Valentine's Day comes in a close second to Christmas as the most commercialized holiday in America. And by commercialized, I mean “dreaded like a herpes infection spread by one Hallmark card at a time.” Window decorations let you know that it's just about a month before gift-giving obligations find guys standing awkwardly outside Victoria’s Secret.

Since I’m decidedly single this year, I'm starting to sympathize with the plight of pagans in December. Let’s face it: "sex blogger" doesn’t crack the top ten list of Best Person to Take Out to Dinner. Take into account my morbid obesity by Asian girl standards and I’m out of luck when it comes to finding a date for the holiday of love. Finding a Kama Sutra partner is a different story.

At the end of the night, it’s not who you break bread with that counts– it’s who you break off. And there are definitely ways to score ass even if you’re single. This year, I’m finding Valentine’s Day action a little hard to come by. My hookup of choice has made the poor decision of spending the holiday with his girlfriend. Girlfriend? Sounds pretty lame to me. But hey, I’ve got it fairly easy as the proud owner of two boobs and three orifices. If I spread ‘em, they will come … where they’ll come is another matter.

Valentine's Day comes in a close second to Christmas as the most commercialized holiday in America. And by commercialized, I mean “dreaded like a herpes infection spread by one Hallmark card at a time.” Window decorations let you know that it's just about a month before gift-giving obligations find guys standing awkwardly outside Victoria’s Secret.

Since I’m decidedly single this year, I'm starting to sympathize with the plight of pagans in December. Let’s face it: "sex blogger" doesn’t crack the top ten list of Best Person to Take Out to Dinner. Take into account my morbid obesity by Asian girl standards and I’m out of luck when it comes to finding a date for the holiday of love. Finding a Kama Sutra partner is a different story.

At the end of the night, it’s not who you break bread with that counts– it’s who you break off. And there are definitely ways to score ass even if you’re single. This year, I’m finding Valentine’s Day action a little hard to come by. My hookup of choice has made the poor decision of spending the holiday with his girlfriend. Girlfriend? Sounds pretty lame to me. But hey, I’ve got it fairly easy as the proud owner of two boobs and three orifices. If I spread ‘em, they will come … where they’ll come is another matter.

Valentine's Day comes in a close second to Christmas as the most commercialized holiday in America. And by commercialized, I mean “dreaded like a herpes infection spread by one Hallmark card at a time.” Window decorations let you know that it's just about a month before gift-giving obligations find guys standing awkwardly outside Victoria’s Secret.

Since I’m decidedly single this year, I'm starting to sympathize with the plight of pagans in December. Let’s face it: "sex blogger" doesn’t crack the top ten list of Best Person to Take Out to Dinner. Take into account my morbid obesity by Asian girl standards and I’m out of luck when it comes to finding a date for the holiday of love. Finding a Kama Sutra partner is a different story.

At the end of the night, it’s not who you break bread with that counts– it’s who you break off. And there are definitely ways to score ass even if you’re single. This year, I’m finding Valentine’s Day action a little hard to come by. My hookup of choice has made the poor decision of spending the holiday with his girlfriend. Girlfriend? Sounds pretty lame to me. But hey, I’ve got it fairly easy as the proud owner of two boobs and three orifices. If I spread ‘em, they will come … where they’ll come is another matter.

-Street

When CollegeHumor asked me to write a sex column, I wondered about the ramifications for my sex life. Then I realized that this would be the perfect vindictive measure against guys who offer unsatisfying romps in the sack.

I wanted to start off this baby with a bang – pun completely intended – but I’m surrounded by men committing major bedroom faux pas. So let’s examine my Saturday night and see what knowledge we can glean:

2:30am
Sam, Philadelphia fling, gives me a call. (Why of course I've been good since returning to Boston!)

3:00am
Will, Harvard dude I used to see, sends a questionable text message. (You mean you want to catch up at three in the morning after a month of silence? Me too!)

But the kicker comes when …