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 Photo via IDS
A weekly round-up of our own favorite sex-related musings on the web:
The best of this week's blogs by the bloggers who blog them. Highlighting the top 3 posts as chosen by Sugasm participants. Want in Sugasm #134? Submit a link to your best post of the week using this form. Participants, repost the link list within a week and you're all set. This Week's Picks Catalina loves "Better Sex Through Yoga" Reality Check: Dealing With Assholes Mr. Sugasm Himself Editor's Choice See also: Fleshbot's Sex Blog Roundup each Tuesday and Friday.
It was inevitable, wasn't it? So inevitable, I am not even surprised. I
was startled by the advent of podcasts. I said "pod...casts? How do
you...cast? A pod?" and I blinked a lot and then took my Geritol. But
like millions of people all around this great big world of ours, I
caught on (eventually) and became enamored of the great variety of
entertaining, educational, edutaining content out there, by
professionals and amateurs alike. Feed free, into your earholes! Or
"podholes," as I like to call them.
Then, YouTube rose up like a beast from the deeps, and so too did video podcasts (vodcasts?) and those made me suspicious. They required lots of bandwidth or special equipment like fancy new iPods and you had to actually focus your attention on them, and I've never quite embraced the video podcast the way I think I was supposed to. Talking heads do not thrill me the way they should. But a couple of amateurs have figured out a way to thrill their viewers, to keep their wandering, MTV-style attention span, and to actively encourage embracing, in all its forms, and that's by being naked a lot, and doing naked things. On a video podcast! That they distribute all over the Internet! Doing a podcast always seemed a little nervy, because you're putting yourself out there, right? A video podcast, even more so. A naked podcast? That's--well, that's pretty naked. more at ElasticWaist.com>>
 Photo via iStock (NOT a pic of Colin and then-girlfriend)
This week is "Colin Week," in honor of our Yale intern, Colin Adamo, leaving the nest for the summer. Every day we've posted one of his own ruminations on sex and relationships. Today, his last day, he tries to figure out what a "real date" is, and in the process makes us wish we knew guys half as cool when we were in school: Probably the most intimate meal I've ever had with a girl was in the morning, curled up in a big chair feeding cereal to each other. It was her favorite flavor by a generic brand and we were both still sandy-eyed and dressed in the comfiest clothing we owned. We poured a second bowl and scooched closer and smiled at each other over our barely-coherent early-morning conversation. This would never, by itself, be considered a "real date." But why should that be? I felt just as good in that moment as I have in the fanciest of restaurants or sipping the best bottles of wine I could afford (although this must be taken with a grain of salt as I'm a part-time employed full-time college student), if not better. Why is it that the stuffy-dinner-for-two trope sets the boundaries on what we consider a "real date"? I've been playing with this idea ever since one girl told me we weren't going to kiss again until we went on "a real date," a playful and bubbly way to show that she was eager to both see me and kiss me again. She just needed to be shown that she was important. All sounds great. But what tripped me up were her words, "a real date." There must have been some miscommunication somewhere. I thought our first date had been one of the most whimsical date-concoctions I had ever created:
 The whole point of writing a sex manual is to spread the love, as it were. Well, we'd like to spread it a little thicker, which is why we're holding the "SEX: How to Do Everything" Haiku Contest. Send us a haiku about a sex manual, sex manuals in general, or our most recent sex manual, SEX, and you could win one of five free copies of our beautiful, golden hardcover yourself. So get your creative juices flowing and start counting syllables! Just be sure to review our contest terms and conditions first:
A question from a Shine reader this week: Could it be possible for me to get pregnant if I am on the pill? I'm on Ortho Tri-Cylcen Lo. My sisters were on the pill and they got pregnant! My mom was on the pill and she got pregnant! Could there be a chance that I will get pregnant, also? It's scary to feel like you can't trust your birth control method. Using the pill perfectly--every day, no skipping, no missing--is almost superhuman, and very few of us never get it wrong. But even if you are one of those wonder women, the pill is 97% effective. That means that 3 out of 100 perfect users gets pregnant each year (shiver). One way to make this number even smaller is "dual method use," or using a second method (generally condoms or a diaphragm) with your first. There's no good data on how effective this is, but I've been a gyno for 10 years, and I've never had a patient get pregnant while consistently using pills and condoms. The other benefit, of course, is fantastic STD protection...lots of bang for your buck during your bang, so to speak. Using two methods of birth control certainly isn't easy. You may feel that sticking to one method is tough enough. And if you're using your pill/ring/patch very consistently, you may not feel as motivated to slap a condom on him as well. But consider dual method use the "sexual self-protection" you deserve, both for your body and your peace of mind. Do any of you use condoms with your pill/patch/ring all the time?
 This week is "Colin Week," in honor of our Yale intern Colin Adamo leaving the nest for the summer. Every day we'll post one of his own ruminations on sex and relationships. Today, he takes issue with Psychology Today's answer to our question, "Why is virginity still defined strictly in terms of penile penetration?": The Psychology Today blog's over-simplified dismissal of Em & Lo's virginity question just didn't sit well with me, especially in the wake of dealing with the touchy topic in my own life not too long ago. No, I wasn't awkwardly fumbling through my first sexual encounter myself. In fact, nobody was: that was the problem. One of my best friends in the world, let's call her Hannah, would be a virgin by Psychology Today's (and the rest of our society's) standards. Despite the fact that she's slept with nearly as many women as I have and, as she's put it, "given a ton of blow jobs," she hasn't had the chance to partake in the "traditional" male-on-female penetrative sex act. Hannah's been really frustrated recently by the fact that she'll be receiving her degree while still holding onto her V-Card, a feat that is rarely achieved by anyone these days. But it's totally unintentional. She hasn't spent her four years at college underground or buried behind a wall of books in the library. Her daddy never dragged her to a Purity Ball where he swore to protect her hymen. She's actually rather sexually active, and has been for quite some time. But because she hasn't had intercourse with a boy yet, society still brands her as a virgin--a total misnomer...
 Very rarely are other people's dreams interesting...except when they're about sex. Dream analyst Lauri Loewenberg tackles the case of the half-naked cowgirl who showed up in Jenny's boyfriend's nocturnal visions. Could his biological clock be ticking or does he just think Jenny's vajayjay is hot? Find out after the jump (right after you send us your own dreams!): I'm 30, my boyfriend is 47. I would like you to analyze my boyfriend's sexual dream, because I'd like to get to know him better and get a deeper look into his psyche. Here's how his dream went: We were on a ranch, the fields were bright green. Even though the trees were old, everything looked so plush, green and fresh. I was sitting on a wooden log with no panties and a mini skirt with my legs crossed. I was wearing a cowboy hat. He was wearing a cowboy hat too, a different one. He was stroking a guitar (which he does not know how to play in real life), singing in a southern twang, serenading me with the words: "Kiss an angel in the morning, Love her like the devil when she comes home"...all the while looking up my skirt. And then I woke him up with a phone call. Thank you, Jenny
 This week is "Colin Week," in honor of our Yale intern Colin Adamo leaving the nest for the summer. Every day we'll post one of his own ruminations on sex and relationships. Today he tells us about his school's Last Chance Dance: Last week was Senior Week at Yale: classes end, we have a week to study called Reading Week, we have a week of exams, there is a week where nothing is happening called Dead Week, and then a week of senior events and commencement called Senior Week--the university allows them a drug-tripping, fancily catered, do-nothing week that leaves a great taste in their mouths as they graduate in hopes of them remembering to donate when their big pay checks finally start rolling in somewhere down the line.
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![[Body By Glamour ad]](http://dailybedpost.com/ads/bbg-fall-275x225.gif)
 
Em & Lo, more formally known as Emma Taylor and Lorelei Sharkey, are
the self-proclaimed Emily Posts of the modern bedroom.
Dr. Kate is an OB/GYN at one of the largest teaching hospitals in New
York City.
Check out Daily Bedpost on MySpace.com.
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