My Dearest Flippy,

I was getting ready for a steamy night, putting on my purple lingerie and dollar store wildcat claws and lighting the incense I found in the hidden back closet at Campus Gear.

Suddenly, over the din of my computer blasting the Northwestern Alma Mater, I heard a knock at my door.

My boyfriend strutted in wearing nothing but a purple foam finger and Willie the Wildcat jersey. Needless to say, I was instantly turned on.

But then, mid-coitus, as the moon hit its zenith, my boyfriend climaxed and howled with the energy of three Joe Spivaks, “U Rah Rah!” He proceeded to chug three glasses of spoiled juice and rattle off the stats of every NU woman’s lacrosse game ever played before falling into a deep slumber.

At first, I didn’t mind, since I’m tremendously committed to school spirit. But when I found out everyone on my floor heard him too, I decided to reach out to you.

Flippy, you are the ultimate artificial intelligence, and there’s no one I’d rather invite to comment on my sex life. Any advice?

Yours truly,

President of the School Spirit Sex Club

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Dear President of the School Spirit Sex Club,

You brought this on yourself, and there’s no way out now.

If the screaming really gets annoying, however, try out the all-new NU ball gag (it’s shaped like Willie’s head). The campus store recently sent out an ad for them and is selling them at a 25% discount.

Keep doing you, you’re purple through and through.

Love,

Flippy