“I’m Right. You’re Wrong.” is an advice column especially designed to help University at Buffalo students. So if you have no one else to turn to (and I mean absolutely no one) drop off your question in our personals mailbox or email us at askgeneration@gmail.com. If you’re lucky, your question just might show up in the next issue.
Q: I have never had an orgasm during sex. And it’s not like it’s a new concept to my body. I get close, but the climax never actually hits. I’m worried that it frustrates my boyfriend, and I really do want to enjoy the euphoria...Is there something wrong with me? Or something I can do about it?
TS: There is definitely not anything wrong with you. In fact, only 30 percent of women achieve orgasm solely through the penis entering the vagina and about 50 to 75 percent absolutely need clitoral stimulation to have the Big O. You know what that means? Get to know that little man in the boat—or whatever you endearingly call the clitoris. You are the only one who truly knows what gets you off. Men will never figure that out unless they are explicitly told how fast or slow, hard or soft to go, where to lick, and what to touch.
Worrying about your boyfriend may also be part of the problem. If your sexual escapades are spent obsessing over whether he’s frustrated, how can you concentrate on what you need in the sack? So, my friend, take much-needed time to yourself, find out specifically how to reach climax, and then share it with your beau. He’ll be happy to help you get there.
AB: The best orgasm I ever had was at age fifteen, solo, while showering and listening to Black Flag’s “Damage.” I’m not sure if that is actually advice or if I am just trying to come out of the closet.
Q: What do Generation editors do on weekends? Want to hang out?
TS: We read words, write words, and edit words until the wee hours of the night. Friday night may or may not involving running the fuck out of here in search of beer. Saturdays—well, they’re shot for us. We’re here all day doing work. Hope you enjoy reading what equates to the demise of Saturday afternoon hangover recovery. And no.
AB: We’re boating enthusiasts. We ride boats. And no.
TS: Oh, we also scavenge for food and coffee. It’s like a damn flock of vultures in here. I think someone got stabbed with a fork once.
Q: I went to my professor’s office hours the other day and while I was there, he made a very suggestive comment to me. I laughed it off, but it made me very uncomfortable. Should I report it?
TS: Yes. Any behavior of a professor, or anyone for that matter, that makes you uncomfortable crosses the line. Unless he’s one of those sexy, brooding intellectual types—then damn girl, get on that!
AB: Hex naw. Meet with him again, roll tape, and then slack off all semester. When he threatens to fail you, you’ll have perfect blackmail material. Or just fuck him already. I don’t know about you, but I like sex, a lot.
Q: Does leaving a laptop on overnight use up a lot of electricity? I’m trying to cut down on my bills.
TS: No. It costs $40 a year to leave that bad boy on 24/7, 365 according to the national average cost of electricity. If $40 is a lot over the span of a year, uh, turn it off.
AB: No. Electric Companies don’t charge people past 9 p.m. This is why your dad always fell asleep with TBS on at 11 watching Cool Runnings on Friday nights. He is not an alcoholic with an affinity towards John Candy and the Disneyfication of Jamaica, but really, he’s just sticking it to the man. God, this is a dumb question.
Q: What’s the best way to stay awake during a boring class?
TS: I am really the worst person to answer this. Honestly, in high school, teachers used to throw things at me, slap my desk with rulers to wake me up, and one even called home to ask if I had narcolepsy. Dead serious. I still sleep in class, it’s really a problem. You should see my notes. They start out coherent but end up as scribbles followed by a puddle of drool. So sorry, no advice here.
AB: My freshman year, I would find the hottest girl in the class and sit five rows behind her. I would then stare at her until I got a boner and then would try to fight it off. Not actually fight it, like, with my hands, but I would just make it go away. I then went back into boner production and continued the cycle for fifty minutes. Sure, it tires you out, but it’ll keep you going for a while. The post-class masturbation session in the Lockwood fourth floor bathrooms will put you right to sleep, though.
Q: How come UB likes to brag about being a high-tech campus, yet there is no wireless Internet in Knox? Are the rooms in there not big enough for such a basic feature?
TS: Maybe because this place is built like an impenetrable fortress, impassible even digitally. Fort Knox II is what it should be called. Thanks for pointing out about UB tooting its own horn, though. They love that.
AB: That reminds me of an old joke, actually. Knox, Knox? Who’s there? No wireless Internet. It stops right there actually. Not much of a joke. Sorry.
