Good students of THE Colorado State University, we are entering a new era in journalism. The editors of the Collegian have assigned me, the maverick renegade of journalism, to write a new sex column that will appear every other Monday in print and every Monday on the Web site (Collegian.com).
I will detail a guy’s perspective of everything sex (not to worry, I will still be there every Wednesday to help you through your day). I am here to tell the truth, as I see it, no matter how I look in the end.
For the purpose of this column, we will define coitus as the following: When a man and a woman, or a man and a man, or a woman and a woman, or a man or woman and any manner of flora and/or fauna, including German Shepherds, share an intimate, passionate moment with one another.
It begins when any of the former combinations hang out for a long enough period of time to have funny feelings in their pants – and only after they have had too much to drink. Heavy petting and dry humping lead to taking their clothes off and rubbing up against one another in an uncomfortable and spastic manner.
That must sum up everyone’s first time, minus the German Shepherds, I hope.
You all must trust me so that each Monday from here on out, we may engage in a verbal orgy of opinion to see the world through a guy’s crotch. In keeping with the natural order that one must go through to engage in sweet, passionate coitus, I feel as though we need to build a bond a little proverbial foreplay, if you will.
Ladies, please listen closely and take notes whenever applicable.
To end the first column, I would like to share with all of you a little something I’ve learned over the years about this wonderful pastime that we call sex. It’s a dangerous world out there. Between STDs, hideous swamp monsters and the always-present pressure to perform, it’s a wonder any of us guys would want to engage in sexual activity.
There are many tales of triumph and many more of defeat (we’ve all been there, believe me).
We chase a dream that one night, one spectacular night; we find that goddess every guy dreams of, a perfect 10 hiding at the bar or in the back of a party. With nothing more than a glance, we’re in a bed, bathroom, kitchen, closet, back alley or car (you get the point).
She proceeds to fulfill our every fantasy in a porn-star-like fashion. The inebriation has thrown any inhibitions to the floor.
And in the end: We awake from a deep sleep, satisfied and happy. We roll over to find a turkey sandwich and a note with only her phone number on it.
This is the dream of every man, so what do most of us do? We set out, get drunk, and engage in a slobber fest with our roommate’s girlfriend’s unattractive sister. The drunkenness has seized our first mate and after what must be hours, we give up.
In the end, after a drunken, restless sleep, we wake in the arms of a sea donkey reeking of bestiality with 15 pictures on Facebook to explain.
This is the life of a single guy, and I’m here, in the thick of it, to try and translate this crazy journey starting with the chase and ending with the aftermath (deny till you die) in the hopes of entertaining a few of you.
I look forward to the experience.
Kevin Dudley is a senior natural resources major. His column appears every Wednesday in the Collegian. Replies and feedback can be sent to email@example.com.