"OMG. I can't believe I just called him the wrong name."

A few weeks ago, I asked one of my boys what guys were most afraid of in the bedroom. For him it was knockin’ a girl up. For me it was weird farty noises.

Needless to say, I felt a bit shallow. I mean, shouldn’t I be the one fearing a bun in the oven? And shouldn’t he just be scared of skid marks in his boxer shorts?

I wanted to know if I was alone, so this week I asked the CollegeCandy writers to share their biggest nightmares involving boys. Some of them have experienced them and others, thankfully, have avoided the awkwardness thus far. Luckily, I’m not alone in my fears. And even more luckily, none of this shiz has ever plagued me before.

I just pray and hope it never does.

Thu – USC: Standing up and discovering that you’ve started your period. Yup, Superbad status.

Elizabeth – UC Berkeley: Having gas while you’re hooking up.  Or even worse – farting in your sleep while they’re still awake.  Definitely guilty of that one.

Kayla – California State University, Sacramento: If my boyfriend ever found out about the ghastly habits I indulge in when I close the bathroom door, I would have to enroll in the Witness Protection Program.

Kim – Stanford: My worst nightmare in the bedroom was when his mother walked in on us, said sorry, but to come down for some cookies when we were done. True story.

Ava – NYU: Hmm, I think it would have to be vomiting on a guy. There’s a way in which drunk isn’t sexy…Luckily, this hasn’t happened to me. Let’s hope that never changes!

Lauren – University of Michigan: The time I clogged the toilet at a boy’s house. And he had to come in and help me clean it up. Just thinking about it gives me the chills.

Kay- Simmons College: Farting or queefing during the act is mortifying.

Lindsay – University of Texas: I had a sick stomach and my fiance and I were 69ing and I farted in his face. Most humiliating moment of my entire life. I have no clue why he’s still engaged to me.

Sarabeth – University of Texas: I’m always terrified that somehow in bed I’m going to end up kneeing him in the balls. I’d feel sooooo bad if that happened, and I take extra precaution to insure my knee is no where near the naughty bits.

Jordan – University of Miami: Trying to show off a hair-flipping sexy move from an exercise pole dancing class and giving him a bloody nose. So much for sexy.

Noa – CU Boulder: I hadn’t waxed my bikini line in a long time. When I was hooking up with this guy he took of my pants and actually said “Whoa.” I wanted to cry.

Sara C- Fordham: I was visiting my hometown crush at his school during my spring break. One day I was taking a shower, and in the middle of washing my hair I started to feel really ill. I called to him in the next room, he came in, and I threw up all over him. No, I wasn’t drunk. Yes, I was naked, with suds in my hair.

What do you fear most?

Not gonna lie…this summer hasn’t been the friskiest for me. And I know this may sound creepy, but I feel like that guy from Superbad when he’s telling his friend that as a kid he went through a stage where he just couldn’t stop drawing penises. They were just, like, always on his mind.

So maybe it’s because of my dry spell or whatever, but for some reason, penises are just always on my mind lately, too. And since I’m not getting in me any time soon, I might as well look elsewhere to fill my penis void. Turns out, there is plenty of peen out there.

The Penis Bowl: “Take it and pass it” doesn’t sound quite as slutty with this guy.

Penis Soap: Yes, you can feel clean after you interact with one.

The Penis Pillow: Softer is better.

The Penis Cake: My two favorite things together as one.

The Penis Vase: If I can’t put a peen in my flower, I’ll put a flower in my peen.

The Dong Bong: Oh, when it hits your lips…

We’re back with another edition of G.W.W.E. (Guys We Wanna Eff)!

I’m a big SNL fan, and while my love for cast member Andy Samberg is well-known, I’ve got to pay homage to my other main funnyman, Bill Hader.

The cutie from Oklahoma hit it big on the weekly sketch comedy and has made memorable performances as half of the Same-Sex Couple From New Jersey (“ayooo!”) and former New  York Governor Eliot Spitzer (you know, the one with the hooker problem), among others. But no matter what role he’s playing, you can’t disguise his tall, lean frame and that wry, wide grin.

However, Bill crossed the line from cute to sexy in (one of my all-time favorites) Superbad as half of McLovin’s policeman posse. It was the first time I had seen Bill in a breakout film role (since then, he’s appeared in Forgetting Sarah Marshall and Pineapple Express) and, well, there’s just something about that police uniform that is irresistibly effable.  And “bona-fide badass,” as he says.

So as Bill continues his run on SNL, I’ll keep hoping  I get to eff him live from New York one Saturday night. Or Friday, if that works. Or Wednesday…

I really am sad to see it go. That’s why while my friends are celebrating the coming of 2009 with unlimited alcohol and tons of Jaeger bombs, I too will be drinking heavily…only I will be doing it to drink away my sorrows at the passing of the best year of my life.

Yeah, I’m slightly excited for 2009 to get here (and for all-you-can-drink), but 2008 is a tough act to follow and I’m not sure it can be topped.

Regardless of how you felt about 2008, it is about to be gone forever. Tonight people around the world will be saying TTYN to ’08. Some will be drinking (heavily), some will be laying low and the rest will probably be smoking pot and watching Superbad with a Costco box of Cheez Its by their side.

Which one are you gonna be? What are your super awesome plans for New Years Eve 2009?

What? You don't agree?

You may not have noticed him in Anchorman, or remember him being in The 40 Year Old Virgin, but, come on, you didn't wanna eff him in Knocked Up? Rogan is even starring in "Zack & Miri Make a Porno," which obviously means he is 100% effable.]

I have never told anyone this before, but after I saw Knocked Up with my (now ex) boyfriend, I was totally turned on. Weird, right? I mean, the thought of having a baby totally freaked me out, and seeing that baby come out of Katherine Heigl’s va-jay totally grossed me out, but I couldn’t keep my hands to myself the entire way home.

And then I realized why: I totally wanted to eff Seth Rogan.

He’s not the type of guy you’d drool over at the bar, (in fact he’s more the type of guy that smokes pot in the corner), nor is he the type your mom would necessarily love to have over for dinner. He was the dorky guy in high school who watched as all the taller, hotter dudes (without the Jew-Fro) got all the girls.

But that is why we love him. Well, that and the fact that he is just really effing hilarious.

Rogan is a comedy genius. You saw Superbad, didn’t you? And Da Ali G show? Yeah, he wrote those. Imagine how much more fun sex can be when you got a man this funny by your side (or on top/underneath/behind you). And he’s all cuddly and cute…and looks really hot in those glasses. I’m getting all hot and bothered just thinking about it.

Seriously, give this dude another look; you too will see why he’s a guy we wanna eff.

[I like to think of myself as a pretty easy going gal, and try not to sweat the small stuff. But sometimes (ok, maybe slightly more often) the general cluelessness, carelessness and overall stupididty of some things and or/people really gets to me. I find that venting is the most efficient way to rid myself of the stress that idiots, wrong meal orders, lack of cell phone ettiquette and cheese flavored products (that don’t even contain any freaking cheese!) induce. So, in an attempt to avoid an ulcer or an unfortuante road rage incident, I vent to you, dear reader. Please feel free to join in and comment about anything–really, anything–that pissed. you. off. this week. Let it all hang out. I feel you.]

Football game traffic.

Under no condition should any human be confined to a small metal box harnessed into their seats and surrounded by others doing the same thing. A sweet play list is only a small consolation for being stuck in bumper to bumper traffic as you jealously stare at drunken fans playing flip cup on their front lawns, hours ahead of your severely lacking tailgate level. The only thing worse than the knowledge of your slowly depleting gas tank is the realization that you are missing out on precious pregaming time.

Senseless Acts of Brutality.

I hope that the inclusion of the tragic events affecting Jennifer Hudson’s family on this list doesn’t seem insensitive, because I am pissed. The woman, apart from being beautiful and talented, seems like such a kind person that it’s hard to imagine how anyone could hurt her and her family. Additionally, the pain inflicted on their family is only deepened by the disappearance of Hudson’s 7-year-old nephew. However horribly inhumane it is to commit murder, to take a child from their home and place them in danger is unforgivable a thousand times over. I hope the guilty party is caught and subject to the same pain they put the Hudson family through.

Severe Under-appreciation for Kings of Leon.

This band kicks ass. Don’t believe me? Check them out. If you already know of them and their general awesome-ness, then you can back me up in saying “Why the F**K aren’t these guys owning MTV?” They’re huge everywhere else (they’ve sold twice as many albums in Britain than they have in the U.S.) so why haven’t we jumped on the band…um, wagon optional. Let’s hope that their tour de force of NYC builds a bigger fan base for these rock geniuses, because if I have to listen to Flo-Rida reiterating that this is his jam and demanding that I get my hands in the “ayer,” sh*t’s gonna get ugly.

Apatow Wannabe’s.

Seriously? I mean, the man has made some pretty hilarious films, but there has to be a point of saturation when it comes to comedies that revolve around pot, bromance and titties. Pineapple Express, Sarah Marshall, the upcoming Zack & Miri Make a Porno are all valiant attempts at comedy gold on par with Knocked Up, Superbad and 40 Year Old Virgin, but at some point plotlines surrounding slackers with hearts of gold and gratuitous nudity become a little much—never mind the fact that the same clique of guys stars in every.single.one. The Frat Pack has moved on, maybe it’s time you guys should too.

Survivor Style Jury Duty.

As if jury duty didn’t suck hard enough, the 12 jurors of Senator Ted Stevens’ corruption trial (who have been in session since September 22, BTdubs) are dropping like flies—or at least attempting to knock off their fellow flies. Thanks to one disturbed woman, who was “rude, disrespectful and unreasonable” aimed “violent outbursts” at other jury members, the foreman wrote the presiding judge a note, asking to vote her off the island coutroom. Uh, guys? It’s that senator sitting out there standing trial for tricking out his mansion with goodies given to him by the heads of Big Oil that you’re supposed to be deliberating over—not each other.

Ok, now that I’ve got my judgy rant out of the way I can take a bubble bath and center my chi. What pissed you off this week?

What am I going to be using it for? If you’re buying a fake primarily just to buy your friends booze every once in awhile, it’s probably not worth it to go through the whole process of getting one. It would be easier to just find an older friend to buy for you. If you want one to get into concerts, bars, clubs, comedy clubs, etc., with friends who also have fakes or who are older, then it’s more beneficial for you to have one. This way you’re at least getting your money’s worth, and you know for sure you have others who can join you in your illegal adventures.

Who am I buying one off of? Some of my friends have gotten fakes from a random sketchy place down in Chinatown. Even though they only paid 60 bucks for it, the ID says that it’s not government issued and a lot of places haven’t accepted them. Needless to say, they got sh*tty fakes.

It’s better to buy a fake ID off of someone who will show you what his fakes look like and who has some references so you know how the IDs have held up. Even better is someone who will replace your ID if it doesn’t end up scanning or if you don’t like the end result.

Keep in mind, some good fake IDs are pricey. I know of friends who make un-scannable IDs for 80 bucks while certain ID’s that do scan cost between $100-$150.

Am I ready to deal with the consequences if I get caught? This is a HUGE question to ask yourself before buying a fake because you never know what can happen or how your area deals with IDs. My friend was caught with a fake ID in my small hometown and arrested for it while two of my friends caught in NYC just had their’s taken away with a slap on the wrists. Depending on who catches you, there can be major consequences that could seriously eff up the rest of your life. NEVER take buying a fake lightly.

All in all, my friends who have fakes have been happy and understand the risks involved. Mine has held up for more then a year with no problems (knock on wood) — although I am very picky about where I go with it.

Two more details to keep in mind: know what the real state ID of your fake looks like and ALWAYS have your real name on the fake. Using a fake name is identity theft and if caught, your charges will be worse.

If you’re not up to getting a fake, using an older friend’s ID works too. Or…you know, just wait until you’re 21.

Any thoughts or advice on fakes? Would you get one?

Well, several weeks ago, I “slapped God in the face.”

Sure, the road to recovery is a bumpy one: Pain like you wouldn’t believe, that can’t even be fixed by prescriptions. The healing of scars. Ruining every bra with ointments to help me get better…

But all the negatives aside, here are my favorite things about my breast reduction thus far.

Hi, my face is up here: You can’t believe how refreshing it is to have guys look at my face instead of just my chest. I used to have full-on conversations with people and their eyes somehow stayed fixated on my chest the entire time. Classy, right? It’s nice to be reminded that some people in this world do make eye contact.

Cutest bras EVER: Why didn’t Victoria’s Secret ever make fun bras in my old size?

Whoa, my clothes fit: I like that now I can “fill out” my tops in lieu of “spill out” of my tops. Now I don’t look like my boobs are overflowing all of my dresses.

I CAN DO THAT?: I can now comfortably touch my toes, run without my back or neck spazzing out every five seconds, wear one bra to the gym instead of two and borrow shirts from people without being scared that I’d stretch them in the wrong places.

The positives outweigh the negatives for sure, and the only thing I can say is: sh*t, I wish I did this sooner.

Turns out, it got better. The kissing got better, the men I kissed got better, the touching, the sweaty make-out sessions and the ridiculous hormones that flew about with reckless abandon, that all got better and definitely got put to use, frequently.

Then, I remember my “first time”. I remember thinking that it was short. Fumbling and awkward. And then I remember thinking, “Sh*t, I hope this get’s better or I don’t know what all the fuss is about.”

Well, yippee…it got better. A lot better. For myself and my friends included.

They had their apprehensions, slept with a few different people, experimented and started getting more comfortable in their skin, with their bodies and their bellies, their boobs and their asses…and for most of us, everything continued to get better and better. We stopped feeling guilt, stopped feeling as if we were doing something “bad”, and started to embrace that we were doing something GREAT, something human and physically and emotionally fulfilling.

Rather than just being some toy for guys, we found a way to make sex something for US. We made it “our thing”. It wasn’t just an activity for “The Boys Club”. We got ours when we wanted it, too. We didn’t wait for booty-calls, instead we gave them. That mentality is apparently very surprising to some who think women like sex?! Hell yes they do, so much in fact you could add us into the category titled HORNBALL.

Desire is universal, it is not gender specific.

When I’m at a cafe and an attractive man walks by I’m just as openly honest about how I want to see him naked in my bed as most men are. I sigh at full volume when I see a physical specimen on a street corner, and then yes I get irritated when grimy men do the same when I walk by. There is absolutely a double standard. I don’t appreciate being treated like a piece of meat, but, when a meaty dark-haired blue-eyed hunk brushes by me, I turn my head and make sure I get a nice view of his backside as he walks away. I know I’m not alone. All of my women friends do the exact same thing.

We all have needs. We want to be touched, we want fingertips to run down our backs and we want heavy breathing and incredible orgasms just as much as the next guy.

My personal sexual revolution is evolving everyday. I’m constantly growing into my sexuality as are most women in their “twenty somethings”…and the word on the streets is that we haven’t even hit our prime.

That little piece of info makes me want to do a hitch kick.

I’d really like to see more women living up to their sexuality, embracing it and not being afraid to be open and honest about their desires–just like men. After all, it’s the only way to bust through the misnomer that we “don’t need to get laid”.

WE DO.

I do.

The next thing on the sexual revolution agenda? Creating our own line of chick “guy” movies. SuperBad, I’ll take you on.