Briar Rose, Undergrad Rag Guest Writer



Briar Rose is: A sophomore at Sarah Lawrence.

Majors in: Women’s Studies with a self-created minor of Sexual Liberation

Area of Expertise: Telling “The Man” where to stick it, literally and figuratively.

You can contact Briar by: You won’t. You can’t handle Briar.

According to studies from 1950, women expect sexual encounters to be full of love and tenderness and respect.

Now, with the exception of intentionally creating a child with someone you actually care for, I want every man reading this to pay close attention:

IT’S NOT 1950 ANYMORE!

Do you caress your dick for hours surrounded by candles like Steve Carell in “The 40 Year Old Virgin?” Of course not (and if you live in a dorm, that’s going to make for an awkward conversation if your roommate walks in).

Instead you go to pornhub.com or redtube.com or whatever free site you aren’t bored of yet and you go to town watching whores get railed while you shoot loads into the socks your mom just washed for you.

So why is it when you get a real live girl in bed, everything is so fucking boring?

Here’s a shocker, women watch porn too. And not the Fabio bullshit we are getting from you. Now I’m not saying you should put your hands around the neck of some random woman you picked up at a bar, but seriously, how many hints do women need to drop before men get that we like it rough, dirty, and loud?

Now you may scoff, and say I am a rare breed of woman. I assure you this is not the case. My roommates and I have devised a rating system. It’s quite simple really. Just clap your hands as hard as you can. Now continue clapping that hard for, oh say, at least 20 minutes. If it doesn’t sound like that, it’s no good. A simple, yet effective scientific measurement.

Of course, while in the act, it’s best not to ask us things, like “want to change position?” First of all, you make us lose focus, and second off all, it makes you less aggressive. Pick us up, flip us over, and pretend you are actually going to the gym for a practical reason.

Its 2011, so fuck like the world is going to end in a year – pull some hair, slap some ass, and maybe, just maybe, the world will be a little less bitchy and a whole lot less sexually frustrated.