Best College Content Part Two:

Cumming on Campus:

In retrospect, I’m really glad I didn’t name this blog “jacking off with a roommate,” because that could’ve gone a few ways.

 If you’re heading into freshman year of college, this is definitely not the first time you’ve broached this subject. Here’s the thing about growing up: YES- you will exponentially have more opportunities to get laid than you did in high school, but NO- movie depictions of you having a threesome with two DZ’s at a naked paint party with a red solo cup in your hand are not what Tuesdays on a campus look like. So naturally, there will come a time amid the excitement of meeting new people and newfound independence where you’re going to have to do the only thing that gave your life purpose in middle school. 

It’s such a cop-out to say just jack off in the shower. If you are in a dorm with communal showers, you’re not going to have the opportunity to jerk off if you’re popping in the shower around 8 AM rush hour. There’s only X amount of showers, and X amount of people need those showers. Say you’re halfway through the storyline; you just got to the part where Abella Danger is asking her brother if her yoga pants are too tight, then BAMB there’s a knock on your door. The blood rushes back from your penis, and you’ve done a 180 from horny mode to fuck I really hope the volume didn’t echo mode. At that point, your chances of cumming have plunged harder than PENN stock after a new Portnoy sex tape leaks, and you went all that way for nothing. But in truth, the shower is the most logical location; you just have to be strategic about it. I’d recommend a nice four o’clock shower. Nobody’s in there at that time, 

If you’ve gotten to the point with your roommate where you can text him, “yo come back from class a little later I’m gonna jerk off,” he’s no longer your roommate; he’s your best friend. And while it’s not impossible that your college roommate is the guy giving your best man toast, that’s not a reality for most of us. Reality is a homesick kid from rural Michigan that snores like a morbidly obese asthmatic that never leaves the room on weekends. Through my experiences, there’s nothing worse than being in a room when someone thinks you’re asleep and they’re watching Riley Reid get her asshole torn apart on low volume. That’s the most uncomfortable position in the world. At least with sex, there’s an unspoken connection where it’s pretty much on you because you’re not getting pussy, and your roommate is. But jerking off while your roommate is awake… that’s about as uncomfortable as watching your Italian friend’s hardcore republican Dad interact with his pansexual nephew. 

If you’re going to jerk off in your room, know your roommate’s schedule WELL. Know that his Macro teacher will let him out ten minutes early on Thursday and adjust accordingly. Living in student housing has its perks, but jacking off is not one of them.

The 7 Types Of Dudes In Every Male Friend Group:

Wild Card:

Some might call him the twice-a-year friend, others an asshole, and a few the reason it hurts when she pees. But let’s just borrow Always Sunny’s terminology and call him the Wild Card. He’s clinically insane, but he also provided you with your best stories. He calls you once every six weeks, leading with a recap of his weekend making love to a diplomat’s daughter in a tent at Lolla, and ends the call pleading for a $115 loan. How can a guy constantly between waiting jobs and crypto schemes afford a long weekend in Chicago? You don’t know, but you give him the money knowing that there’s a Russell Westbrook contested mid-range chance you get it back. Whenever you ask him what he’s up to professionally, he uses the words “crypto” and “offshore” so often that you leave the conversation more confused than before. He’s the only guy you know that’s been to both East Hampton and a Louisiana state prison. 

Mr. Dependable:

The Peyton Manning of your friends. Nothing comes naturally to this guy, but he works hard, and he’s pretty good at everything. He’s always in and out of two-year relationships, he’s a four Bud Light Platinums at the bar guy, and he’s helped you get out of quite a few pickles. He’s the call you make when you’re standing outside of a girl’s house in a Banana costume with throw up on it. If you ever have a son, you’d want him to be like this guy. In fact, this dude gets wildly underappreciated, especially after the shit you guys pulled in Vegas on him; you owe him a text. 

The Short/Fat Funny Kid: 

I’m Fat and Funny: Boob luges, farts, and outlandish Tinder stories. Girls love him (always as a friend), which is why he struggles deep down. By age twenty-five, he’ll finally try and get around to completing that new year’s resolution, but for now, he’s just the Chris Farley of your friend group. At any given moment, he’s got three fast food bags in his room, he Mcgregor’s the wall when the over doesn’t hit, and he can put down a rack individually. 

The Underdog:

He’s the biggest asshole in your friend group, but he means well. He’s the guy you have to explain to every girlfriend. He had a more challenging childhood than you, and he was able to hurdle many of the obstacles that came with a shitty hand. He’s a dick, but he’s a damn good friend. 

The Hot Idiot:

How this guy is employed is beyond you. His numerical knowledge stopped as soon as “x” hit math class. He’s a great guy to go out with because girls will walk over to have a conversation with him, but his social skills are so bad that you genuinely think he could get a few seasons on TLC. When god was making him, he overpoured on looks, and there wasn’t much left for intelligence. His best shot in life is meeting a smart girl with a kink and starting a wellness podcast on her time. It sucks that R/jordanpederson members get the same action as him, but it’s his fault for not reading a book…ever. 

Andrew Breitbart:

As soon as that liquid wheat hits his liver, he’s talking foreign policy. He’s a smart guy, you trust his advice when it comes to history, but shockingly chicks educated at liberal arts schools aren’t exactly turned on when he’s screaming in their face about GETTR. Whoever your staunch republican friend is, he has powerful opinions on crypto. This guy argues for the love of the game. His dreams where he and AOC are in the same room are so vile that RealityKings wouldn’t even produce them. Hanging out with him always leads to you checking your phone to realize it’s four in the morning and you’ve been arguing about the Spanish Armada for three hours. 

The Fringe Friend:

Popularized by Friday Beers, we all know this guy. His Mom was probably the type to make him wear sunscreen during a class field trip in March. Something about him makes you mad, but nothing really should because he’s super nice, and he’s down for whatever at any time. Something about his dumb face makes you grit your teeth, but he also offers to get the Uber every time you’re out with him.

The Five Worst Common College Occurrences:

The Poop: The pray for Kevin Ware poop. It’s 9:37 in the morning, you went HAM on Taco Bell the night before, and you’re sitting lifelessly on the toilet like Michael Irving after that pass across the middle. There’s no hope at the end of the tunnel. Your legs feel like TV static, and your ass is sorer than Tori Black’s walking offset. A terrible, terrible feeling.

Losing The Vape You Just Bought: You just tapped your card to spend more money than you’ve spent on food intake the last three days for an XXL 2,000 puff device that is worth the long-term effects that we will hear about in 2040. You’re sitting in bed, finally comfortable about to get weird on YouTube, and you can’t find it. Despite the fact that it’s bigger than your manhood in freezing temperatures, the damn thing was able to go full Kevin Mccalister on you. You can’t afford a new one, and your friends are all tired of dishing out rips. Rest in peace, soldier.

When the last leg of a parlay doesn’t hit: I don’t bet parlays for the money; I bet them for the bragging rights as most guys do. You just need Butler to pull through and beat Xavier, and then you have an extra $450 to your name, and they can’t do it. Much like Brandon Roy, greatness and a whole lot of money were in your grasp, but you lost it. 

Getting Exposed: Maybe it’s when your YouTube is hooked up to your house’s SmartTV, maybe it’s when your friend asks to change the song on Spotify, or maybe it’s because you knew what a Dyson Air Wrap was when your friend’s girlfriend was talking about it. Why the fuck is Ribs by Lorde your fourth most played song of 2021? DUDE, I DON’T FUCKING KNOW, LEAVE ME ALONE. Why were you YouTubing Jojo Siwa’s net worth? Because I’m curious FUCK OFF. Every single guy has a mix on Spotify that they want to bring to the grave. A mix so chock-full of 2011 Kesha and Taylor Swift that if it got into the wrong hands, GroupMe would look like Pearl Harbor. 

Getting Told What Your Ex Is Up To: Yo, your ex just dropped a pic in Cabo and woah. What is this, the fucking Giver, bro? I don’t want to know what she’s up to. There’s a reason I don’t follow her—some things a man just doesn’t want to know.

Your Drug Dealer’s Retirement Letter:

Dear Consumer,

I’m penning you this letter to inform all of you of my retirement from distributing drugs. It was at my second court-mandated therapy session that I realized that a relationship should be 50/50, and quite frankly, you guys have expected too much from me for too long. What started off as a side hustle of selling individual carts to my little brother’s friends in an Arby’s parking lot has become a nightmare that I can no longer endure. Have I enjoyed stopping at red-lights, pulling out $1200 cash, and recording myself mumbling to Trippie Redd in my used 2006 BMW 3 Series? Sure. But nothing is worth the shit you guys put me through on a weekly basis.

To the guys…how is it I’m only your boy when four of us are packed together in a bathroom stall? Did any of you even listen to my latest SoundCloud mixtape you told me you would all “100% peep?” Often, with you guys it just feels like it’s, “how’s the g?” not, “how IS the g?” When I told you all to longer send snowflake emojis on Venmo, none of you even bothered to listen. When I accepted your pleas to pay the difference on Ca$happ because your Dad only sends you money every two-weeks, almost none of you came through. When the Kappa Sigs needed their molly within the hour of their departure for Bonnaroo, who was there wearing Off-White head to toe, tending to you guys while Snapchatting his seventeen-year-old sidepiece? ME. I’ve been with you guys through every breakup, every Xanax and Lil Peep purge, and all the late-night blow pickups, and all I’ve gotten is a Snapchat list with names of faces I can’t place.

And to the girls…you wouldn’t have gotten that Manscaped sponsorship without my weight-loss methods. I’m always left on open until YOU need something. All I’ve ever wanted was a shorty I could spoil with a Birkin bag, and all I got was occasional roadhead from exiled sorority girls addicted to my Grade A Columbian goods. How much work does a guy need to put on his car to get a text back? Do you even fucking hear how sick my engine purrs? Do you know how heartbreaking it is when you don’t even know my name and my entire exists to you is Plug? 

So I’m done. I hope with time and this new Playboi Carti album, my wounds can heal…but until then, you will no longer see Snapchat stories of my filthy hands caressing a giant bag of weed like it’s a deluxe Costco bag of Pirate Booty.

Sincerely Yours,

Your Drug Dealer

The 5 Different Body Types Guys Have In College:

Kevin Durant in 2007: This kid, who naturally gets drunk quicker than most because he’s a grown man that weighs 128 pounds, loves talking shit in the GroupMe. Once every three weeks, he’ll start some shit, say he’s going to kick somebody’s ass, and is met with an array of photoshops with his face on slender man/the boy in the Striped Pyjamas’ body. His metabolism blows everybody’s mind because he eats so much Takis after ripping a few chops that his fingers are permanently the faint color of red food dye. If he’s tall, he’s either a “where’s my hug at” type weirdo that gets aggressively offended when the soft sixes he invited to a pregame don’t show, or he’s one of those assholes that passed through life naturally good looking. If he’s short, it’s curtains for him. After a Joe Dimmagio type dry spell, he will take as much Xanax as it takes for him to forget that HE’s the one catfishing on Tinder.

The Hardo: One of the best parts of being a guy (other than being able to pee anywhere I want to) is that if there’s a situation where it’s just a group of guys playing die in hot weather, the shirtless guy who’s on a keto diet is the sore thumb. Sure, it might get you laid, but EVERYONE is shitting on you. When you are hardo about your fitness, you really have two choices: go balls deep and make an Instagram fitness account, or keep your fucking shirt on. This isn’t a jealousy thing. This is you playing beer die with a Bonv!v because you’re THAT horny. If this guy isn’t kept in check, and this is NSFW levels of cringe, he’ll have his shirt off at every post-game and claim that it’s because he had to “cool down because of the blow.” Jesus Christ, man, did you have a pledge put fucking oil on you? FOH

I Wear A Rush Shirt To The Gym 3x A Week: The word volatile has been thrown around a lot on the internet today, but that perfectly describes this guy. He’ll be in good shape for four or five days out of the month, get his Tinder pics in after pretending to be really interested in how hardo guy maintains his physique two weeks before spring break, and the ill-defined six-pack he has disappears after his first two Miller Lights. This guy can be scrawny one day and jacked the next, depending on how much money he had to buy food on his Wells Fargo homepage. It’s a slept-on issue that freshmen in college go weeks eating 1200 calories a day, but it’s not good. Once that summer job money runs out, and nicotine is the first priority when you see three figures in your bank account again after Dad’s biweekly Venmo, managing that money is a slippery slope that almost always ends with Ramen. This kid was an athlete in high school that hasn’t completely let himself go, but he’s halfway there.

I Look Forward To Flannel Season: I didn’t want to use the word “Dad Bod” because I’m not a white girl that wears glasses fashionably writing for Buzzfeed, but you catch my drift. This guy is a flannel season BEAST. He put on more than the freshman fifteen, but he’s also in his last round of interviews with JP Morgan, so he doesn’t really give a shit. He’ll HOUSE Panda Express like there is no tomorrow and do curls once a week, and girls will still fuck with him. He looks forward to Winter when he can grow his facial hair out more, and it’ll perfectly complement one of the three sweaters he’s got in the rotation. He’s a HUGE oversized shirt in the summer kind of guy, and he loves shitting on Hardo gym guys with a burning passion. His biggest fear is that the guy above me starts going to the gym more regularly.

I’m Fat and Funny: Beast.

Kids From Boarding School:

Somewhere right now in the hills of Connecticut, a future leader of this country is ripping banana ice flavored puff bar as he adds an EDM remix of Toto to his team’s JV Lacrosse Soundcloud mix. Boarding School kids are an enigma. Pretty much right after getting their first pube, parents shell out college tuition type money for their eighth graders(who just developed the courage to present a Microsoft Powerpoint on the Wright brothers) to…well…get the fuck out of their house. That’s not to say they are living in your typical shitty college dorm. They learn their geometry in living conditions that the average philosophy graduate won’t obtain until age thirty-one. 

The whole lifestyle is almost inexplicable, which may be why every boarding school kid I know showed up to college unphased. Their extensive drug knowledge is so refined that they could tell you what he’s rapping about within any Future song, no matter how obscure. Ah yes, when he says “baptized inside purple Activis,” he actually means that he has drank so much codeine he was baptized in pharmaceutical company Activis’ labs which are locat…. 

Boarding school kids don’t just smoke carts. They have a deep appreciation for them. Dab carts and warm vodka in water bottles is how they got through life…for years. They smoke a cart like my grandmother drinks a glass of wine. They savor it; they tell you where it was made, indica or sativa -hell, I’ve even heard one of them describe a dab cart as “perfectly oaky without being too overbearing.” What in the FUCK does that mean? 

They have a cult-like appreciation for their boys from high school. Mention any city on the east coast, and they will test you on it. Oh, you got a boy from that part of New York? Me too, ask your friend if he knows Devin. If he doesn’t know Devin, then he’s either a fucking loser or he doesn’t live in New York. Devin knows everybody. The experiences of moving from home at such a young age made them develop bonds that I’ve only seen in gangs and military units. That’s not even a diss on greek life, I love the kids in my fraternity, but we have fun together- we never had to come up with schematic plans to fuck girls without getting KICKED OUT of high school. 

Perhaps what I respect most about boarding school kids is that, ironically they are pretty resilient. After all the weird-ass play they had to experience as fifteen-year-olds, they can survive pretty much anywhere. While you and I were getting ripped off by a senior for a warm rack of Natty Light, they had to figure out how to make their lavish campuses with prison rules a fun experience. Make no mistake, there is a method to the madness of sending your child to a boarding school. Like single mothers breed D-1 athletes, boarding schools breed heartless hedge fund managers.

Breaking Down Your Girlfriend’s Friend Group:

I’m a lot like Dale from Horrible Bosses. For as long as I can remember, I’ve been a girlfriend guy(I get a lot of shit for it). And while every girl is different, the dichotomy between the boyfriend and her friends is usually the same. I must preface this by saying that this list is just a general representation of my experiences. It is not uncommon for one girl to represent multiple types of personalities on this list. 

The One That Has To Like You: If your relationship is ever going to survive, you have to get this girl to like you. Odds are she’s been best friends with your girlfriend long before you guys ever met, and she has more power over your girlfriend’s vagina than her OBGYN. Her height measurements are on the door of your girlfriend’s room from when they were seven, she’s been on many of their family vacations, and your girlfriend and her Mom have a Snapchat streak. She’s been cataloging mental research on you since your girlfriend first brought you up three months ago. She’s completed a full scouting report of your Instagram profile and is cognizant of every red flag you might have. You find the relationship between her and your girlfriend outrageous. How in the fuck do two people talk on Facetime about Hydro-flasks for twenty-seven minutes? You have no idea, but your girlfriend seems to enjoy it, so who are you to complain? If this girl likes you, you’ve made an ally for life. Whenever your girl is mad at you, she’s got your back. Did you blackout at your girlfriend’s formal? Well, it’s clearly because you love her, but you have commitment issues…or some bullshit like that. With just a few words, she can bring you back into your girlfriend’s good graces…or fuck you over worse than the CFB committee did to TCU in 2009. I cannot stress enough that if this girl doesn’t like you, she will make your girlfriend feel like she’s going through a Nicole Kidman role level of emotional abuse. It’s an uphill battle that you’re going to lose. So, if you like her, become one of her best friends, and if you don’t, smile through the pain pal. 

The Overly Political One: She’s been on Twitter too much. Two Vodka Seltzers in, and she’s trying to explain to you that the US should align itself with Sweden’s environmental policies. If you agree with her, tell her you agree with her. If you don’t, say nothing. Either way…change the subject.

The Slutty Fun One: It doesn’t matter that you’re 90% positive she has chlamydia, and she just went home with your friend…right now, at 3:17 AM, everybody is having fun. Her private Snapchat story makes you feel like an incel that comments on Instagram videos, “this is why I’m not having a daughter.” She loves a good drinking game, deep house music, and the smell of cocaine. She’s always going to say, “aww Mom and Dad I wish I had a boyfriend like him,” but both you and her both know she really doesn’t. Your girlfriend lives vicariously through this girl’s stories about walking home from some guy’s apartment still dressed up as a slutty Space-Chetah from Halloween…and honestly, you really like her. The only thing that may scare you is that you know that when you guys break up, a weekend with this girl at state school is just what the doctor ordered. 

The Girl You Hate: Most likely, you have a friend that’s a guy’s guy. The fat-funny guy that you see scream at the TV whenever a Pac-12 basketball team dribbles out the last nineteen seconds of regulation time, and the over doesn’t hit. She is the girl version of that. Her hobbies include live-tweeting The Bachelorette and hating men. She’s overly invasive and thinks it’s hilarious that she’s walked in on you guys the other night without knocking. She’s most likely just jealous or an asshole, but either way, it’s on you to self-reflect and realize that you could be two tequila shots away from going on a tirade about how much you hate this bitch. There will always be a middle-school type of tension between you two, but don’t let it get to your head. Don’t give her a reason to be even more annoying. Just keep your head down and check on how your Robinhood portfolio is doing. 

Fringe Friend: It’s not really important that she likes you, but it’s always a plus. She’s the Danny Green of your girlfriend’s friend group, and she’s most likely really quiet. When your girlfriend is talking about her friends, she doesn’t come up much, but you’ll see her every once in a while. She’s most likely not someone that spends too much time with your girlfriend in a small-group setting, so you’ll only see her when the whole friend group is out and about. Perhaps offer her the last Black Cherry Whiteclaw from the fridge or something like that. You pretending you were interested in hearing about her trip to Italy meant a lot to her even though you both know that you didn’t really care…so keep up the small gestures. 

Her Best Guy Friend: It’s a trope that you want this kid to be gay, but that doesn’t really matter…as long as you’re proof positive he doesn’t want to fuck your girlfriend. Your instincts will tell you almost immediately whether or not you like this guy based on various reasons. If he’s a chiller and you both like each other, you’re going to get a sick-ass Christmas present. The best thing you can do is to show no signs of insecurity around this person. Even if you hate this guy, pretend you don’t care that he simps for your girlfriend more than you do. Telling your girlfriend that he’s just trying to fuck her is putting blood in the water. 

Her Friend With Issues: It’s 4:38 AM, and your girlfriend just got a call from a County jail in another state, just as you begin regaining consciousness, you already know who is on the other line. This girl’s life is a trainwreck. She’s had more DUIs in the past year than the Eagles have had injuries. At first, you thought that this girl had to be orchestrating this type of pain on herself, but at some point, you’ll realize she just can’t catch a break. She gives your girlfriend as much anxiety as she had that one time when she was a week late on her period…on a daily-basis. She’s always going through something, so be a helping hand. 

The Perfect One: She’s not overly invasive, but she keeps up with your relationship. She is a great friend to your girlfriend, but she lets you spend as much time with her as you want. When you see her, it’s a breath of fresh air. She’s cool as fuck, and there’s no reason to impress her because, for some reason, she already seems to like you. She’s the one you’re going outside and smoking a dart with at night and the one who’s going to let you drink a quarter of her Gatorade in the morning. What a G.

How To Take A Dick Pic:

Addressing the elephant in the room here: obviously, we are no longer in middle school. The time where we would jump through any amount of hoops to convince the hottest girl on the eighth-grade soccer team to send you a grainy, 3-second picture in a sports bra has long passed. With age comes maturity and with maturity comes spending $23.74 on rounds of lemon-drop shots to swoon a girl you met an hour and a half ago to hop into a Nissan Leaf that’s seven minutes away. However, we are at the height of Coronavirus. Maybe you’re quarantining with a few friends for a week and a half, maybe your parents don’t want you leaving the house, or maybe you just haven’t gotten pussy since people were eating tide pods for a drop of internet clout. Regardless of your situation, chances are you’re giving that girl that’s slightly overweight with a song by the Glass Animals the most unnecessarily aggressive pickup lines that Tinder has ever seen. Brandi Love’s propensity to be a devoted step-mom will only get a man so far,so you’re on the cusp of sending a dick pic for the first time since you played a JV sport…and here’s how to properly do it using the AMSS system.

Assess The Situation: You’re old enough to know if this girl wants to see what you’re working with. If your conversations have surpassed talking about her ambitions of becoming a dentist’s assistant and you’re deep into describing whether or not she likes a pinky in the butt… it’s time for blastoff. But you can’t just be the Andrew Wiggins of dick pics. In your horny mind, there may not be consequences after you send an unsolicited dick pic and block that chick on Snapchat, but it’s 2021… there’s consequences for making your daughter open a can of beans by herself. If you’ve established you have the green light; it’s time for prep. If you’re a lotion guy, it’s time to maneuver some sort of workstation. If you’re a spit guy, it’s time to approach this next ten minutes with the same level of preparation an AP Chemistry teacher has before a lab.

Make It Look Pretty: Nothing is particularly aesthetically pleasing about the male body. Now’s your chance to take some hacks in the batter’s box. If you haven’t already gone from six to twelve, now would be the time to call upon your good friend Cory Chase. You want to make sure you’re watching SOME porn, but you can’t get sucked in. My suggestion is to wait until she gets stuck in the dryer and then swipe(click the home button if you’re poor) the fuck out of Safari. Now it’s time to see if your Johnson is feeling photogenic today. If you’re in a cold room, evacuate to the bathroom immediately. This is your prep time. 

Shoot Your Shot: That girl from eight miles away that sent you a picture of her in a black bralette is Gordon Ramsey, and your penis is seared scallops. You’re on the clock now. You need to be switching back and forth from Snapchat to Safari with the ferocity of a coked-up ’80s stock-broker. There is no room for Andy Reid esque mismanagement of the clock. You need to make sure you don’t come before you see everything you’re doing this for. This is why we play. If your phone is dropping on your face or the floor or worse yet…the toilet, you need to be on high alert. You can’t lose a month’s worth of rent seeing a girl with her Zodiac sign in her Tinder bio play with her titties.

Separate Entirely: “You see, she thinks she’s broken through my tough exterior and coerced affection from a man who was afraid to love. And then I slink out into the night, never to talk to her again” -Dennis Reynolds. It’s time for a Thank You snap text and a nap. You deserve it. 

Addressing the elephant in the room here: obviously, we are no longer in middle school. The time where we would jump through any amount of hoops to convince the hottest girl on the eighth-grade soccer team to send you a grainy, 3-second picture in a sports bra has long passed. With age comes maturity and with maturity comes spending $23.74 on rounds of lemon-drop shots to swoon a girl you met an hour and a half ago to hop into a Nissan Leaf that’s seven minutes away. However, we are at the height of Coronavirus. Maybe you’re quarantining with a few friends for a week and a half, maybe your parents don’t want you leaving the house, or maybe you just haven’t gotten pussy since people were eating tide pods for a drop of internet clout. Regardless of your situation, chances are you’re giving that girl that’s slightly overweight with a song by the Glass Animals the most unnecessarily aggressive pickup lines that Tinder has ever seen. Brandi Love’s propensity to be a devoted step-mom will only get a man so far,so you’re on the cusp of sending a dick pic for the first time since you played a JV sport…and here’s how to properly do it using the AMSS system.

Assess The Situation: You’re old enough to know if this girl wants to see what you’re working with. If your conversations have surpassed talking about her ambitions of becoming a dentist’s assistant and you’re deep into describing whether or not she likes a pinky in the butt… it’s time for blastoff. But you can’t just be the Andrew Wiggins of dick pics. In your horny mind, there may not be consequences after you send an unsolicited dick pic and block that chick on Snapchat, but it’s 2021… there’s consequences for making your daughter open a can of beans by herself. If you’ve established you have the green light; it’s time for prep. If you’re a lotion guy, it’s time to maneuver some sort of workstation. If you’re a spit guy, it’s time to approach this next ten minutes with the same level of preparation an AP Chemistry teacher has before a lab.

Make It Look Pretty: Nothing is particularly aesthetically pleasing about the male body. Now’s your chance to take some hacks in the batter’s box. If you haven’t already gone from six to twelve, now would be the time to call upon your good friend Cory Chase. You want to make sure you’re watching SOME porn, but you can’t get sucked in. My suggestion is to wait until she gets stuck in the dryer and then swipe(click the home button if you’re poor) the fuck out of Safari. Now it’s time to see if your Johnson is feeling photogenic today. If you’re in a cold room, evacuate to the bathroom immediately. This is your prep time. 

Shoot Your Shot: That girl from eight miles away that sent you a picture of her in a black bralette is Gordon Ramsey, and your penis is seared scallops. You’re on the clock now. You need to be switching back and forth from Snapchat to Safari with the ferocity of a coked-up ’80s stock-broker. There is no room for Andy Reid esque mismanagement of the clock. You need to make sure you don’t come before you see everything you’re doing this for. This is why we play. If your phone is dropping on your face or the floor or worse yet…the toilet, you need to be on high alert. You can’t lose a month’s worth of rent seeing a girl with her Zodiac sign in her Tinder bio play with her titties.

Separate Entirely: “You see, she thinks she’s broken through my tough exterior and coerced affection from a man who was afraid to love. And then I slink out into the night, never to talk to her again” -Dennis Reynolds. It’s time for a Thank You snap text and a nap. You deserve it.

The Six Guys You Will Find In Every Fraternity:

The Greasy DJ: On almost every college campus, you can find a kid sporting an e-boy haircut that’s personality can best be described by two things: the 8-ball of blow in his left pocket and the nine-hundred dollar mixer his Mom bought him for Christmas two years ago. While everyone else in the room is talking about the line on this Sixers game, he’s painstakingly trying to get a puff bar out of his skin tight black jeans, rambling to some poor pledge about how his experience rolling to Dombresky for the first time changed his outlook on life. His entire clothing repertoire is strictly black jeans and white tee shirts, yet he spends more money on clothes than any other guy you’ve ever met. He’ll spend his entire college career pedaling blow to desperate freshmen to invest in better DJ equipment so he can open for an Eastern European EDM artist nobody has ever heard of for ten minutes on a Wednesday. Nine times out of ten, this kid is from one of the coasts, and he’s HUGE into clout chasing. If he doesn’t have bottle service girls on his Snapchat story for one weekend, his friends from high school will DM you asking if he died or got arrested. While the boys are tossing dye, he’s buried in his phone, meticulously calculating what his “moves” for tonight are. Everybody knows he’s a tool, but for some inexplicable reason, he’s your friend…you also don’t mind being a plus one whenever he gets a free table.

Karl Marx: Freshman year, this kid was a completely different person. He was a charismatic cokehead that would always do the dumbest shit possible when a camera was on him. He’s been on TFM, OldRow, and your school’s Barstool page twice. Then…something happened to him. It was either a philosophical acid trip or flying too close to the sun with an overdose, but he has not been the same since. He doesn’t open GroupMe for months at a time, and the only time you saw him last semester was when he was Vietnamese Pho with his Aquarius girlfriend. In the last seven months, he’s gotten four tattoos. You don’t hang out with him anymore, and it’s not because you aren’t happy that he’s transformed his life; you just don’t feel like having a forty-five-minute conversation about the benefits of Ayahuasca. After getting really into the life of Karl Marxx, he’ll end up leaving college to move out to LA and work at a Hemp frozen yogurt shop.

The Legacy Bid: It doesn’t matter which chapter, it doesn’t matter which school, this kid is in every fucking fraternity house across the country. He’s the fucking worst. He has the social skills of somebody on the spectrum, but he thinks everybody loves him. A couple of months ago, you were about to wheel a girl back to your place when he drunkenly stumbled over to you and mansplained how WSB profited off of GME until she walked away. This guy is always too fucking touchy. His go-to move is putting his arm around somebody and saying, I just want you to know you’re my fucking brother and I’d do fucking anything for you, with intense eye contact. You and your boys debate whether or not deep down he understands that nobody likes him, and sometimes you’ll even feel bad until he finds a way to make himself MORE unlikeable. This kid owns more shirts with his letters on them than Hedeki Matsui owns porn CDs. He’s herpes. You find a way to not deal with him often, but when he comes around your circle, the flair-up is awful. He’ll have his fraternity letters in his bio three years after graduation.

Bob From The Other Guys: This poor motherfucker thinks that being the president of his fraternity will be worth the Linkedin flex, and it most definitely will not. You’ll never meet a soul that says a bad thing about this kid other than pointing attention to the fact he’s kind of a pussy. Once every semester, he’ll throw his hands up, get blacked out, and the next day’s GroupMe will be one for the ages. Between the bullshit he has to put up with on exec board and his girlfriend, who for some reason is always a raging bitch, this guy is perpetually stressed out. Letting loose for him is taking two rips of his dab pen before falling asleep to Pardon My Take. He’s most likely going to be the best man at like six weddings, and every sorority knows and likes him. Just remember one thing: if he’s mad at you, it’s probably your fault. 

Tinman: On paper, this kid is fucking awesome. Four-year varsity starter in high school, good-looking, and he’s got deep pockets. The only issue… he’s really fucking stupid. He understands sarcasm about as much as you understand the clitoris. He’s always talking about how he’s failing school, and the sad part is… he’s really trying his hardest. This motherfucker studied the Greek Alphabet harder than you studied for the ACTs. He’s the guy that girls approach first, but he can’t close because he’s got the game of a divorced dad in gambling debt. You find yourself wondering how he’ll go through life with his intelligence until you remember his Dad has worked for JP Morgan since South Park first aired on television. 

Chris Farley: This motherfucker hasn’t gotten pussy since the day he came out of one. He’s a gambling degenerate who yugs twenty-one beers for Monday night football like it’s nothing. He’s overweight, charismatic, and he thinks nut-taping is the epitome of comedy. This is the kind of guy that LOVES quoting Borat mid-chapter meeting. There’s no other way to describe him other than a guy’s guy. If you walk into his room at any time, there’s going to be plastic cups of Canes sauce spread across his desk. He knows more about football than Tony Romo, and he’s no stranger to punching holes into the wall after Jerry Jeudy drops the touchdown that would’ve saved the over. Deep down, he’s probably got some issues, but he does a great job of keeping his emotions close to the vest. Check-in on this guy when you get a chance.

The Best and Worst Summer Jobs:

I always hated when people above the age of twenty-five complained about life moving too fast and hangovers getting worse, but I never thought it would catch me. As a rising senior in college (5th possible 6th year option with franchise tag available), I feel like I got roofied by life recently. I mean, Jesus fucking Christ, my Mom just asked me if I would chaperone my sister and her friends at Gov Ball this September. Thinking about my little sister going to the same event where like four of my boys rolled molly for the first time is an absolute mindfuck. At my age, people will put a lot of pressure on you to land a summer internship. I’m at the point in life where my Instagram feed is about to be pictures of girls in the city they’re living in this summer with a caption along the lines of, “Nashville I’m not worthy 🥺.” If you landed an internship for this summer, hats off to you. I started as an intern for TFM last summer, and look at us now…we sold six of these.

But I don’t think anybody should feel pressured to work somewhere just to add some experience on their Linkedin. I don’t judge a twenty-three-year-old for scooping ice cream or working at a summer camp, and if you do, you’re a pompous asshole. I’ve been working summer jobs since I was fourteen, I’ve worked plenty of them, so from my experience here’s a list of my DO and DO NOTs for traditional jobs you might see a college kid working for beer money.

DO NOT: Cutco

For those of you unfamiliar with Cutco, consider yourself lucky. But if you have a friend, or have had a friend that started selling Cutco knives for beer money, listened to too much Gary Vee’s podcast in his car, and is now a walking Trevor Wallace skit, I feel your pain. Cutco is a knife company that basically makes Sam’s Club esque knives. In all honesty, the knives are pretty high quality, but it’s their marketing strategy that makes them the absolute worst. Cutco buys information for seventeen to nineteen-year-olds from shady date-brokers, recruits kids who just graduated high school, and gives them insane commission on sales. Which, you guessed it, would lead any eighteen-year-old with a dick and a Linkedin account to believe that they’re the next titan Chamath Palihapitiya (king). I can’t shame Cutco guys for scheming money off their friend’s rich parents, but I draw the line when they refer to themselves as entrepreneurs. Guilting bored suburban women with Xanax prescriptions and this sign hanging out in their yard isn’t entrepreneurship

it’s stealing candy from a baby. Fuck you, stop trying to guilt my Mom into buying your shitty knives. 

DO: Summer Camp

The only place where there’s more sexual tension around a bonfire at summer camp is in the counselors quarters. Unless, of course, you’re working at a boy scout camp. Yeah… don’t fucking do that. You may think working at summer camp is a job meant for girls, but that’s where you’re wrong. From experience, I can tell you being a straight male working a summer camp is shooting fish in a fucking barrel. You’ll be using the CPR training way more once the kids have curfew instead of the cafeteria. And let’s call a spade a spade. If a kid has a nut allergy, he kind of deserves what’s coming to him. No seventeen-year-old is about to play doctor on something covered in snot and sunscreen. If you have even a little bit of patience with children, I can’t recommend this job enough.

DO: Drive Doordash

You can literally make just as much as any of the minimum wage employees on this list, AND you can make your hours. Odds are, seventy percent of you reading this right now didn’t completely pay for the car they’re driving, so who gives a shit about the deteriorating value. It’s quick, it’s easy, and if you like driving, it’s enjoyable. 

DO NOT: Ice Cream Parlor

You know what might be considered an unpleasant work environment? Working in a goddamn refrigerator the one season, you’re getting sunburnt on a boat all day. I’ve never worked this job, but I can’t imagine how sore my wrist would be. I get fatigued after two minutes of fingering someone, I don’t think I could handle the Sherbert line at 7:30 on a Friday. If I’m going to be cold and pale, I’d at least want to work somewhere that can give me a little more than minimum wage. 

DO: Beach Lifeguard

I’m hesitant about whether this should be a “Do” or a “Do not.” If I’m considering this as a do, I’m considering this the worst do on this list. This is the Daniel Jones of summer jobs. It’s not great…but it’s not terrible? I worked as a beach lifeguard for two summers. Whenever the experience wasn’t great, it was completely of my own doing. Staying up drinking until 3AM every night is not ideal at a job where you have to swim in cold water every morning. As a beach lifeguard, this job will keep you in shape. It was the only thing that combated the four cheesy gordita crunches I would crush the night before. If you’re from the midwest, you will not understand this one that much, so I’m sorry. Lifeguard “teams” or whatever you want to call them also have great camaraderie. It’s like one big family where you have to be a dick to little kids minding their own business outside of the green flags. The worst part of the job is by far the tole sitting on a wooden bench all day will have on your ass. I went home every day feeling like I had ass-scoliosis; it’s awful. 

DO NOT: Pool Lifeguard

You are a sitting insurance policy. The job is fucking brutally boring. We use solitary confinement as a way to punish people that murder, so yeah, I don’t think sitting in a chair all day telling kids to stop doing backflips is worth twelve bucks an hour. If you have already accepted this position, I will advise to find a rotation of podcasts IMMEDIATELY. Maybe even mine. 

DO: Drug Dealer

Flexible hours? Check. Avoiding taxes? Check. Having more on your cashapp than your friends do in their bank account? Check. Sure, there’s some assumed risk in this line of business, but if you can be sharp and get over that hump, it’s probably the best summer job you could ask for. Your office is your Snapchat, your “high-tempo marketing strategy” is you digging your hands through a pirate-booty-sized bag of weed, and your demand is always high. There’s no asshole boss and unlimited sick days. Pretty fucking sweet. 

5 Ways Guys Deal With Breakups:

Going Through It: It doesn’t matter what it is; as long as the pill is green, this guy’s been taking it since she left him. The definition of dudes down bad, his ex-girlfriend of three weeks has been going out at night with a vengeance. She could go to another school with a Snapchat story that would make you think she’s shooting a scene on Blacked rather than being a bar patron for two-dollar Lemon Drop shot night, or she could be flaunting her carelessness in front of his face. Either way, your whole friend group is tired of hearing Lil Peep blast from his shower, and the grace period for the dabs he’s been taking free of charge is just about over, it’s time to get this guy back on the horse. Not to mention, he’s been an absolute menace with your dry-wall. Take the pills away out of his hand and get this man to a Dave & Busters ASAP. Have you ever seen anybody depressed in Dave & Busters? Me neither. 

Unfazed: This guy wanted out of the relationship anyway and didn’t know it. He’s easy-going, lazy, and really really fucking dumb. He’s your friend that gets mind blown whenever @weird_factss comes across on his Instagram explorer page. Yo, did you know Pablo Escobar spent $2,500 a month on bands to hold his money? That’s fucking crazy, bro. His ex will over-examine pretty much everything he does because she’ll think he’s mysterious when in reality, he’s the bar-tard that doesn’t know how to work the Keurig in your kitchen. The only reason he was in a relationship, to begin with, was because he figured it was convenient sex without spending time or money playing the field, but boy, was he wrong. 

Scottie Pippen: She’s made him binge watch seven seasons of Love Island, treats him like he’s an accessory as opposed to a human, and every time they fight, he claims he’s finally done with her shit…but guess who’s walking out of your house two-weeks later in his sweatshirt? He’s pussy whipped. Maybe he’s not the best-looking guy, and maybe he’s got anxiety. Whatever it may be, his on-again-off-again girlfriend is taking advantage of his weaknesses. There’s a reason I have him down as Scottie Pippen, folks, she’s chewed this man and spit him out a fuck load of times. He knows deep down he’s unhappy, but he keeps going back to that mousetrap of a pussy. My best advice: stop trying to give this guy advice. The more you tell him how much his girlfriend sucks, the more he’ll want to stay with her to prove you wrong.

Pathetic: It’s been nine months, dude. She’s not posting pictures of her formal date to make you jealous, you’re just a fucking psychopath. The five-inch pocket rocket your cooking with wasn’t enough to have her in shambles over the split, and that was a detrimental blow to your ego. When you’re out with the guys calling her a “fucking cunt,” and a “gross slut,” you’re forgetting to mention that you wound up on Summer 2019 of her VSCO last night. I’m not saying I don’t ride with my kings, but this guy is too much of a douche for me to tolerate.

Holding The Line: This guy lost a girl that he really loved. They were a great couple, but extraordinary circumstances came up, and the relationship was no longer feasible. He’s probably optimistic that they’ll end up together “in another life,” but that’s not the case right now. Stay strong, king. We love you.