Writing a college essay is like the Death Star firing its planet-destroying gun. You know those green lasers that come from the edges of that dented circle, forming a point in the middle? Each laser is like one piece of evidence to support your thesis. Then that one big green laser shoots out from the middle of all the little ones and Boom! Alderan is hit with a massive, thesis-proving conclusion. That’s why you should avoid writing papers at all costs: every time you finish one, somewhere, a planet explodes.

However, I think we can stand to lose a planet for the topic I am about to write a college essay about. That topic is none other than love. Love is a magical word. Run out into the middle of the street and scream it at the top of your lungs, and people will look at you funny. Come to think of it, every word is a magical word when used in that way. Also, being sick and being in love is the same thing. Or, they’re two different things that use the same orifices.

Speaking of orifices, it’s time to change the topic to something more sensational that will improve my ratings. Hmm…let’s see. Oh, I know. Sex! What do I think about when I think about sex? Your mom, mostly, but that’s another article.

There’s so much mythology built up around sex that people don’t have a clue what it’s really about. Between unrealistic depictions in movies, TV and the Internet, sex has taken on the legendary status of Hercules. Now, don’t get me wrong, Hercules is awesome; however, he suffers from one fatal flaw: narcolepsy. Didn’t know that, did you? Yep, he fell asleep for a good twenty minutes while fighting the Hydra. What does this have to do with sex? Absolutely nothing, which is exactly my point. The images and concepts we see about sex have very little in common with the actual thing. Then folks get disappointed when it doesn’t turn out the way they expected. Well, I’m here to tell everyone not to worry, because I have a solution. How can I possibly have a method that will solve such a chronic buildup of sexual neurosis? Well, obviously it’s a pack of rabid wombats. Think about it. You’re in bed with your lover, feeling pretty nervous and unsure of yourself. Then all of a sudden a pack of rabid wombats is running everywhere and now you’re really nervous and unsure about you’re continued existence, much less your sexual prowess. Then, after you and your partner beat back the wombats, you’re both so grateful that you’re alive and uninjured (depending on how successful the wombat fighting was), that in a moment of adrenaline fueled passion, all your inhibitions will fall away and you’ll have intense, wild and unfettered sex. Either that or you’ll just be psychologically conditioned to scream and chase imaginary wombats whenever you’re naked.

Now you’ll have to excuse me, I need to get off the planet in case it explodes.