7 Things Every Iowa Student Thinks About During Sex
The month of love has come to an end, but like the weather, horny Hawkeyes are heating up and looking to get laid. The Black Sheep has conducted a very legitimate*, comprehensive**, peer***-reviewed study, from which we have compiled a definitive list of Iowan turn-ons and mid-coital musings:
7.) “I hope I don’t get a parking ticket.”
Iowa City parking meters are Satan incarnates, especially those “1-hour-only” motherfuckers. But plan your booty call between the hours of 6 p.m. and 2 a.m. and you’ll get off scot-free.
6.) “Does she like my Bruce Harreld tramp stamp?”
If you have faced Harreld-Tattoo-Sex-Anxiety (HTSA), you are not alone. Millions of young Iowans suffer from HTSA every year. Call 1-800-I-L-Y-B-R-U-C-E for free advice and back rubs.
5.) The IMU Parking Ramp:
So tight…so satisfying when you turn a corner and find a parking spot and…you can slip right in…okay that’s enough, go take a cold shower.
4.) “This is fine, but I’d rather be playing corn hole in Hubbard Park.”
Sure, boning is great, but honestly sometimes you’d rather have some wholesome, midwestern, beanbag-throwing fun. Ope! Missed the hole again, gosh dang it!
3.) “Is he interested in Panch play?”
Forget butt stuff, every Iowa student knows there’s nothing kinkier than introducing a couple of warm Pancheros flour tortillas into the bedroom. Tex-Mex sex? ¡Sí, por favor!
2.) Oasis Hummus:
Face it, nothing puts you in the fornicatin’ mood quite like a pint of creamy, luscious chickpea spread. And don’t get us STARTED on baba ganoush. *eggplant emoji; squirt emoji*
1.) The Voxman Music Building:
If Voxman fantasies have helped you get it up once or twice, we don’t blame ya. Those curves, those edges, those perfect imperfections…it’s basically architectural porn.
These seven thoughts are scientifically* proven to get any Hawkeye moister than the English Philosophy Building. Now, get off the internet you piece of millennial garbage, and have some intercourse!
*Nope **We interviewed three randos ***The author’s roommate
WATCH: We made Malort cupcakes. They are bad.