Jenna B. Still Lives and Fellates, Happily Ever After Cornell
Jenna Bromberg, pondering new euphemisms in her new place of residence.
Click through to find out how the banging goes in NYC, who this damned Cowboy is, and whether his linguistics are quite as cunning as he claims.
CornellWatch: I saw you wrote a guide to having good sex in hotels on HotelChatter. Have you been sex writing/blogging at all since you ended your run with the Daily Sun?
Jenna: Yes! But nothing public — or at least, nothing with my name attached to it yet. There may or may not be a blog floating around out there with all the snippets that never made it into the column or occurred after the column ended, but it’s written completely anonymously. I figure as long as I’m 21, I might as well record all this shit before I turn into an old bag of wrinkles and stop getting laid altogether, which could be in the next year or so judging by the amount of time I spend tanning.
Speaking of getting laid, we heard from IvyGate that you wrote in to Savage Love about how guys viewed you as a trophy conquest instead of a prospective girlfriend. Has that trend continued in New York?
NO! Thank GOD. Life on the dude-front has been largely back to the pre-column days. Leaving the campus allowed me to leave behind all the bullshit that came along with being a campus character, like the interrogations and the dudes who just wanted to sleep with the sex columnist. I have my last name and a little bit of my dignity back, which is all I can ask for.
But are you still getting some play-play?
Significantly less, but whatever. I think I get a little bit more respect when people aren’t aware of the goings-on between my legs. Also, it’s nice to be able to look back on your college days and talk about how crazy they were — but once you’re out in the real world, you have to give some thought to growing up. Did I really just say that? Jesus.
You’re talking a lot about growing up. Have you found anyone to grow up/old with?
I may be growing soft three months out of college, but let’s be real for two seconds… I havent changed much, and the dating pool has gotten larger and, if you can believe it, older, and even a bit dorkier than it was at Cornell. So, short answer? No. Long answer: nnnooooo.
Longer answer: Boooringgg.
I wish I could be like, I’m engaged, suckas!!! To the Cunnilingus Cowboy!
The mysterious Cunnilingus Cowboy, in close quarters with Ms. Bromberg.
I won’t name names, but he was — and still is — a very close friend of mine. And let the record reflect that I do not give shitty head.
The record currently reflects a dismal 5.75 out of 10. Where do you rank yourself?
8. I don’t know, Evan, where would you rank me?
5.75 of course… You know I don’t never change my stance once I’ve taken a position. Right back atcha: where do you rank his taco-tonguing?
I just giggled like a little girl at the phrase taco-tonguing, so clearly my points about growing up and shit hold no truth.
Imitation is the sincerest flattery?
Something like that. But anyway he gets a zero. Fail.
Epic fail, perhaps? Harsh. Let’s talk about your time as Sun sex columnist extraordinaire. Now that you were ranked in the top 6 of the UWIRE 100 and won a Sex-Positive Journalism award, there’s big shoes to fill. What are you thoughts about Liana Mancini, our new “Shocker”?
Full disclosure: I’ve worked with Liana for the last couple of years on the Vagina Monologues, so I know she won’t take any shit from anyone and will command the respect that any sex-positive woman deserves. I can see that she’s going to be taking the column in a different direction than I did, and I give her major props for making the column inclusive in ways that I never did — I know she’s frank, and I know she’s a fierce bitch… and as far as I’m concerned, the column is in good hands. As long as she doesn’t wake up one day and decide to go all Carrie Bradshaw on us (SO unlikely), I think she’s going to kick some ass.
Is there anything wrong with Carrie Bradshaw besides the fact that she could NEVER NEVER NEVER afford that apartment and that her character has those horrible “typity-type-type bad-pun-bad-pun-ban-pun, question mark?” endings?
Well, she didn’t maintain her highlights, so she always had dark roots, for one thing. And really, she never talked about sex except for that one time the politician tried to piss on her and she wrote about how weird and awkward he was for having a fetish. And she was fickle and flaky and always asked questions at the beginning of each column and never really answered them. Oh, and by the way: She wasn’t real. And if she was real, I guess I would fault her editor for letting her introduce every column with “I couldn’t help but wonder…”
So we’re agreed: Carrie’s writing style needs to die a fiery death. Enough of flawed women… Describe your ideal man. And your sexytime with him.
Oh shit. [Long pause.] I’d like a taller-than-5′8″ writerly type with an affinity for good music, good books and a fucking decent sense of humor. In bed, he’s gotta be in charge. In life, not so much.
Okay then, fill in the blanks: My ideal guy will buy me a _____ at the bar, then we’ll go home and eat _____ in a manner reminiscent of _____ and I’ll _____ his _____. Then he’ll put me in the _____ position and he’ll fuck me _____.
My ideal guy will buy me a DOUBLE VODKA SODA WITH 2 LIMES at the bar, then we’ll go home and eat CHOCO-COVERED STRAWBERRIES in a manner reminiscent of GOSSIP GIRL and I’ll TURN OFF his iPHONE.
Then???
I am not answering the second part. I’m not going to give up ALL of it.
Fair enough. Any new euphemisms for the penis? Wrinklebeast, peen, etc. slay us, but we want some new ones.
If we want to keep it seasonal, I’ve been using Summer Sausage a lot lately. Kicking it old school with weiner, also… tubesteak. I guess I’ve been on a meat kick.
Sadface? Kissyface?
I am very happy, actually. It sucked leaving Cornell, but things are pretty baller these days. I’m doing what I want to be doing (writing), going out all the time, and living in the big bad city. Shit’s good. There is, indeed, life after being a big slut at Cornell.
Can’t get enough of Jenna? Check out her personal Web site or stalk her Tumblelog!
