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I was living at home for the summer and trying my damdest to survive. All of my friends were either still abroad or doing the internship thing in New York, so I had no one to hang out with besides my parents. And oftentimes they wouldn’t even hang out with me. So I did what any other bored 21-year-old would do – I got a boyfriend.

The kid wasn’t great, but he had some cool friends and he treated me well enough. If anything, it would be just right for 3 months and then we could go our separate ways come Fall. The only problem was, I found him horribly irritating when we were sober. He thought he was sooo funny (he wasn’t), soooo smart (maybe at Jeopardy trivia), and soooo perfect (which he could have been had he actually been funny or brilliant). That being said, most of our time together was spent at the bar.

One night we were at some dive bar with a few of his friends and we noticed the waitresses setting up a beer pong table. We walked over to investigate and ended up getting to play first against his friends. It was $10 a team to play and the losing team paid for both. The winning team stayed on. So we set up our cups and we played. We beat his friends. We played again. We won again. And again. And again. By the fifth game I was pouring my beer on the floor and trying to miss so I wouldn’t have to play or drink anymore.

But we won again.

There were teams lining up to play us, hoping to knock us out, but they never got the chance. One of the bartenders came over, cut me and the BF off and announced that beer pong would be done for the night. I guess they realized that had served two people a bit too much (maybe because I was dancing on the beer pong table between games?) and had to pull the plug before it got too crazy.

So we left. I don’t remember much else from that point – I remember getting in a cab, getting into bed, and a hot and steamy sesh in the middle of the night. The next thing I remember is waking up in the morning in the BF’s bed. He was on the floor…. and I was covered in something icky and sticky. It was all over my arms, it was on my back and it was in my hair.

“WTF is this?” I thought to myself, thoroughly grossed out. “What the hell did I let him do to me last night?”

I pulled back the covers and then it all came back to me: the cab ride to Taco Bell, the screams of “Yo quiero Chalupa” from the back of the cab in the drive-thru, the brilliant idea to eat our feast in bed, passing out before our feast had been finished….

The sexy time.

“Oh my god,” I said out loud. “I had sex with a Chalupa.” Just like me, the sheets were covered in cheese, crumbled up tacos and beef. I climbed over the mess to wake up the BF and found him surrounded by tortilla chips. I woke him up and explained my discovery.

“By the way, why are you on the floor?” I asked.
“I didn’t want to sleep in the wet spot.” He explained.

It was actually salsa.

His room smelled like Taco Bell for days and three months later, as we were packing him up to go back to school, we were still finding taco remnants under the bed. Our relationship ended there and I haven’t thought about him much since, but I never looked at TB the same again.

When I think of Taco Bell, I think of the time I got really drunk and woke up with a chicken soft taco in my bed. And then ate it for breakfast.

I think about their sweet, delicious churros. And how everything there is smothered in ooey, gooey delicious processed cheese. Then topped with sour cream. I think about how I learned my first Spanish phrase from their little spokes-dog.

What I don’t think about is diet or weight loss. I mean, it’s Taco Bell – who would?

Well, someone did. 

Apparently some lady with a deep love for burritos lost 50 pounds eating Taco Bell (from the drive-thru – homegirl couldn’t even get out of the car). And now, thanks to her tremendous success, the head honchos over at Taco Bell HQ are trying to make us all think about Taco Bell in a new way. As in a healthy-after-workout option and not in a only-when-you’re-black-out-drunk sorta way.

I don’t know about you, but I just don’t buy it. I want to lose my muffin top (which has made its way to Costco-size) just as much as the next girl who spent her first three days of 2010 eating some variation of noodles and cheese, but at Taco Bell? Let’s be honest – any weight lost  “thinking outside the bun” will be lost on the toilet. I know you know what I’m talkin’ about. And I know for a fact that’s not the way any of us want to spend our 2010.

I applaud Taco Bell for their attempts to introduce vegetables to their loyal Gordita-guzzling patrons, but pushing the Fresco Fourth Meal as a weight loss option? That’s just insulting.

Stick to what you’re good at, Taco Bell: low grade meat smothered in fake cheese and gobbled up by drunk people who’ve long abandoned their dreams of weight loss.

"She's gonna get fat."

As college students, we are constantly inundated with new knowledge. It can be useful, thought-provoking, or crammed into our head on a Starbucks-fueled binge several hours before an exam. However, very rarely do we question the validity of all this new knowledge (unless you take philosophy classes, then you’ll question away).

That’s where College Candy comes in. We’re not going to debate whether or not the Theory of Relativity actually exists (a disappointment, I know, but I’m a communications major and stopped taking science classes after Baby Bio fresh year). However, we are here to thoroughly investigate the most widespread college knowledge (no, not rhyming): the myth.

Alright guys, I’m gonna level with you: I’m a big fan of the brewskies. I like Sam Adams Pumpkin Ale, Sweetwater 420, the occasional stein of Newcastle, and the slightly more frequent funnel full of Bud Light. I particularly like that I can drink copious amounts of beer without the consequences that would come from drinking the same amount of vodka, water & lime. Most of all, I like that beer lends itself easily to day-drinking.

What I don’t like about beer (besides how much it makes me want to sing drinking songs) is that it makes me fat.

It’s not even the eventual, slowly-creeping-towards-your-thighs fat. It’s like an immediate, “I’m so carbonated and delicious and I’m going to make you so full you can’t suck in anymore” variety of fat. So it’s no wonder that beer contributes majorly to the Freshman 15, right? Ehh, yes and no.

The typical 12 ounce beer has around 150 calories. So obviously, each one you drink adds to your bottom line of calorie intake. The more calories you consume without burning them off, the more weight you’re gonna gain (I know, it’s all very scientific). But if you carefully measure out your Stairmaster time to counteract the beer pong tournament you plan on winning later and you’re still gaining weight, it might not be Natty Light’s fault.

A strange thing happens when I drink beer. Come the end of the party/night/gameday/Happy Hour, I feel this strange magnetic force pulling me in the direction of anywhere that serves cheese fries. I’m not the only one, right?  Ok, good.

Beer, while awesome, still has alcohol in it (actually I’m pretty sure that’s what makes it awesome). Alcohol has this sneaky, two pronged approach to weight gain. In and of itself, it’s a highly caloric waste of nutritional value. On top of that, it lowers inhibitions. So not only are you more likely to make out with that guy who dressed up as a Smurf for Halloween (my best friend is still trying to get the blue body paint off of her sheets), you’re more likely to think that a Big Mac is totally worth blowing your day of careful eating and yoga. And it might not stop at the Big Mac, because we all know McDonald’s is a gateway drug to pizza and Lucky Charms.

So, while beer will make you gain weight (without exercise and self-control), another often-overlooked aspect of weight gain is beer’s BFF, Drunk Eating. The best way to avoid gaining a beer gut that isn’t even beer? Don’t stock your fridge with unhealthy crap, keep snacks in pre-portioned containers or bags, and for the love of all that is holy do not ask the cab driver to stop at Taco Bell on the way home! Instead, eat a good dinner with complex carbs and protein on nights you know you’re goin’ out big. Good judgment before 5 rounds of flip cup might just ensure better judgment after you are dubbed queen of the first try flip.

Mmm. Only 480 calories of fast food goodness.

I can’t lie: I love fast food. So much so that I have mapped out all the fast-food restaurants near my campus and committed all of their locations to memory, as well as the fastest routes to get there. And I may have instructed a cab driver to swing by and grab me a large order of fries and honey for dipping them on the way home from the bar. Twice. Yeah, that’s a bit excessive, but don’t judge; we have all experienced that moment when the dining hall slop is simply too underwhelming and all we want is a Big Mac. And fries. And a milkshake to wash it all down.

It is my firmest belief that fast-food restaurants should be listed as one of America’s deadliest sins. But because I can’t say no to a good drive-thru (Editor’s Note: Don’t try the drunken walk-through-the-drive-thru…they don’t like that), I decided to figure out the healthiest options to order in hopes of keeping obesity at bay. And it’s surprisingly not that hard to find healthy options at grease pits these days.

If you’ve got a hankering for some good ol’ fast food but don’t want to undo that 90-minute Vinyasa class, these are the best options for you:

Wendy’s: I truly believe Wendy’s to be the 4-star restaurant of the fast-food nation. I wish they could all be a little more like Wendy. I would recommend the Mandarin Chicken Salad with Oriental Sesame Dressing and Roasted Almonds. It’s 480 calories and delectable to the last bite. If salad isn’t your bag, try the Ultimate Chicken Grill Sandwich. Only 320 calories and yet still a hearty sandwich. As the name states, it’s the ultimate.

Taco Bell: Taco Bell’s Fresco menu is basically the same items, minus the sour cream. You can get a crunchy taco for only 150 calories. That’s like a 100-calorie pack taco meal. I like the sound of that. But just a warning: You may be saving on calories, but it won’t save you any more time in the bathroom. It’s the curse of Taco Bell. Learn to live with it.

Burger King: We all remember the Whopper Freakout. We don’t need that happening again. It seems the Whopper is undeniable, so I won’t tell you not to eat it. But I will advise you against the Angry Triple Whopper as it clocks in at 1,360 calories. You’ll get the same bang for you buck with the Whopper Jr (370 calories), and you won’t have to do a Target run for larger pants on your way home.

Dominos: The late night Domino’s delivery is inevitable. Accept it. So when you’re craving a slice of pizza to soak up all the alcohol in your system and, face it, you’re going to order a large, here are the lightest options: Cheese, Veggie, Philly Steak, Ham and Pineapple and Grilled Chicken and Veggies. These pizzas all weigh in at about 250 calories per slice. Try not to eat the whole pie by yourself, though. Disaster.

KFC: Resisting their Famous Bowls is like turning down a date with Jude Law for me. But KFC has so many low-fat choices that I simply can’t chow down on biscuits and mashed potatoes in good faith. Now that they are offering Kentucky Grilled Chicken, there is no excuse. Also, may I present for your enjoyment the Honey Barbecue Sandwich—300 calories. Delish.

McDonalds: If Super Size Me has taught you anything, DON’T SUPERSIZE YOUR MEAL! If you ever wondered why the arches are golden, it’s because they’re deep-fried in grease, so back away from the fries, people! Try a Premium Asian Salad with Grilled Chicken (300 calories and 10 grams of fat) or a Grilled Chicken Snack Wrap (260 calories and 9 grams of fat) instead.

Chipotle: If you want to be healthy, just don’t go to Chipotle. It may be buffet style giving you complete control of what you will be eating, but if you’re like me, you’re not going to be able to deny all the toppings they have to offer. In fact, you’re probably going to demand extra guacamole. Right there you’re talking about 1,437 calories and 57 grams of fat. I’m currently hanging my head in shame.

2009 seems to be a terrible year for pop culture icons. First Farrah, then Michael and now Gidget, our favorite Spanish-speaking pooch.

At the ripe old age of 15, Taco Bell’s infamous pup has passed away…. and will no doubt end up in someone’s Chalupa tomorrow. (Sorry, too soon?)

So, rest in taco peace, little guy! Thanks for teaching me the only (partial) Spanish phrase I know!

I’ve hooked up with quite a few people in my time on this planet. I won’t share my number here, because that’s nobody’s business but mine and the unfortunate roommates who had to listen as I added more boys to the list, but let’s just say I’ve had my fair share of romps.

My “number,” however, only reflects about 75% of them.

Why? Well, because there are some that just shouldn’t count. Like the guy who couldn’t keep it up, or the one who left while I was sleeping and I wouldn’t recognize again if he was lying in my bed completely naked. Or the one who referred to my lady parts as “Taco Bell” (as in, “Yo quiero your Taco Bell”) and was immediately asked to leave.

Why should I count someone who likened my vajay to a Chalupa?

We all have those guys or hookups that just shouldn’t count. And by “count” I mean “never happened and I am going to drink heavily so I completely block it out.” I asked the CollegeCandy writers to tell me which guys didn’t make their list. Where do you draw the line?

Alana – Boston University: When you’re cuddling with your close guy friend and it just sort of happens…

Lindsay – University of Texas: When he drools all over your face and chin.

Ness – Sheridan: If it’s in, it counts.

Leah – Ryerson University: When you push him off and tell him to f*** off because you can tell it’s going to suck within seconds on any contact.

Donnette – Manhattanville College:  When you tell yourself that it doesn’t because he’s a jerk/stalker/cheater/overall write off.

Lauren H – The New School: If neither party remembers what happened, it doesn’t count

Sarabeth – University of Texas: When it only lasts 30 seconds. I unfortunately know from experience.

Dannia – Loyola University, Chicago: When one of you quits and falls asleep halfway (or 1/4 of the way) through.

Lauren – University of Michigan: When he pisses the bed. There is no way in hell I’m counting that one.

Erica – Kent State: When he drunkenly falls asleep on my cheek mid-kiss.  Yeah. That. Happened.

Carrie – Duke: I think every hook up counts. But if you really, really, really regret one, I think you’re allowed to at least pretend it never happened.

Katie – Michigan State: If he doesn’t orgasm, it doesn’t count.

Mechelle – Florida State: When you wake up to find he strongly resembles (and smells like) swamp thing.

Ricki – University of Michigan: When your friends have to tell you that it happened/ exactly what happened.

What do you do when you’re craving delicious, spicy quesadillas? Put down your car keys — there’s no need for Taco Bell (especially when you are sober…that stuff is nasty!). This awesome dinner for two is healthy, inexpensive and easy. No drive-thru required.

You’ll need:

Whole wheat tortillas
1 cup instant brown rice
1 can black beans
1 green pepper, chopped (or you can buy frozen, diced peppers to save time!)
1 onion, chopped
Corn (on the cob is in season, therefore inexpensive and delicious, right now)
Organic salsa (or a chopped tomato)
Mojo marinade/sauce (sold in bottles at the grocery store)
6-8 oz. of chicken, marinated in the Mojo
Cayenne pepper
Black pepper
Salt
Your favorite toppings (lettuce, cheese, sour cream, guac, etc.,)

How You Do It:
1. Fill a large pot with enough water to cover the corn, bring to a boil, then add corn.

2. In a deep skillet, sauté half the peppers and onion in canola oil spray, about 5 minutes or until they’re tender. Set aside about half of them, leave the other half in the pan.

3. Add the black beans (with sauce) and bring to a boil. Add rice and bring to a boil again, let it cook for about 5 minutes.

4. Cover the rice and beans, reduce heat to low.

5. For the chicken, the quickest way to cook it is on the grill or in a skillet on medium-high heat, for about 5 minutes on each side (just make sure the center isn’t pink). If you’re short on time, you can use frozen, diced chicken and just cook it in some Mojo sauce to skip marinating it.

6. Spray both sides of a tortilla with canola oil. Add toppings, chicken, peppers and onion, then fold in half.

7. Remove corn from water. Spread with half a tablespoon of butter and sprinkle with cayenne pepper.

8. Heat a small pan on medium heat, then add the tortilla with all the fixins’. Grill on both sides until it’s golden brown.

9. Serve with corn and black beans and rice, margaritas optional!

Want to know what song is playing on the radio? There’s an app for that.
Want to mix some fruity cocktails by the pool? There’s an app for that.
Wanna get your rocks off with the same electronic you use for making phone calls? There’s an app for that.

The iPhone has an application for everything, and getting fat is no exception. Because Americans weren’t doing a good enough job of porking up on their own, tons of companies are developing programs making it even easier to access the fat. Ironic, considering all the obese people complaining that their pudgy fingers were too big for the keyboard.

You looking to pack on some poundage? Looks like you need an iFat iPhone.

BURGER KING NOW
Drunk Hungry for a juicy burger? Use Burger King Now to find out how far away you are from one of those Whoppers. Because “fast food” isn’t fast enough for your fat ass, you can create your fatty fried meal right from your phone! (Extra fat, hold the veg!)  Pay for it from the palm of your hand, skip the line and get your grub on.

Dunkin Run
Doing a coffee run for you and your friends before class? Too tired to actually speak your order to the hair-netted lady behind the counter? With this handy app, you can invite your friends, making you “the runner.” You can select your order (one giant coffee and a few Boston Cremes) and your friends will be contacted to do the same (and make you feel guilty because they only ordered a non-fat latte). Then you “run” to get the goods without waiting behind the 20 caffeine-hungry bitches already in line.

PIZZA NOW
This app was definitely created with my 3am drunk ass in mind. I am constantly stumbling home screaming, “PIZZA. NOWWW.” Only I have to wait until I get home to put in my order and then wait another 30 minutes for that greasy deliciousness to arrive. That is not now. This app allows you to find the nearest pizza places (in case you are partying in someone else’s part of town) so you can call and order delivery, or map the directions to walk there and eat that shiz on the way home. Mmmm.

Taco Bell Why Pay More Shaker!
So you’re starving but you only have some loose change on you? Taco Bell is hear to help (and clog your arteries). This app calculates the various $0.79, $.89, and $.99 items on the Taco Bell menu that you can afford. Just type in the amount that you have, and watch the value menu items appear before your eyes so you know your yummy options. (That is, if you consider $.79 meat yummy.)

FastFood Premium
Not sure what you’re craving? Find the closest food places to you and choose from Italian, Chinese, American, Thai food, etc. Call the place for directions and get your fat on.

You goin’ out tonight? Gonna hit the town and celebrate that final final? You gonna get so drunk that the only thing on your mind at the end of the night is gooey, cheesy and totally bad for you?

Me too!

But before you a make poor decision that involves you and the delivery places you clearly have on speed dial, read on. There are some snacks out there that are just not worth eating, no matter how many Vodka Red Bulls you’ve downed in honor of the end of History 240. Things you will regret more in the morning than last weekend’s romp with the History 240 T.A. Assuming all that fat and grease doesn’t prevent you from making it to the morning…

Domino’s Bread Bowl Pasta.

Not sure why you would want to eat this, as it both looks and sounds nauseating. But in case your taste buds aren’t satisfied with noodles alone and they long for a massive tub of soggy bread to soak up all the caloric goodness, just remember… NOT TO LISTEN TO THEM! No really– stay far, far away from this god-awful, heart-attack inducing concoction. I mean, who really needs to eat the bowl!? The giant serving of cheesy, creamy, fatty pasta isn’t enought?

It’s just gross. End of story.

Pizza Hut’s P’zone Pizza.

Described as: “Over a pound of toppings and cheese baked into a folded pizza crust!” I’m pretty sure that translates to: “Over a pound of extra fat stuffed into a pair of skinny jeans!”

Taco-Bell’s Nachos BellGrande.

Any food item with the word “grande” in it should most likely (as in, most definitely) be avoided. Unless it’s from Starbucks. You may think it’s not so bad – it’s  prepared with reduced fat sour cream! – but don’t be fooled. Low fat toppings or not,with 760 calories and 1300 mg of sodium (60% of your daily value of salt packed into one snack….er….fourthmeal!) this is a baaaad late night choice.

KFC Chicken and Biscuit Bowl.

(I think I just puked). Imagine of the four unhealthiest food items: fried chicken, mashed potatoes, cheese, and biscuits. Now pile them on top of one another, smother the stuff in gravy, and whad’ya get? Something you should probably never eat.

Pizza Hut’s Stuffed Crust Pizzas.

If pizza itself isn’t a bad enough choice for curing (or provoking) the munchies, try pizza with extra cheese literally “stuffed” into the crust. The pie is apparently packed with melted cheese in the crust “so that the last bite is as good as the first.” Yea…so the last bite is as good, and fatty, as the first one. Two (of those very small Pizza Hut) slices have 800 calories. And if that wasn’t harmful enough, just imagine those grease burns you’ll get when that sh*t drips down your arms. Probably not the best choice during bikini season. Or ever.

But what are the kinds of things that you would never want to find in your guy’s room? Besides the very obvious (unrecognizable panties, bras, earrings, condom wrappers) I can name a few…

1. Super Creepy Porn.

You can pretty much accept the fact that there will be some form of porn in your guy’s room at some point. You can also be fairly sure that you will accidentally intercept said pornography via mail, browser history or that shoebox under his bed. (Tip: boys don’t want you to surprise them with spring cleaning; you probably shouldn’t want to surprise them with it either.) No big deal, I say, come to terms with the fact that while your guy absolutely loves hooking up with you, he will still want to look at porn. It’s just a different outlet for their sexuality and can actually improve your sex life when seen from the right perspective. Additionally, it’s a good substitute for when your boyfriend wants to get it on (always) and you don’t (rarely, but it happens). If there were no porn there would be an abnormally high amount of blue balls or of extremely exhausted girlfriends.

All the benefits of porn aside, though, there are some types you don’t want to find. I’m not even talking about anal, little people or ridiculously oversized toys (all pretty normal in porn-world.) I’m talking animals. I’m talking leprechaun-on mermaid-on Easter bunny 3-ways. I’m talking about really flattering pictures of you superimposed over the faces of “interacting” nuns (definitely not real Catholics). Unless your man has previously shared his kink-tastic ways with you, skeevy porn is definitely something you do not want to find in your man’s room…unless you’re into it…

2. Bloody Clothes.

You’d think this would be a pretty huge red flag, but there are plenty of excuses as to why your man might have bloody clothes in his room. Perhaps he is an outdoorsman who enjoys slaughtering deer on weekends. Maybe he was building you a birdhouse and things went seriously wrong with the electrical sander. Or, for those of use with the more typical college boyfriend, he was drunk and tripped on/punched/tried to cartwheel over something and got hurt doing it. All of those reasons aside, should you find a duffel bag with a black turtleneck, jogging pants, ski mask and/or machete covered in blood, run for the hills, girl.

3. A Shrine-Like Gathering of Your Personal Items.

Remember Helga from “Hey! Arnold”? Yea, the crazy blonde who built a very realistic rendition of Arnold out of his used gum. Well you just found a creepily similar statue tucked behind your man’s winter coats. It’s a great complement to the ring of scented votives in a circle around the pair of panties you wore the first time you two hooked up (you knew they went missing…), a suspiciously your-hair-colored hairball, pictures of you undressing that look like they were taken from a distance and old love letters…to your ex-boyfriends, dating back to Aaron from 4th grade. I can’t see how this would be construed as flattering, so don’t even let that thought enter your head, ladies – Noah built Allie a house, not a shrine. Hint: if you find this in his closet, I’d start looking around for the bloody clothes, just to be sure…

4. His “Meds.”

If one day you are innocently on the hunt for some ibuprofen and you find his prescription for anti-psychosis meds, it’s probably not a great sign. If you continue to look for more pills that he neglected to tell you he was on and find a cocktail of Xanax, Percocets, Valtrex and Penicillin it’s definitely a bad sign. Either homeboy has some serious dirt to spill about his last few check-ups, or you might just be dating a drug dealer. Either way, not disclosing certain ailments he has (STD’s, mental disorders, the usual) is a serious breach of trust and needs to be dealt with right away. My suggestion is to call the cops on his RX-happy ass or, if you’re into illegal activity and desperately in need of Spring Break funds, swipe ‘em and ask your most trusted sketchy friend where a gal goes about selling these kinds of things.

5. His other phone.

We all know that going through a loved one’s phone is a huge invasion of privacy and can often end in a breakup (as opposed to going through a stranger’s phone that you found at Happy Hour before returning it to them, which can often end in hilarity.) But let’s say you’re just lounging around one morning that you skipped class, watching some Ellen while your honey picks up bagels for some breakfast in bed. You hear a strange humming, it’s not your phone, and you check his charger—nope, not his phone either. But this vibration is pretty persistent, almost as persistent as an ex-girlfriend trying to get in touch with your boyfriend…

With this hunch, you get up to investigate, put Ellen on mute, and walk around the room listening for the bzzzz. You slowly open his sock drawer, where a mysterious blue light is glowing from the dress sock section (ok he probably doesn’t have his socks categorized, but you get it). You pick up a phone that you’ve never seen before. Michelle Great Rack is calling. You answer, presumably to help this Michelle put her great rack to use with whoever this phone really belongs to, only to have her coo your boyfriend’s name in a very phone-sex inducing voice. After explaining to Michelle that she and her rack have been aiding a cheating lying scumbag, you sift through dirty texts, inappropriate pictures, and AIM conversations so smooth your soon to be ex could be in a shaving cream commercial. You forward a few choice messages to your guy’s “legit” phone before calling him and telling him what you found in his room.

What would make you run screaming from your man’s apartment? Have you ever found any of the above items? Did you stick around long enough to tell him why you won’t be sleeping over anymore?