My boyfriend of two years is graduating and moving to Denver in May. He suggested we take some time off to find ourselves until I graduate — which is a year from now. Is this secret guy code for him to screw around with Denver girls, but also have me on the side when he wants to be in Boulder? It doesn’t sound good to me.
—Man moving on
Supersize your senior year:
All this speculation depends on what type of bloke you’re boning, young lady. Without knowing the lad, I can’t judge whether his intentions are malicious or true. Is he trustworthy and honest? Or will this division drive you to destroy your final year of college in a haze of anxiety and doubt?
Don’t do that. That’s your main concern. There’s no use in wasting youth wondering what damsels’ drawers he’s in — your senior year is one last liver dust-up until jointing the Land of Adults. (For some, anyhow.)
It’s time to go out and play with those friends you’ll never see again. It’s time to suck on that cute bartender’s lips. It’s time to run topless down Pearl Street with a pumpkin on your head. It’s time to test out a gangbang. It’s a time to take a dump on a lawn after you get kicked out of a party for dry-humping a teddy bear. It’s time to get a dumb tattoo. It’s time to take your pants off and spray paint your genitals. It’s time to magna cum loud.
Then in the second week of classes, go explore Boulder.
Alas, not all men are malicious in intent. He’s probably starting his career and is allowing himself time to settle into being adult. Maybe he’s selflessly offering you an opportunity to date other dudes, as he probably won’t be able to focus on you fully. Maybe he really does just want you to find yourselves separately, before you get sucked into a forever together life.
Or, maybe he wants to lather in lube and stick it to all that’s one Mile High.
Whatever the case, it’s a healthy move. Set boundaries if you don’t want his LoDo-tainted junk in your pristine Boulder trunk.
Now go reign queen senior year. You’re on top, so ride it real — it’s a unique year that you’ll never be able to recreate.
In the meantime, sign up for Boner of the Month Club, invest in a comfy couch and dust off those dildos.
I just got this pickup line Saturday night at the bar: “I must be hunting treasure because I’m digging your chest.” It didn’t bother me, I think he was just being funny. I just wanted to share because it’s the most absurd thing I’ve ever heard. Thought you might laugh.
—Shits and giggles
You should’ve dipped eye-level with his crotch and said, “Hi, I’d like one Lit’l Smokie, two dry-roasted peanuts and a shaved taint, please.”
Oh, pick-up lines. They’re flattering, degrading and humorous all at once. Your mom’s mom’s mom’s mom has been slinging these lines as ice breakers for decades. (Like when Great Grandma to the Third Power said to Sexy Dandy in Morning Dress: Sir, I seek a chimney sweep and thine brush is spreading warmth in my bloomers.)
As long as there’s no groping involved, pick-up lines are typically harmless. Plus, who doesn’t like to feel like a sexy motherfucker?
Thanks for sharing, pal. I did chuckle.
And stop hitting on me, I’m well aware of these breathtaking jugs.