March 8, 2001


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Like many young girls, I read YM magazine for one section — “Say Anything.” For those of you who are not avid readers of young women’s magazines, “Say Anything” is a section containing stories of readers most embarrassing moments — a tampon falling out in the middle of a cheerleading tournament, a parent interrupting indiscreet acts, difficulty finding male genitalia in the dark, and things like that. YM then rates each of the stories by the degree of their embarrassment. In honor of how much fun it is to laugh at other people’s embarrassment (and how much we love our experts), here are some sticky situations the FOUR-nicationers have gotten themselves into.

Ahead of Time

T.J. Cox was on a date in New York City last summer, upon which he discovered his date’s somewhat peculiar distaste for pre-ejaculation. Not that a dislike for this preview is entirely uncommon; rather, it was her response that grabbed his attention.

“Bad penis, bad penis, stop dripping, you!,” she said as she pointed her finger, scolding Cox’s member. Cox admitted that this completely freaked him out.

“What the hell are you doing?,” he asked her. When she explained her distaste for pre-ejaculation, he replied that his penis has a mind of his own. “That’s exactly why I told it to stop dripping and not you,” she retorted. Needless to say, that was the first and last conversation Cox’s penis has ever had.

Embarrassment factor: ****

Down … town?

Britney was on the metro returning from a trip to the zoo with her boyfriend. Perhaps they were instigated by the primal instincts in the monkey cages or a humping pair of giraffes, but they couldn’t keep their hands off each other. They managed to contain themselves by deciding that when all of the other people left their train car, they would take full advantage of the situation, and that’s just what they did.

As soon as the doors closed when the last set of people left the car, clothes and limbs were flying everywhere. “We were so into it,” she said, ” that we didn’t even notice we had pulled up at the next stop where several people had been waiting to get on our car. I’m not sure how much they saw, but it was enough to make them drop their jaws and run off to the next car. We were so embarrassed we got off at the next stop and changed trains.”

Embarrassment factor: ***

Caught Red-Handed (nowhere near the bathroom floor)

At some point last year, during what G. Killian describes as another “bunny stage,” G. and Britney decided to try something a little kinky. They popped in a porno (a good one) and “proceeded to launch into some amazing sex. Bed, chair, floor, whatever.”

Here’s where it gets good. Britney’s absentee roommate was seeing G.’s best friend, who decided to stop in and say hello. Hearing sounds outside the door, G. and Britney quieted down until the sounds stopped, signifying that the person had left, at which time they “got back to business.”

The next day, G. was talking to his friend, who said, “Man, I dunno what was going on in there, but all I could hear was a bunch of sex sounds, and like a video going .. really crazy sex, man.” Fortunately, G.’s friend quickly realized that the sounds were not coming from the girl he was there to visit. “I listened for a while,” he told G.,” well, I recognized your voice, buddy!” G. was caught red faced and red-handed.

Embarrassment factor: ***

Denise Cassaro

In a very peculiar location that is not to be disclosed in this column for reasons that you will soon realize, Catwoman found herself in the early (topless) stage of a hook-up that was progressing well, when suddenly someone opened the door. When Catwoman turned around from her woman on top orientation, she saw in her direct line of vision a certain prominent north campus residential life figure.

Catwoman tried without avail to conceal the fact that her shirt was lacking, and proceeded to shriek. When she looked up again, the figure she assumed to be Cassaro was gone. “My hook-up and I were a little shaken by the surprise (as I imagine was Denise Cassaro), so I put my shirt back on and, a little solemnly, we went to dinner.”

Embarrassment factor: ****

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