Dear Flippy,

My girlfriend and I have been together for a long time (almost two months!) and we want to spice things up. Suddenly, getting wasted and making out against unfurnished basement walls just isn’t doing it for us anymore.  

One day, as I was moping around the Shepard basement, inspiration struck when I saw the Shepard egg chairs. The white paint gleamed under the fluorescent lighting and the ruby red cushions only vaguely reeked of despair and Cheetos. They looked like the perfect place for protected promiscuity.

But I don’t need to be a civil engineering major to realize that the spinning ivory orbs weren’t designed to be vehicular Viagra. I tried to ask some McCormick students help me transform them into the optimal sex swing, but they weirdly stopped talking to me altogether.

So I’ve come to you, Flippy, in hopes that you can help me resolve my tapping-ass troubles. How do I save my relationship?

Desperately,

Not-Getting-Laid Neville

Dear Neville,

Even though you’re a Communications major, don’t let those McCormick elitists gaslightgatekeepgirlboss engineering. When desperate times call for desperate measures, we can all become McCormick monarchs.

I think our architectural forefathers had a hunch Northwestern would be populated by horny teens, so you’re closer to your non-vanilla vision than you think. All you need is a couple extra straps (courtesy of Pitney Bowes) and a plastic knife from the dining hall to carve out a hole for the head. If you’re feeling extra edgy, feel free to grab a Sharpie and write “FOR SEX GODS ONLY” on the outside..

Once you perfect your craft, I highly recommend monetizing it. I can see this sex swing business becoming the next BrewBike.

Go get on that grind,

Flippy