has that really nutty look in her eye and tells Bret that she wants a second chance with him. He tries with all his might to ignore the comment and not make things incredibly awkward. They are, and become even more awkward when Rodeo pulls out her Barbeque sauce and plugs. That’s right Rodeo makes Barbeque sauce and it’s organic to boot. Her sex noises however turned Bret on.

Next, Riki calls down of my personal favorite gals, Sam, and she looks cute as ever. Sam tells Riki and Bret that she was grossed out by Bret’s sex with Lacey and threesomes with the twins. She didn’t know what she expected but she knew she was better than them. So when she left she knew it was right and Bret was not someone she was going to have an intimate mental connection with. Bret says he was turned on by the F-you kiss she gave him.

Lacey time! The crazy self-made villain comes out guns blazing. She’s ready for anything and actually presents herself fairly well. She’s in some sort of production with VH1 to host a rocker show (yes the trust fund baby, so rock and roll). She fully admits to sleeping with Bret which I have to give her props for because at least she’s not evil and a liar. Her and Dallas start to go at it again in regards to animal rights (who cares?!) and Lacey gives Dallas a T-Shirt she made that says “Dallas Loves Michael Vick.” Dallas responds by saying she doesn’t date black men. Can this shit get any better? Heather and Lacey kiss and make up, and decide they both aren’t whores after all. Bret pops a boner.

Heather looks amazing, sporting a faux “Sucks” tattoo under the now infamously permanent “Bret” insignia on the back of her neck. She seems to have transcended the 80’s hair and she looks gorgeous. Being rejected by Bret has done good things for her. She says that she still cares about Bret, and he’ll be in her heart forever and vice versa. Blah blah, Bret says he still wants to f*&^ her.

Jes finally comes out and there is an awkward cheek kiss. They haven’t spoken in six months and she’s clearly pissed off about the way he treated her after the show wrapped. She says flat out he belongs with Heather, and Bret Michaels is too much of a pussy for actually admitting that he could fall in love with Heather.

As cool as Jes is, she did seem too cool for the entire show. Why on earth was she there? I gave her a lot of respect for passing her Rock of Love title onto Heather and the end of the show left us wondering, and wanting to know if Bret and Heather have found each other. I have a sneaking suspicion the answer is no, but that just means in about 6 months the void in my life will be able to be filled with “Rock of Love: 2.”

Tucker Max is the author of his—fittingly narcissistic—self-titled website, where he has published over 80 very detailed stories about his ridiculous sex soirées. This guy is a true work of art. He published this disclaimer:

“If you are a reasonably intelligent female, it should be obvious that you don’t want to date me. I am shallow, narcissistic, self-absorbed, and insufferably arrogant. I have no desire to commit to anything beyond a cell phone contract. At any given time, I am fucking multiple women, and will not give up that sexual freedom for a partner.”

He writes the most grotesque (but addictively entertaining) stories about banging midgets, trying anal sex and dating (and getting sued by) Miss Vermont. Oh yea, there was also that story about a girl who tattooed “I fucked Tucker Max” on her vajayjay three hours after meeting him.

He is brutally honest about his offensive intentions, and still, girls make insane efforts to hook up with him. What’s the appeal?

I can’t say for sure. But I’d guess it has something to do with his I-don’t-give-a-f@#k attitude, accompanied by his blogosphere celebrity status.

I’ll admit, after a few days of reading TuckerMax—once my initial disgust subsided—I began to find him attractive. He’s an extremely witty writer who gets more famous each day, which has something to do with the attractiveness-factor. But, really, the fact that he nonchalantly gets more ass than any guy I know—and doesn’t even try—is a turn-on.

So, yea, I would totally hook up with Tucker Max. However, the night would not end with a tattoo…

Would you hook up with Tucker Max?

Are you kidding me? Ever hear of something called self-respect?

Absolutely, I want a story written about me!