Hannah Krieg The Daily
It is almost certainly not good
heard guys on Reddit lay the best pipe, looking to find out.
Rachel Morgan The Daily
Our perceptions of safety and safe sex during the pandemic
meet me at the glory hole next to the 7-Eleven in Magnolia.
Katie Newman The Daily
looking for someone to call our local representatives with.
Natalie Rand The Daily
How to cope with the sounds from the other side of the wall
currently sharing a wall with someone who has loud, time-consuming sex. distract me. (;
Hannah Sheil The Daily
looking for someone who is hotter with their mask off than on.
Chamidae Ford The Daily
A personal essay on my journey to “losing it”
recently devirginized, looking to broaden my horizons.
Elise Peyton The Daily
‘Porn doesn’t get a pass'
if you’re still using PornHub to get off, swipe left.
Brooke Kaufman The Daily
Balancing non-romantic and romantic intimacy
new to the city, looking for friends … maybe more.
Zoe Luderman Miller The Daily
Tinder in the time of COVID-19
yes, I will swipe right solely based on your bio.
The Daily Cartoonists
i won’t send nudes but will send cartoons (;
Nuria Alina Chandra The Daily
Experts weigh in on the social and mental health risks of isolation for young adults
emotionally unavailable due to long-lasting isolation but open to chatting.
Iseabel Nance The Daily
Settling down since they can’t hook up
tested negative for COVID-19 … looking for something casual. Masks stay on during sex though.
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As you sit on Zoom for what seems like an endless number of hours each day, longing for the embrace of a friend or partner, you may find yourself wondering, “Will this pandemic permanently change me?” “Will my ability to form relationships be altered forever?” or “Will I find future physical contact too overwhelming?”
When I started writing this piece, I was still a virgin. Three weeks can really make a difference.
I lost my virginity nine days before I turned 22. If you would’ve told this to my high school self, I wouldn’t have believed you. Mostly because I never thought I'd ever be that old, but also because — how am I so old and still a virgin?
I am the type of person who finds their could-be soulmate almost every day. The skater boys practicing their kickflips in Red Square; the talkative clerk bagging my groceries at QFC; the fluffy-haired angel with glasses sitting in the fifth row in my Kane Hall lecture.
Last spring, Professor Chandan Reddy noticed a common theme popping up in his reading about COVID-19.
“When the pandemic was really setting in as a reality in the United States, by as early as March, I began seeing a number of newspaper articles and opinion columns, advice columns that were asking about how to have casual or anonymous sex ... duing the pandemic,” Reddy said. “Whether they could have casual sex, whether that would be risky.”
According to a 2013 study, “between 60[%] and 80[%] of North American college students have had some sort of hook-up experience,” a trend that was halted due to the COVID-19 pandemic shutdowns that swept the nation in March 2020.
Somehow, the first month of 2021 is gone, and February is already here, bringing with it the 12th month of quarantine, as well as the looming threat of Valentine’s Day. The impending arrival of Feb. 14 is preceded by the annual panicked rush of the single to find a valentine, and the equally panicked rush of those in relationships to find the perfect gift for their partner.
I can envision a line that separates my life from its purpose. On one side, I’m younger and I don’t know much about anything; I care about my friends and their happiness, even as time closes eras and forces disconnect. On the other, I’m mature and I’ve been places; I’m someone’s partner and I no longer fear the idea of togetherness as just two people.
Watching pornography — seen as a harmless, private, and safe activity — has become a socially acceptable form of stress relief and sexual exploration. But in reality, porn often contributes to the injustices we as a society are fighting to change, hindering our ability to find solutions.
Imagine you’re relaxed in bed, string lights aglow, watching a movie with a glass of wine when your worst fear of living with a couple suddenly happens: You hear slapping noises. A high-pitched “daddy.” Moans emanate from the bedroom all the way across your hallway, even though both bedroom doors are shut.
After the late Supreme Court Justice Ruth Bader Ginsburg’s death in September 2020, conservatives in the Senate rushed to confirm her replacement. Before the end of October, Justice Amy Coney Barrett was appointed to the U.S. Supreme Court.
If Instagram is your favorite platform, you are very, very average. Exceptionally so. This is reflected in your sex life. You’ve probably mostly had sex within a relationship, the kind where you post a less than flattering photo of your significant other captioned “my whole world” to celebrate nine months, which, frankly, is a weird milestone to celebrate outside of pregnancy.
If you told us last year that the King County Health Department would be endorsing glory holes, we wouldn't have believed you. But COVID-19 has changed the way we participate in, view, and talk about sex. Some of us have gone celibate, focusing on ourselves while putting orgasms from another person on the back burner. Others have turned to virtual outlets, fashioned gloryholes out of shower curtains, or committed to long-term relationships. This year’s annual “Sex Edition” explores sex and all the ways it appears (or doesn’t appear) in our lives.
In an ode to Tinder, swipe right to match with an article or left to browse further.
Chamidae Ford and Estey Chen
