NBC reports, and Loose Lips links, this alert about a sexual assault that occurred last weekend in Georgetown. D.C. police are on the lookout for a 25 to 28-year-old black man, about 5 feet 8 inches tall and weighing around 150 pounds, with a “close haircut or a shaved head.” The suspect allegedly “entered a residence in the 1400 block of Wisconsin Avenue near O Street early Sunday morning,” where he “attacked and sexually assaulted a woman inside.”

If you have information on the crime, call Crime Solvers at (800) 673-2777.

Last month, I wrote a story about anonymous gossip Web site Juicy Campus hitting Georgetown University. I found the GU students I talked to split between the concerned and the insincere: Some were repulsed by the site, while others refused to take the platform seriously (that’s two of Georgetown’s Juicy jokers, Sean Baumann and Tom Hutton, above). Today, the Washington Post has a piece about some Georgetown students who take the site pretty seriously. On Tuesday, Juicy Campus founder Matt Ivester took questions from students. According to reporter Susan Kinzie, those questions included:

- Why can’t you prevent people’s reputations from being smeared on your site?

- Why don’t you take down the racist comments?

- Do you know some students are so distraught about the things said about them that they might drop out of school?

- How do you sleep at night?

Ivester’s defense? “I think they’re going to have to start developing a sense of humor.”

Photo by Darrow Montgomery.

The Georgetown University student newspaper, the Hoya, has a story this week about the phenomenon of on-campus “pleasure parties.” Reporter Alex Lee writes about a pleasure party she hosted at her Georgetown townhouse:

Sitting cross-legged on my living room sofa here at Georgetown, Jenny Cancelado holds in her right hand twelve inches of vibrating, scintillating and writhing purple plastic. “This,” she beams, “is the Endless Pleasure. It is the Cadillac of our toy line.” After a litany of lubes, lotions and other little extras that were a part of the so-called pleasure party hosted at my townhouse, Cancelado had saved the toys for an encore.

I knew a girl like this in college. She was so “progressive” and “open” about her sexuality that she made sure to corner every dorm resident and explain her progressive openness to them. This openness came in the form of extensive PDA displays with her boyfriend, whose tiny single-room dorm she conquered shortly into our first semester; inappropriate butt-squeezing, from which no one was safe; and, of course, a  psychological void that could only be filled by offending someone by saying something “outrageous.”

It wasn’t long before the Pleasure Party invitation came in. As Lee explains in the Hoya piece, Pleasure Parties are promotional gatherings targeted at women. At them, sex toys and accessories “are presented to guests who are offered an opportunity to touch, smell and even taste products. . . . [the event] strives to create a setting where women can express and explore their sexuality openly and on their own terms.”

In my experience, though, the Pleasure Party is actually the place where “exploring your sexuality” meets “exploiting your friends” through “pushing expensive product.” I declined the invitation.

Photo by paper or plastic?