Cheesy Stock Photos of Toasting

When I did a Google Image search for toasting, I thought I was going to see some wild New Year’s Eve pictures of people partying hard. Instead, most of the results were cheesy stock photos 0f people toasting with big, fake smiles on their faces. Do you want a stock photo of a working woman toasting her boss or of some drunk girls toasting at a bar? Well we have both, and a lot more silly stock photos of toasts. Read More »


Candy Dish: Links for a Lazy Sunday

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This game is the sh*t! But more addicting than crack: you’ve been warned.

Maxim sums up basically the best gifts of all time for your Dad/Grad.

Charlie Sheen Marries an “Easy” Woman. Obviously.

I feel so bad for this guy. But not bad enough to find his situation completely hilarious.

Watermelon Bombe: It’s not what you’re thinking.

But This Is! Cheers!

Audrina from back in the day. Hot or Not?

Jennifer Aniston is a pothead?! Am I the last person on earth to realize this?!

You don’t have to be rich and white to like SATC...just don’t expect to see yourself represented.

Superhero Fashion: kinda flamboyant. Oh, wait, did I say kinda? I meant VERY.


Underrated Memories: Last Call in College

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It’s always a toss-up to say what the best part of an evening out is. Pregame and preparation are always fun, but last call is just a crucial part of a night out, especially when you’re going to school in the Midwest and the town closes down at about 2 AM.

You can really get a sense of the type of establishment you’ve been frequenting by learning what it closes with each night. In New York, sometimes a sick sense of accomplishment coincides with every last call you actually make it to. 4 AM is much easier said than done when you’ve been trained to turn in after 2. Sometimes, though, regardless of the time, you’re going to get the same gratification.

What’s sad is that no one actually NEEDS that final drink at last call, but everyone panics all the same, as though they haven’t been drinking all night anyway.

By far, on my undergrad campus, the favorite establishments were moderately-to-very dirtball bars filled with a slightly frat-tastic crowd of kids, and sometimes bartenders in basketball shorts. Some of said frat boys were known to wear sweatpants on the rare occasion. But the best part of these bars was the unquestionable fact that come 2 AM, the lights would flicker on and the speakers would be blasting either Journey’s “Don’t Stop Believing” or “The Gambler” by Kenny Rogers, depending on which venue you had chosen for the night. Read More »