Well kids, only two columns left.

The last handful of weeks have gone by with an alarming acceleration, the sort of time travel that is only conceivable after spending weekend upon fucking weekend enjoying booze for breakfast and blunts for brunch. But try as I might to find fault with the behavior that has since left my mind a cloudy, vacant lot full of Led Zeppelin and missed calls, I simply can’t shake the feeling that, with the promise of summer right around the corner, there is nothing out of the ordinary when it comes to partying harder than Crockett and Tubbs.

Getting my animal communication midterm back, applying the last coat of shellac to final projects, booking a Disneyland vacation the same week as my dippy art final, I can’t bring myself to care about any of it. A premature case of the summertime blues has got me more apathetic than a masochist tea-bagging a shoebox full of fiddler crabs.

But that doesn’t mean that I’ve given up on my darling Wednesday Hump.

So before I get all teary eyed and pen my swan song seven days from now, I figure we’ll begin the deliciously juicy farewell with a bang. Multiple bangs, actually, once your adorable ass realizes that this Hump is not just about having orgasms as you’ve come to understand them; it’s about experiencing a pleasure unlike anything you ever believed you were capable of.

As much as I enjoy Christmas and eating all the chocolates out of my kid sister’s advent calendars, for the sake of the life-changing orgasm, I’m asking all of you to embrace a bit of Eastern spirituality, specifically Tantra, as I have.

A quick poll of the knuckleheads hanging out at the UCen illustrated that most common misconception when it comes to the practice. “Mike” conveyed his understanding with the eloquence of anal beads being tugged out of a rattlesnake: “Tantra, that’s when you can fuck for, like, two days. Yeah?”

Almost, dipshit.

While a mastery of Tantric sex can lead to lengthy bouts of cooter critiquing, that is by no means the goal of Tantra spiritual science. Tantric love is about ridding yourself of the fear, anxiety and obsession we all experience while chasing down the orgasm, what we have come to understand as the end-all be-all of juice swapping. It is about learning that for a man, coming once does not mean that his sexual energy has been drained, and for a woman, leaving a wet spot means the good times are just beginning.

With Tantric sex, there is no goal to be reached. Rather than thrusting until you’ve smushed a girl’s face well into the sofa cushions, Tantra is about the moment, believing that sex is the perfect union of man and woman, balls and bottoms. If you’ve ever wished that a hookup could last forever, the lovemaking itself, not the orgasm, then you tasted the divine delights that I’m getting at.

I know you think I’m sounding like a goddamn hippie, talking about sex as some sort of vehicle to swap energy and reach a new level of being, but I’m willing to take that risk. Especially when the common alternative, what many of us call sex, involves shots of Cuervo and the sound of Freebirds rumbling around in the guts of our partner. Compare that to the most satisfying result of Tantric love: the energy orgasm.

Much more than the very Western “genital” orgasm, the energy orgasm is a feeling of peace and otherworldly ecstasy. To reach it, and I’m serious, focus on energy flowing from your genitals through your tummy, heart, throat, eyes and the top of your head. Don’t be put off by the meditative humping; if you work at it – and I’m serious – multiple orgasms that involve your entire being aren’t that far away.

By extending and expanding the peak of sexual ecstasy, the act of love becomes a natural vehicle for exploring altered states as well as for deepening intimacy between two partners. It’s a lot like the bond I share with a magical lover I call Captain Morgan. He whisks me away to magical realities where ex-girlfriends love my phone calls and peeing on fences is very vogue.

I love him long time, very long time.

Daily Nexus sex columnist Dave Franzese would rather use the Force to create a sexual, galactic connection with Natalie Portman than any of that Tantra nonsense.