College Content Part Three:

8 Words Of Advice For Spring Break:

With Ken Rosenthal putting on his stupid fucking bow tie heading down to Florida for Spring Training and one-hit-wonder rappers from the mid-2000’s buying their tickets to Cancun, it feels like Spring Break is in the air. Because of how fucked most college’s spring schedules are, there really isn’t a designated Spring Recess for most, but I’m sure by now you guys have figured something out. I’ll be taking my talents back to South Beach, getting brutally sunburnt, and drinking away the anxiety I’ve procured from an atrocious performance during midterms. As a junior, I’d consider myself somewhat of a Spring Break veteran. Here’s the thing about Spring Break: mistakes make for electric GroupMe content later, but you don’t want to do anything that could completely ruin your life when you enter back to normal society. I’m not a fucking Mom telling you that it’s a bad idea to get thrown in the drunk tank or publicly makeout with a forty-seven-year-old cougar; I’m just saying you don’t want to come home with herpes and a negative bank account. So here’s some advice from a wily vet that has taken one too many L’s. 

Try and Make Some Of Your Food: Most of your calories will come from alcohol, but as a boy, you need to consume at least two square meals to keep your stamina going. You don’t want to be that guy in and out of consciousness with a 2k Gatorade emoticon above his face full of sharpy drawn dicks. If you eat out every meal and go to bars like you know you’re going to, you’re going to burn through your savings faster than a JaMarcus Russell buying jewelry and promethazine on a rookie contract. Be smart here. It could even be as simple as some bread, peanut butter, and jelly. If you have a grill, use it. The hero of my Spring Break trip last year was the guy that collected $20 from everybody and went to Whole Foods. If you’re staying in a shitty hotel room, buy non-perishable food that you can get some calories from throughout the day. Sure, doing uppers means you can skip a meal, but at some point, a big dog’s gotta eat. 

Buy A RoundTrip Plane Ticket: Unless you’re in real dire straits or waiting for a paycheck, this is a no-brainer. Even with COVID, a one-way plane ticket is 100% going to be more expensive and less convenient than biting the bullet ahead of time. The LAST thing you want to do is hitch a ride with some random friend-of-a-friend that decided to drive back. Normal anxiety, in addition to an awkward extended car ride, is any reasonable person’s worst nightmare. What if you have to fart the entire car ride? Just take the L, deal with the 1000000 babies that are on every Spirit Airlines flight.

Wait To Breakup After Spring Break: I once went on a Spring Break trip with a girl who I fought with the whole time, and I’d say I would’ve had more fun doing something else, like forcing myself to read Chrissie Teagan’s tweets…or suicide. My edible just hit halfway through this blog. I was told it was not strong and was lied to. Oh my god, I’ve been on this sentence for ten minutes. But anyway, yeah, if you’re fighting with somebody during your entire Spring Break, there are likely trust issues at hand anyway. A vast majority of college relationships don’t work out, so a week of drunk fighting is pretty proof positive things for the two (maybe like…I don’t know… seven if you go to BYU) of you aren’t going to get better anyway. But DON’T end shit midway through a trip. That is not only a logistical nightmare for figuring out a new living situation, but you’re also introducing drama with that move. For you, the worst possible environment to end things with your girl is one where she has the opportunity to wear about as much clothing as a Mets executive alone in a hotel room, surrounded by guys just as drunk as just as horny as you are.

Anything Easy Is Usually A Scam: When I was a teenager thinking I was smarter than my parents, I invested a lot of time looking into get rich quick schemes around the internet. The Wolf of Wall Street made this habit exponentially worse. Whenever I imagined some loophole I believed I had thought up first, my Mom would always say anything easy is usually a scam. And that, my friends, is why any girl that starts aggressively pleading to go to your hotel room after five minutes of eating face is usually a bad idea. A girl that eager to have sex with a commoner like yourself is usually A. Wayyy too drunk or B. Been passed around more than the bong on a Zoomies employee’s Mom’s basement table. You don’t want to have unconsensual sex or the amount of itchy, red bumps a high school Cross-Country runner has on their face on YOUR ball sack. 

Sunscreen: The sun hurts, and I fucking hate my dermatologist, put doctor Haberman out of business. 

Bottle Service Is Hardo: Odds are you aren’t rolling into a club with an NFL prospect friend or an influencer, so don’t feel the need to buy bottle service. Every time I’ve been with a friend who ordered bottle service, once the last drop was consumed out of the Fifth we just paid the cost of an abortion for, girls have left almost instantaneously. It’s about as overrated as Community, and usually, nobody gets anything out of it. If you don’t have it like that, it’s really fucking barred-out to pretend you do. Blowing your debit card on thirty minutes of feeling like you aren’t five foot-six is so fucking hardo. You aren’t Lil Uzi bro. You’re Lil Overcompensating.

Don’t Sign Your Name On The Lease: My freshman year, we trashed a woman’s house in South Padre Island so bad that we got evicted three days into a week rental. The process of getting held at ransom because my boys and I used Fakes for her identification policy left me about as stressed out as Jason Bateman in anything he’s ever been in ever. If you’re reading this, you likely aren’t the stupidest kid in your PC, and this is a nightmare waiting to happen, man. 

Don’t Be The Kid Who Always Talks About Spring Break: The best part of the journey you are about to go on is the irreplaceable memories and relationships you’ll make. Whether it was last year when I got a drunken tattoo on my ass, or three years ago when I went out drinking with the Clemson Football team, some of my best memories took place on Spring Break. It’s a time where you’ll see things that will impact how you see the world for the rest of your life. Don’t overdo it, though. Nobody likes the asshole that ruins a memory by reminding the room of something funny he did so often that it’s ruined the story. The weird hookups you’ll have and the strange situations you’ll find yourself in are sacred, so no need to bring it up every time you have a handful of White Claws. 

This could’ve taken me an hour at most, but we are approaching six hours. I’m so sorry for the grammar. God damnit, I have my last Midterm tomorrow. Holy shit, that’s going to suck.

The 14 Best Beers You Will Have In Your Life (RANKED):

14. The Pitcher Deal Beer: This is almost always a Tuesday/Wednesday beer. It’s a $4 (three if you live in the midwest) pitcher of a foamie PBR that makes you forget for a few brief, invaluable hours that you are so fucked on Thurdsay’s Midterm. It’s oftentimes met with sober intentions, but it’s a happy hour deal that mirrors a step-sister stuck in the washing machine. Maybe it’s a Top Golf beer, it could certainly be a bowling alley beverage, but if you’re a real one, it’s a Dave & Busters. This is a very, very sneaky beer.

13. The First Game Of Die Beer: The five minutes of preparation that turned into an hour because your one friend decided to smoke a bowl and watch three episodes of South Park has commenced, and you know you’re in for A DAY. This is a piss beer that you have been waiting to sip with the anticipation of a divorced single Mom putting the kids to sleep and having twelve minutes alone with her vibrator. This first of many, it is imperative that this beer goes down slow. If you’re accustomed to running table, you know as well as I do that beer die is a marathon, not a sprint. The team chemistry between you and your partner needs to be maintained, and you can’t fuck that up by having Ray Charles’ hand-eye coordination. 

12. The Ski Lift: Full disclosure, I’ve only ever skied once (I played Hockey growing up), but I couldn’t put this higher because you motherfuckers would slaughter me (yes, high as in 14, not 1). From what I’m told, this works better as a whiskey, but for argument’s sake, let’s call it a pocket beer. I don’t see anything wrong with having a shooken up Miller Lite drizzle down your chin while you are simultaneously boiling and freezing. 

11. The Porch Beer: This is an early autumn beer. In my mind, it’s an IPA hazier than a millennial leaving a Phish concert. There you are with a couple of your housemates sipping on something you know you can’t afford as you take in the changing of the seasons and debate whether or not Zeta or Phi Sig brought in the superior recruiting class. This is the lazy man’s beer, the Sunday hangover cure, and the fuse that lights incessant college football debates.

10. The First Step On The Trail Of Beers: You’re in Cabo or South Padre Island, you feel like a shell of a human being, and no amount of Pedialyte could rejuvenate you on day three of this bender. The hangover hasn’t kicked in yet, but it’s pounding on the door like Jack Nicholson in The Shining. If you still had money, you’d go for a mimosa, but the $83.17 left in your PNC account is telling you “FUCK NO.” Your only option to escape this situation is to have your boy throw you one of his tallboys of Natty Ice like he’s Soap throwing the knife at Shepherd at the end of the MW2 campaign. 

9. The Golf Beer: This beer comes in all different shapes and sizes. It could be a Coors Lite from the hands of the cute cart girl billed to your buddy’s Dad, it could be one of many on a public course; hell, it could even be a Rolling Rock that you accidentally left in your golf bag. This beer is the lubricant you need to shake off the fact that you have been shanking and slicing your way through the first four holes. Think of yourself as Dwayne Wade, and this beer is your G-Fuel. Get your head back in the game, champion. 

8. The One With Dad: Whether it’s around the holidays by the fire, in a tree-stand at nine in the morning, or just shooting the shit watching baseball, it’s a beer that you sip slowly as you get to pick your old man’s brain. It’ll always be his favorite beer because he “refuse[s] to drink that shit” when you offer him one of yours. It doesn’t matter where you are in life; your Dad will always give you the advice you probably needed to hear in this scenario. You may not like what he has to say, but he’s almost always been there before. 

7. The Off Work: Any form of manual labor constitutes this beer, which is why there are countless empties under the foundation of your house. You mowed the lawn? Time for a beer. You helped your buddy move apartments on an August day? You deserve the bluest of mountains. Even if you finally shut off your laptop because you’ve been in and out of Zoom meetings all day with your dickhead boss that passive agressively apologizes that he “wasn’t raised around all this Zoom stuff”, even though you’ve been using Zoom for almost A FUCKING YEAR, that still constitutes a back crack and twelve fluid ounces of happiness.

6. The Catch Up: It’s Thanksgiving weekend, and you’re back in a half-finished basement with your friends, the first four stews of the night are all it takes to bring things back to the way they were before internships, girlfriends, and all the other bullshit that comes with pretending you’re an adult. Memories of you’re one boy pissing his pants on senior week come flooding back, and before you know it, you guys are recollecting all the degeneracy you took place in when you guys first got driver’s licenses. Eventually, this conversation turns into the drunk version of a white family’s Christmas card. “So are you serious about this girl?” “Being on probation fucking sucks.” “I didn’t know she was a hooker beforehand.” Ect. 

5. The First Time Using A Fake: The first time going into the liquor store that high school upperclassmen have handed down for years is one of the most thrill-seeking experiences you will ever have. If I looked at the tape of my seventeen-year-old self, walking into the shittiest liquor store in my county dressed like I was in my final round of interviews for an internship on Wall Street, I would laugh my fucking ass off. My dumbass scripted such a detailed origin story about my Connecticut Identification that almost FIVE YEARS later, my guy Omar is still asking how my hypothetical Aunt in Chemotherapy is doing. Whether or not he knew it was fake all along and is just fucking with me, I don’t know. Still, at this point, whenever I’m home grabbing the same bottle of Seagram’s Whiskey for the four millionth time, we talk about my “daughter” ’s daycare, how the wife (my-ex girlfriend that would come in there to buy juul pods) is doing, and if I ever thinking about moving back up home. He has me in such a goddamn mental puzzle. Nevertheless, the pride a young man feels drinking a twenty-four pack that he risked a felony for hits different. If you were the one that purchased alcohol for your other underage friends in high school, you get to carry that badge of honor forever. 

4. The Momentous Moment Beer: A couple of weeks ago, I was sitting back watching my dickhead friends argue, looking at my girlfriend play with our puppy, and recollecting. I never thought I’d be where I am. Whether it be the battles with mental health, pure idiocracy, or the other numerous twists and turns I’ve had, I sat back for just a moment drinking a beer. Don’t confuse this with a “damn, I made it,” beer, it’s anything but that. Life is going to continue to fuck you rawdog POV style, but it IS nice to sit back and drink a beer on momentous occasions. It could be your wedding day, the first day you started therapy, or even the moment your team FINALLY fired the GM that made all the wrong moves; it deserves to be celebrated. I think a man gets around 30-40 of these in his lifetime, so cherish each one. 

3. The Deep Beer: This beer pulls the curtains behind the catch-up beer. This beer says, no dude, actually how are you? It’s an epilogue to a night of drinking for sport. It’s when you are ⅓ sobered up, but you have the courage to tell a closest friend something you couldn’t even say looking in the mirror. It’s where you can be most vulnerable and where true friendship shows it’s merit. This beer subconsciously ends marriages, advises your next professional move, and tells you whether or not you are ready to have kids. It’s a priceless conversation that you will never forget over something you bought at a gas station with pocket change.

2. The $10 At A Ballgame: If you aren’t a Patriots, Lakers, or Alabama football fan, you can experience this beer. It’s somehow procuring tickets to the franchise you’ve watched lose on TV for years, finally sneaking into the playoffs, and not giving a flying fuck how much a beer costs. Sitting nosebleeds and watching your underdog team stay competitive in a game is perhaps the best a man will ever feel. This beer could cost half of your mortgage, and you would still buy it every. fucking. time. I can’t portray the rollercoaster of emotions one may have when their team is going for it on fourth and two in words, but if you’ve been privileged enough to be in this situation, hairs will stick up on your neck just remembering the silver bullet in your hand. 

1. The Beach Beer: The Gretzky of beers. The fuck my boss, fuck my girlfriend, fuck my priorities, fuck rent, fuck Melvin Capital, fuck my depression, fuck my bills, fuck seeing my inlaws, fuck this chafing on my ballsack, fuck politics, fuck the douchebag sixteen year old wearing a full send bathing suit next to me, fuck taxes, fuck cyclists, fuck my bank statement glorious, sandy beer in a koozie you have been waiting months to drink. Dispute me if you want, it’s all a matter of personal preference, but I will be as ignorant as a white woman on the phone with Peleton’s customer service; this is the greatest of beers.

The Timeline Of A Girl’s Weekend Snapchat Story:

From the age of 16 on, I think that every Friday, Saturday, and Sunday morning, I have seen the same Snapchat story unfold from a college girl’s prior night out and about. A night that often began far earlier than 50 Cent serenading her ears on a shitty SoundCloud remix as she applies $11 of Sephora on her face. The following is a timeline of the Snapchat story the average girl’s friendslist sees, which began on a sketchy Chinese website and ended with her losing her credit card as pizza grease dribbled down her new top.

Six months prior (if she’s an underclassman): “Anyone want to get in on a new fake order?!?” She was texted in her group chat appropriately named “SigChi Slutzz😫😫😫.” She lost one while visiting her friend at her state’s school and knew that this last one was one formal away from being snatched at the hands of a man who very much did not enjoy her insistence that he should allow her to get multiple drinks at a time “because this line is crazyyyyy long.” 

4:27 pm: “Oh my god, my liver is literally begging me to stay in tonight. How much coke do you think we need for tonight?! I’m gonna get my little sooo drunk,” her best friend uttered to her in the final class of the day. She was already planning her outfit in her imagination, and jotting down Instagram captions with the focus of Eminem on the back of the bus in 8 Mile. 

5:56: With 2 grams of Central America’s finest in purse and 2 handles of Tito’s in trunk, it was time to nap and get some beauty sleep before a night of overworking her kidneys like LeBron on the 2016 playoff Cavs.

8:03: The girls are all ready, and their littles come through. This is usually the first Snapchat on our timeline. The sorority little will then work every angle, every filter, and all available lighting she can to make sure her biggie and company have the best looking picture possible. She is no longer Katie; she is now a thotty photography artist. The world NEEDS to know how hot her friends are. 

8:09: This is where we get our second photo on tonight’s timeline. “Cutest little” or the classic, “OMG my babies.” During this picture, I have noticed there will always be a freshman or two wearing cheetah print of some kind. (I am very confused of this phenomenon of freshman girls wearing cheetah print, and they look like a petting zoo rather than a Zeta pledge class when they pop out of an Uber, but maybe that’s just me)

9:14: Alcohol in veins, they are ready for some testosterone in their lives. This is where we get the classic photo where her wearing something unusual she stole from a guy. If you go to school down south, this is almost always a cowboy hat, but it could be almost anything. There is nothing that makes a girl happier than trying on your cowboy hat for two minutes, getting a picture she thinks will be hilarious, and posting it for the world to see.

10:17: I like to call this one “I’m going to put a camera in this kid’s face.” 99% of the time, if a girl puts a flash camera in your face, she either wants to get with you, or you are DOWN BAAAAD in the friend zone. 

10:51: A 2008 Red Toyota Sienna has pulled up, courtesy of one of its horny male passengers. This is where Snapchat magic/tragedy begins. After being informed of the lack of auxiliary utilities, the drunkest girl is ready to STORM the castle. She is in a full-fledge drunken speech and orally notes that she will be giving Viktor, a 49-year-old war veteran discharged involuntarily, 2 stars max. Little does she know what Viktor has anger management, and the Snapchat audience will witness this fight between Viktor and Drunk Girl #5 amidst the caption “Our uber hates us😂 #viktorisadick”

11:23: A brief video of her and a girl she’s only friends with when she gets drunk taking a shot. Nothing noteworthy.

12:43: This one is for the bitches back in high school that doubted her. A picturesque view of a packed bar and she’s in it among the crowd. She’s singing, everyone’s happy. And even though the audience on Snapchat will hate her awful voice, she has no cares for how cringy she may sound; that is a tomorrow problem.

2:03: Drunk Girl #5 from before, she has quite literally been in and out of passing out on her piece of pizza. All the other girls are still up, and two gentlemen are featured in the finale who are already thinking of baseball statistics to last longer and, by the grace of God, allow someone’s daughter an orgasm. Drunk Girl #5 will hate this in the morning, but it’s a perfect end to our coming of age movie.

The Seven Girls You’ll Meet In College:

Upon entering the cesspool of cum, beer, and new balances at a collegiate institution, 18-year-old males wait eagerly for sorority rush to come to an end and opportunities for them to engage in three minutes of disappointing intercourse to begin. For the fraternity male, he bestows a proud college emblem, or perhaps some sort of sea creature etched on his left breast. After weeks of chatting with the guys about how “wet” he’s going to be at intramural basketball and scrolling to the picture where his girlfriend in high school’s ass trumps the pineapple she is sipping from, he is ready to delve into new experiences and meet all kinds of girls. Speaking from experience, I will break down the seven girls that he will inevitably buy a lemon drop shot for some time in the next three months.

The “down to earth” girl from one of the coasts

Don’t be fooled fellas, those free people jeans cost her $79. She loves smoking weed and while it’s great she lives down the hall because she’s “the homie” she will eat at your wallet due to her affinity for a study-break nicotine buzz and love for the 94% THC cart you just bought that will give you both cancer in 52 years. She’s no slut, but she gets around enough. That “national earth day” Instagram post with seven pictures in it, ya, she’s been sitting on that since Summer, and she knows how good that vsco filter makes the sun look. You will get sick of her at times, but you really think she’s cool, even if that meme she sent you is aged you will still force a laugh.

The girl that loves cocaine

This girl is a fun time. She’s already fucked three guys you vaguely know and she’s gone to her sorority standards bitch twice already. Let it be known she will expect you to call that Uber at the pregame and if she’s not having fun she’ll let you know. She’s probably from a suburb of a big city and she has been going to bars since she was like 16. She will provide a detailed explanation of the bruises she has on her knee between bumps of blow and her Snapchat stories are a little too long for your liking. She’s sexy and looooooooves EDM.

The girl that “thinks sororities are stupid”

Most of the time, she rushed sororities and didn’t get into the one she wanted to get into. This girl loves tequila shots and will 100% blackout if you take her to formal. There is something off about her, and you can’t quite put your finger on it. She got incredibly upset you left her on open and she is always wondering what bars you’re going to at night. She is wildly passionate about astrology and loves Caucasian James. Wildcard.

The girl that has 3 tests this week

You met her on the night of her friend’s birthday. Her friends dragged her out and she was okay with it because nursing school is hard and she hasn’t posted an Instagram that illustrates how much fun she’s having in too long. DO NOT follow her fake Instagram or her private Snapchat story because it will ONLY consist of complaining and pictures of her crying. For whatever reason, she always has three exams a week, and she lurks in the library with a hydro flask and a somewhat shitty attitude. She thinks you’re a fuck.

The Southern Girl

It is amazing to you that she fucked your roommate like a pro, yet has Corinthians 2:14 in her Instagram bio. She had a boyfriend for 3 years in high school and she LOVES Thomas Rhett. She isn’t into drugs, but she loves her sorority little, tailgates, and stealing shirts. You’ll donate the one dollar to her philanthropic cause because you will be hungover and it will make you feel like a champ. Baseball games are her cup of tea during the spring and her senior year picture was professionally taken. She smells good and is surprisingly smarter than you expected her to be, despite the fact that she’s anti-abortion while hating condoms. Her Twitter is essentially just a cacophony of family-in-the-military reunions and retweets about your roommate’s propensity to get with people who aren’t her.

The girl with a boyfriend from home

Jesus Christ this is a lucky fella. Whenever he’s a dick, and he will be, she will ask for your honest opinion on him, but she will remember that you shat on him when they get back together. She loves fitness and can be seen posting up at a new smoothie place. Her taste in music consists only of Rap Caviar, which you will inevitably listen to because she will drive you somewhere at some point. She has a Jeep or a Range Rover, but you already knew that though.

The girl that loved Spring Break

It doesn’t matter that it was months ago, she had the time of her life. She probably got a lip tat and she fell on a table while her friends recorded her attempting to shotgun a beer. Did you throw up last night after packing that second bowl? Reminds her of this one time she threw up, on spring break.