Politics: Sexiling

To sexile:

To banish a roomate from the room/dorm/apartment for the purpose of engaging in intimate relations with one's significant other/sex partner.

Sexiling is a usual custom of dorm life, but only if you share your room with another. Hence our lovely Forbes Hall with a plethora of doubles rooms must get its fair share of "sexiling", no? If you haven't been in such a situation, pray you never feel the heightened anxiety of leaving your room for such acts of fornication. Most roommates often concede their rooms this time and that for good show of manners, but there surely are times when the cold hard floor of the hall, the scruffiness of the lounge couches, or awkwardly inquiring to use another's bed on your floor is just not okay.

After the long weekend, I am sure some of you experienced such a disaster, no? Please, Forbsians, tell me your anguish, your shame, your anger; vent to me, spill to me, share with me; share with others your tortures for surely others shall relate.

UPDATE FROM LAST POST:
I would like to clear the air of my supposed bias on "roomiecest". I am not discouraging the acts of fornication in our lovely hall, I am merely advising you of the possible consequences as an outcome of inter-floor, inter-dorm sexual interaction. I am not biased at all towards any homosexual acts because I may be "straight", I am an ambiguous being that hears all, sees all, and is all.

Through my email system I have learned a certain couple on the Fifth Floor has decided to go by the name "Jimison"... a strange coupling technique that leaves me baffled, but, by whatever means, make yourselves comfortable here at Forbes. While your true names are unknown, your compound name will live on, plastered on the pages of The Forbes Informer.

An attempted floorcest is just as intriguing as a full -cestual endeavor. One reader emailed:

"AB, who lives a few doors down from me, came back really drunk last night, and went right back to his room. I saw him walk in, and I followed him towards his room, worried that he might have had a few too many. When I looked at the door, and asked him if he was okay, he said "Dude, you are making me so hot right now." I freaked the fuck out, and slammed the door, almost hitting him in the face. He's a bit bigger than me, so I just got really scared and overreacted. He didn't open up his door during the next half-hour I was in my room. It was humiliating, but sort of funny I guess."

Quite a tale from our anonymous reader, and yes, "sort of funny".

Another email I have recently received described some interesting if rather specific events that have occurred. In fact, the email blatantly named one of the RSA members. I do not condone this kind of calling-out. The Forbes Informer regards anonymity in its highest. However, this piece of Forbes gossip is too intriguing to disregard, therefore I will preserve anonymity and share with you all aforesaid account:

"i've heard a crazy story on the [?] floor that a certain RSA [officer] who is supposedly "straight" kissed a flamboyant and fiesty midg. maybe once. maybe twice. maybe full on make-out."

We all, more or less, voted on the RSA elections for our favorite candidates and I wonder if this certain member ran on promises of sexual promiscuity (cross gender lines?).

Also through my email system I have received quite a comic anecdote of one resident residing on an anonymous floor:

"Dear Sir or Madam:

I wish to make a complaint about the noise that emanates from the room with which I share a wall in the [?] floor of Forbes Hall. Whilst I am in my serene quarters, studying diligently for an upcoming test or exam, I am frequently disturbed by the raucous lovemaking going on next door. The frequent bumps against my wall coupled with the frenetic heavy breathing and cries of “Yes! Yes! Only 1 more lap!” make it extremely difficult for a studious student like myself to concentrate on mentally taxing work. When one cannot concentrate in his own room, it is a sad day for the fine dormitory facility of Forbes Hall at large. The tall one is by far the most irritating, but the stoned one is not much more less annoying. These two individuals, who I shall not name, have greatly decreased my standard of living with their love for each other. It is nearly impossible to even do rudimentary mental math in betwixt cries of “I understand! It is all clear! Yes, Aristotle, yes!” and “Win this one, Phelps!” interspersed with screams of what can only be euphoria of the flesh.

I sincerely hope some action is taken against these disruptive and sinful individuals, or else I shall be forced to seduce one of them for myself.

Sincerely Yours,
A Concerned Resident"

While this particular account leaves me with a strong sense of doubt for its legitimacy, I still couldn't stop myself from proffering quite a giggle. Please, Forbesians, keep the stories, tales, theories, myths coming. I would love for them to be surely legitimate, but I can only examine and tell what I have read. And, as Socrates said, "The unexamined life is not worth living."

xoxo

The Forbes Informer