If it feels like the weight of the upcoming fall semester is bearing down on you, breathe deep, my non-graduating friends. That MySlice shopping cart is filled to the brim with classes you can’t get into or don’t even need to take. And while good intentions are sweet, that 8 a.m. yoga class will be dropped by September.

What could possibly take the stress away?

Sex, duh.

Whether you’re an on-the-ball rising senior with credits to wile away, a sophomore that sucks with girls or a desperado junior who just needs to get laid, let out a sigh of relief. Sure, schedules are a pain in the elbow, but some classes have serious lay potential.

Ready, set, groan — you need to take MAT 121: “Probability and Statistics for the Liberal Arts I.” Statistics doesn’t sound sexy, but it’s the color-by-numbers equivalent of EAR: “Anything-under-200-level.”

Many a smart, cute girl operates on the premise, “where there’s a rock, there’s going to be a jock.” The same thought process applies to “where there’s a simple subtraction sum, there’s going to be a vaguely attractive babe in the back row of Heroy Auditorium needing a study partner.”

There’s nothing sexier than exploding volcano metaphors or calculating the probability of studying on someone’s bed ending in at least a blowjob.

Before going all Freddy Flintstone and blowing your load over prehistoric rocks, enroll in CFS 388: “Human Sexuality.” If the Greek, 5-foot-10, sex-on-legs, auburn-haired teaching assistant doesn’t induce instant enrollment anxiety, then you need this class more than most 19-year-old boys.

Plus, making eye contact during an anal-sexing stick-figure presentation in an afternoon recitation beats 50 minutes of “I think, therefore I exist” philosophical quandaries any day.

If a traditional classroom setup doesn’t suit your wet and wild mating style, dive into PED 217: “Lifeguarding.” And you, hot girl over there, don’t need to be the one getting saved. Turn gender stereotypes on their head and go save that strapping young lad thrashing in the middle of Archbold Gymnasium’s swimming pool. Just don’t be so hot that you literally take his breath away performing CPR.

If sweating is as damp as you’d like to get, swing into DTS 228: “Basic Social Ballroom Dance.” Try naming any other classes in which resting your hand in the small of a girl’s back and holding her close enough to feel her boobs against your chest earns class participation points.

While not advocating for ballroom-induced unplanned pregnancies, exploit biology: Cute babies melt ovaries and frosty professors’ hearts in equal measure.

If you get a kid woven into the deep and meaningful narrative of any video produced for a communications class, there’s a happy ending for everyone. You get an A from the professor because kids are cute, and you get puppy-eyed by the sucker in the corner who thinks you’ve got stay-at-home-dad potential while she’s off gallivanting up the corporate ladder.

Not everyone’s a born sex-slayer, so if liquid courage takes you from love-loser to Lothario, HPM 422: “Wine and Beer Appreciation” was made for you.

Yes, you have to be 21, and you might need to learn what a grape is, but bottoms up, kids, it’s time to waft your way onto someone’s radar with some well-placed vino jargon. Plus, it’s on a Wednesday — a cool precursor to Flip Night.

All sex considered, don’t place getting your hole penetrated above graduating on time. It will cost you good money that could be better spent on buying condoms.

Iona Holloway is a senior magazine journalism and psychology major. If you aren’t single, adhere to the boring relationship stereotype and ignore this column. Email her at [email protected], visit her at www.ionaholloway.com and follow her on Twitter at @ionaholloway.

Published on April 9, 2013 at 11:25 pm