The Best Part of College: Drinking Vs. Sex

There are few things finer in life than a good buzz or a good lay. Unfortunately, Lilly and I can never agree on which is the finest. It is for this reason that we have decided to wage a debate on the subject. I’ll be in my buddy, “Al Coehall’s” corner while Lilly will be arguing for the mistress of premarital fornication (for all you Freshman and Sci-Fi fans out there, that means “having sex”). I’ll insist that the lovely Lilly start with her first point:

 

 Lilly: You don’t puke from “too much” sex.

            I really don’t know how there can be such a thing as “too much” sex, but I hear it’s possible for some people. Sure, maybe a headache in the morning from inane pillow talk, but unless something has gone terribly awry during the night (accidental knee to balls or stomach), no worries.

 

            Yep, Herpes, Gonorrhea, and Syphilis are the gifts that keep on giving and start giving right now!!! Whereas, the cumulative downside from my best friend “Al Coehall” doesn’t happen until you’re so old and your balls or boobs are hanging so low that the only thing that you want to do is get hammered one last time to end it all anyway. By the way, having calloused sores all over your business is not going to help you in any future endeavors, sexual or otherwise.  

 

            Fucking during the day is awesome…ism. Quickies, long stretches between class, and random hookups in semi-public areas are definitely better than drinking out of a flask on your way to the library. The title of “the drunk kid” isn’t as admirable a namesake as being known as someone who gets laid all the time.

 

            If you’re not careful when you have sex you could be in charge of another human for the rest of your life, and it’s hard to get drunk or have sex when you’re wearing a baby carrier. However, you and “Al” can party it up all night and conception will never occur, because even on the nights it really feels like “Al’s” fucking you, he always pulls out.

 

            Anytime someone opens up a conversation with “So we started pre-gaming at about 9, and I drank [list of drinks], then went to a party and drank [longer list of drinks], and then I was so wasted I think I broke something. Oh, and I killed a delivery boy,” I generally nod off pretty quick. Beginning a story with “So this chick, she’s a contortionist…” perks my attention immediately.

 

            I gotta tell you, the other day I laid in bed all Sunday, drank a bunch of water, took a hot shower and 800mg of Ibuprofen… and it didn’t change the fact that I had sex with a girl that eerily resembled Chris Griffin the night before (C’mon, “Al”!!!). However, if I have a night that is worthy of having a George Thorogood song written about it, I will always feel better in a few days or the next time me and “Al” hang out. Plus, very rarely do your friends still make fun of you two years after a terrible hangover, but you pick up one girl from the Special Olympics and they never let you forget it.

 

            But you can fantasize and relieve yourself as much as you’d like without a girl there. Watching a video of people drinking doesn’t satisfy any craving; drinking water and thinking really hard that it’s actually booze won’t get me inebriated. A little “me time” and a locked door, however, can repress desires for the time being.

 

So whatever, Johnny, you go drink with your boys; I’ll be the one taking home your hot female friends while you’re puking on the side of the bar. No, really, that sounds like just as much fun. I’m really jealous.