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Winter thaw breeds spring lust and Columnfornication

The only thing that seems to be newsworthy on the opinion pages of The Daily Free Press these days is sex, sex and more sex. Are you sick of it? Do you wish the horizontal mambo would take a backseat with similarly stagnant subjects such as David Hasselhoff, Pokemon and class attendance?

Of course not! That said, it is my distinct honor to add to this proud tradition of Columnfornication.

Each spring the frozen tundra of Boston sheds its winter coat of ice giving way to a friendly if not beautiful place. With this change of the seasons comes a metamorphosis amongst college students so astounding that one must see to believe. It all starts with the first warm sunny day and eventually snowballs into a blizzard of sexual awareness.

This “Great Sexual Revitalization” is very much a cause and effect situation. First, the women shed their sweaters, pea-coats and jeans and trade them straight up for skirts and tank tops with built in brassieres revealing a cornucopia of skin. This drives the majority of the male, and of course some of the female population, into a mad frenzy of desire. Because of this, gaping stares and animalistic mating behavior consumes our student body like some ravenous plague.

With this increase in female beauty and the repetitive familiarity of phrases like “hot damn, I didn’t know that fine bitty lived in my building yo,” a stupefying effect sets in. Suitors of these scantily yet daintily clad women spend their hours polishing up their finest pick-up lines in preparation for “The Big Score.”

Hence, it will not be uncommon to bear witness to someone dropping a bomb like: “Hey baby, I just went to a palm reader and she saw your phone number between my life and romance lines,” “I need to know seven things about you. Here, I will give you a head start, 3-5-2,” and “Do you believe in love at first sight, or should I walk by again?”

This revolution marks the time we should all drop trough and brandish our sweet asses in desperate hope of being struck love-blind by Cupid’s arrow. Ladies and gentlemen, this year give yourself the gift of each other. Be a sport and laugh at the guys out to impress on the BU Beach who are walking on their hands, tossing the disk and playing tackle football. Then, reward them for so blatantly trying to get your attention by saying something like, “I enjoyed viewing your boxer-briefs very much; maybe you should come over later so you can see my underwear.”

As life is just a big set of Dutch doors, this works both ways. If that cute girl in your COM 201 class keeps accidentally “dropping” her pen just to show you how cute her ass is, write a big 10 on a piece of paper and hold it up. Then, since she showed the initiative, take some of your own and stroll up to her breaking out one of the aforementioned pick up lines. Just tell her the Bastard Columnist sent you.

Be bold, be aggressive, and show everyone why you spent countless hours whippin’ your sorry booty from sagging to bragging at the Case Center all winter long. No one can take each other for granted now, because in the “real world,” the options and chances for mating decrease an astronomical 83 percent.

Yes, I am asking for all of us to be forward, but life is just too damn short to be spent dissing one another in our attempts for companionship. All I seem to hear from everyone is, “damn, there are no real men on this campus,” and “man, you would think I could get a piece of ass with a student body composed of 70 percent women.”

Do you hear that? That’s opportunity knocking, and this spring she comes bearing a partner for you to frolic about with naked in a corn field. Open the door, let her in, use her to help you find someone to use you sexually.

Ladies, drop the denominator and accentuate your numerators for all to see. Guys, shave, hit the showers and study the wardrobe of Brad Pitt in “Fight Club” closely. If we all do our best to beautify and giddy ourselves up real nice, BU can turn into the sexual promiseland we all hoped for.

Leave the liquor and the beer goggles at the door. Let the arousing effects of spring and the eye candy served up by the ladies give you a sweet tooth and heart ache. For alas, as my good (single) friend Tony D. Once said, “As winter thaws into a leafy green, be optimistic for your spring love scene. If you’re sad with the script to your play, look to Thursdays, for solutions, by Jay Borbet …”

[ Jason Borbet, a junior in the School for the Arts, is anxiously awaiting some nice weather and the return of knee highs. ]

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