Rate your shag: It's good to see student sex is as bad as ever

Why would any self-respecting person want to go on a website and detail their sexual conquests? 

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The Independent Online

I’m so pleased. It’s like a great weight has been lifted from my crotch. I have discovered proof that student sex is every bit as rubbish as it was ten years ago.

These ’Rate Your Shag’ Facebook groups are a life-affirmingly brilliant insight into the stinky jungle of greasy fumblings beneath the annually washed sheets of Britain’s greatest universities.

Yes those fresh-faced students might have painfully fashionable jeans and woolly hats dripping with irony. They might have an adorable quiff that pleases passers-by with breezy recitals of Renaissance poetry and Ed Sheeran lyrics. Perhaps their complexion is extraordinarily smooth as though their faces have been licked by the milky tongue of a unicorn. Maybe that girl does look pretty, even though she’s wearing Deidre Rashid’s glasses. But behind that immaculately-contrived veneer is the good old-fashioned knee-clunking and sense of shame.

Taking a look through these Facebook pages is like a nostalgic meander through my own university memories. The girl who was going to give a lad 10/10 for her night of romance until he revealed the Kakadu Jungle in his pants. She bonked him anyway, natch. The guy whose temporary beloved made noises like Pumba from the Lion King during the crescendo. One boy writes: ‘All I can say is she likes Man City way too much’. I have no idea why that’s relevant but I’m intrigued. There are some truly foul posts that take the phrase ‘washing your dirty laundry in public’ far too literally.

Ah yes, happy days. I remember a friend who was so petrified of a Spanish girl, he told her he couldn’t go to bed because it was cold and he didn’t want to take his trousers off. I will never forget brushing my teeth next to my housemate’s room only to hear – amidst the usual grunting – a very convincing impression of an owl. That being said I wouldn’t have posted any of my own exploits – good or bad - on the Student’s Union message board.

I do think a lot (sorry, showing my age there) a lot of these posts are fake, designed to shame friends or exact revenge on a past fling. And really, why would any self-respecting person want to go on a website and detail their sexual conquests? Because they’re vapid, shallow, thick, self-involved, indiscrete, bored, immature and reckless? Omg, they are like students so like duh! What we have here is a multimedia toilet cubicle.

But how fantastic to know it’s still as depressingly disappointing, messy, thrilling, confusing and embarrassing as it’s always been.

‘not even a cuddle before he passed out, later urinated in my suitcase.’

Facebook have since confirmed that many of the pages have been removed. A spokesman said: “We do not tolerate bullying or harassment. We allow users to speak freely on matters and people of public interest, but take action on all reports of abusive behaviour directed at private individuals."

One thing that really did interest me is the fact that the majority of the truly nasty posts are made by girls. They poke fun at the size of a boy’s manhood or chastise him for looking in the mirror during the act (perhaps you’re a bit ugly?) and generally belittle their conquests. I only mention this because we are often told that young porn-obsessed men are the only ones guilty of base sexual attitudes. Not if you take this bunch of boobed louts into account. Hardly sugar and spice and all things nice.

It’s particularly pathetic and pernicious because you can’t see who the authors are. It’s funny how cruel anonymous people can be (feel free to comment below).

Nonetheless, I can’t rail against these pages. I’m sure some will see them as further condemnation of the next generation and yes they ain’t very judicious or classy. But if you’re going to go out, drink yourself into a frenzy and meander home with some sick-stained stranger for a gonorrhoea gamble…then maybe you don’t care if your performance is aired in public. YOLO.