“The Princess”

Relax and rejoice if a Princess appears in your lineup. This lady lacks game knowledge and proper pong skills. She sips her beer, begs for re-dos, and bursts out laughing—nonstop. A Pong Princess’ scandalous attire flaunts her assets, which she uses as a distraction mechanism during matches. Should she make a cup, prepare yourself for a high-pitched squeal and slutty victory dance.

“The Pro”

Beware of The Pro when it comes to beer pong. These players suck the joy from the fun-spirited sport. Their by-the-book play sobers your pregame—not OK. The resolution: Drink every time The Pro throws a rule-abiding bitch fit. You’ll down your beer quicker, and be ready to hit the bars sooner. There is only one way to permanently shutdown a Pro: strip them of their title. Trust me, nothing feels better.

“The Cheapskate”

They’re the life of the party, but tighter than a pair True Religions. Like clockwork, your local Cheapskate shows up every Saturday sans-invitation, thirsty and empty-handed. He then maneuvers around your kitchen like it’s his own, helping himself to a couple of cold ones. Here’s a tip, Cheapskate: Have people over to your place for once. Or, splurge on a case of Bud Light instead of bumming beers off your bros, yet again.

“The Partial Player”

Enter, the Partial Player. This guy or gal claims to be better when blackout, and has a bullshit excuse for every air ball and bad bounce. Fonder of other drinking games like flip cup, they lose interest during drawn-out games. Despite these drawbacks, a Partial Player can be clutch. Maybe they’re really good at hitting lone cups. Or, perhaps their potty mouth is perfect for psyching out competition. Either way, their limited table talent can come in handy.

“The Trash Talker”

We all know one, or twelve. Trash Talkers turn up the testosterone level by claiming to be your university’s pong master. They brag about whom they beat and reflect on how rarely they re-racked. So what, they ran the table at last weekend’s toga party. No one cares. But a true Trash Talker doesn’t let anyone forget about a six-game winning streak. Shut them up by giving them a taste of their own medicine.

While we can’t predict if your invitees will go gaga over a hand-carved ice luge, we can give you the answers to throwing an absolutely awesome house party.

1. Invest in a variety of alcohol…and lots of it

Nothing says lame party like the house that runs out of alcohol before midnight.  People at parties have this great habit of making a drink, holding onto it for five minutes, and then forgetting about their cup and pouring another drink.  Therefore, buy more.  It is absolutely okay to get cheap vodka and cheap rum if that means that more people can drink it.  You and your friends will have the leftover alcohol to use for the rest of the year.  If you need a guide, there are 17 shots in a fifth and 40 shots in handle.

2. Don’t forget the beer!

Even if you aren’t a beer drinker, a party without a keg means no flip cup, no beer pong, and a larger chance that someone will throw up in your house, since hard alcohol drinks will get people drunk faster than beer.  Set up the keg in the corner somewhere, and make sure you have lots of cups.

3. Jungle Juice and Jello Shots

In my personal opinion, Jello shots are awesome and fun for a few people, but if you are having a party with over 75 people, they are a waste of good alcohol and a waste of money that can be spent elsewhere.  However, Jungle Juice is easy to make, can be made as strong or as weak as you want, and minimizes the amount that people pour their own drinks into cups, helping you somewhat monitor how much they are drinking and how much alcohol is consumed

4. Make an awesome playlist

Have you ever been to a party where all of a sudden the Pokemon theme song comes on?  I’ve hosted this party.  Make an exceptionally long playlist with every song that people might want to hear at a party so that nothing embarrassing happens to you…putting your iPod on shuffle is the kiss of death. Need help? Check out these great suggestions!

5. Lock up your iPod or Computer in a room on the first floor

Because parties are all over Facebook these days and it is likely that some people you don’t know are going to show up to your house and drink your alcohol.  While this isn’t really a big deal, you would rather be safe than sorry when it comes to your valuables.  Take it from someone who had her iPod stolen during welcome week…lock the iPod in your room, and plug it into speakers or an extension cord that you can wire under the door.

6. And while your on it, get rid of your food

Reeses Puffs.  Pretzels.  M&Ms.  A bottle of Sangria.  All things that I have seen stolen at various parties.  Drunk people are hungry people and hungry people will raid your fridge and your cabinets.  Make sure that you’ve stashed anything important in your room, and if you are able to lock your fridge, by all means, just do it.

7. What goes on Facebook is there for everybody to see

If you want a smaller party with only people you know, try to make it a private event on Facebook.  Otherwise, it is really hard to dictate who comes through your front door and figure out who is a “friend of a friend” versus who “just got bored and saw a party and wanted free alcohol.” Also, a lot of school’s have their public safety guys cruise Facebook looking for open events where they can bust underage drinkers.

8. Invite your close friends to pregame

It’s a good idea to have 20 people or so at your house at the beginning of the night.  Nothing is more awkward than starting the night with your four roommates and 10 people from freshmen year who you haven’t spoken to since then.  Having people who you know at your house early makes it less awkward when your less close friends stop by, and also is an easy way to start your party.

9. And the last thing…ending the party

If it is 4am and you still have some stragglers, turn off the music, start cleaning, start putting things away…these people will get the idea….

Any other advice for first time party throwers? Any questions for the party experts? Share below! And feel free to check out our insider’s guide to the college party scene.

Being famous seems pretty fabulous, and if you want to get up to the level of Mark, ole’ Snooks, or even Paris, who’s always on top in her video and off, college is the place to start.  If you think running for office, being involved in multiple organizations, or leading your sorority is going to get you famous, it’s not. Don’t be a fool. To get your 15 minutes of fame, you’re going to need to step it up. If you do, those 15 minutes could turn into much more. Like your very own, crappy reality television show.

Streak.
The most epic of all ways to get your 15 minutes of fame in college is to go streaking. I’m not talking about drinking a few too many then running down your street at 3:00 in the morning when no one’s around. I’m talkin’ leaving your clothes on the sidelines of the biggest basketball game of the season and running across the court. You may end up going to jail, but you’ll look darn good in your mug shots.

Get With Every Member of the Football Team.
You’re bound to be the topic of everyone’s conversation after you’ve scored a touch down with every single football player at your school. If you don’t feel like letting them all have it, make sure you at least get with the starters. Yes, you will be the newly-acclaimed school skank, but it’s so worth it.

Drop your Tray in the Dining Center.
We have all seen that person. The one that fills their tray with loads of the lovely dining center’s processed junk and trips, sending the heaps of mashed potatoes, hot dogs, and tots flying across the room. The sound of plates breaking sends everyone’s heads turning in their direction. It’s hilarious— and you end up talking about that person for the rest of your dinner.  Little do you realize, that person just became famous. Maybe not in the way that the person would have hoped, but it happened.

Start a Food Fight.
Take it to the next level. Dropping your tray and flinging food all over is cool, but if it’s not on accident, it’s so much cooler. Pick out the most disgusting food (preferably things that are easy to fling on a spoon), and start the greatest food fight in the history of your school. Sure, this will get you into huge trouble, but it will be a great story to tell the kids someday.

Throw the Party of the Year.
This can’t be just any party. We’re talkin’ the kind of party where you wake up in the morning to find half of your attendees passed out in your front lawn. Where your house is so trashed that there’s no way it’s even safe to live there until you hire a professional team of men wearing gas masks to come clean it out. This party will go down in history, and so will you. Oh, and don’t forget the cheese puffs.

Whether you’ve had your 15 minutes or not, it’s probably not a good idea to actually take our advice unless you want to end up in the slammer. But either way, we want to hear about it! Have you gotten your 15 minutes of fame in college? If not, what are you going to do to get it?

[Everyone’s got a morning after story (though most don't involve a Harry Potter references?) and we wanna hear yours! Send it over to us and we’ll post it – anonymously, of course – right here!]

It was my first night of freshman year. After my parents finished helping me unpack and hugged me goodbye, I had only one thing on my mind: to get drunk that night. What can I say? I happen to attend one of the schools that consistently makes the Princeton Review’s list of biggest party schools every year (OU, Oh YEAH!) and I had high expectations for my first night out and about. Also, unlike my fellow freshmen, I knew some older kids from high school and had a solid invite to house party. Score.

In honor of the occasion, I insisted that my new roommate and I start the night by taking shots of 140 proof absinthe I’d smuggled back from Europe. Needless to say, we were both pretty trashed before we’d even left the dorm. Not that that fact stopped us from downing the endless cans of Keystone Light that were handed to us throughout the night.

As we left the party, trashed beyond all measures, myself already having broken my shoes, neither of us was looking forward to the trek home. Luckily, one of my guy friends from high school offered to walk us back. He claimed he wanted to make sure we got home safely, but he didn’t do much to help as I fell flat on my back in the middle of the sidewalk.

But it wasn’t until we got back to the dorm that the real trouble started.

During the move, my dad methodically set up my new loft bed so that my roommate and I would have more room in our absolutely tiny dorm room. I thought it was a great idea at the time….until I realized the difficulty in climbing into bed after a few (or far more than a few) cocktails.

Flash forward to my roommate pushing my butt up the ladder as I grabbed the frame of my bed to pull my drunk ass up. I didn’t know at the time, but the frame wasn’t secured to the loft, just heavy and set on top of it with the mattress on it. I somehow managed to dislodge it and the entire loft came crashing down on us. Instead of freaking out/calling for help/doing anything at all, my roommate simply got into her own bed as I tried, by myself, to push my loft back to a point where I could sleep on it.

Eventually I gave up, pulled my blankets onto the ground and made a nest for myself. The next morning, after waking up and reliving the entire evening via my roommate’s hazy memory, we got a few boys from the hall to help us put the loft back together. (Great ice breaker!) Then I spent the next few weeks working tirelessly to master the art of getting into that loft while drunk. It took some time and a few more late night spills, but I finally got the hang of it sometime near Thanksgiving.

Looking back, it’s hard to believe 1) that this all happened on my first night of college, 2) that I survived my night of college, and 3) that my roommate and I actually became best friends. But it did, I did and we did. And for that, I. love. college.

[A special thanks to our anonymous reader for submitting this hilarious and horrifying tale. Want more? Check out our other cringe-worthy Morning After stories.]

So I’m 3 weeks into my bright college years, and in between realizing that I have Spanish homework to do at 1 in the morning and figuring out how trash piles up so quickly when clearly I took out the garbage like, a day ago, there are plenty of Solo cups and pregaming parties to keep my thoughts occupied.

In the past year, I passed through the rookie stage of drinking. You know, getting over the fact that drinking isn’t such a big deal after all (I know some may beg to differ, which I totally respect, but step off for a sec, darlings) and then advancing into classic teen movie, drink up mode. It was like I was Cady Heron (a la Mean Girls) being de-innocentized, except minus The Plastics. There were chill house parties, high-ish quality alcohol bought by nice older siblings, and then classic senior year, I-don’t-give-a-f**k debauchery. Getting to a stage of happy drunk was part of the whirlwind of senior year and really, part of the fun. But I was good about it – no blacking out and never even vomiting.

So coming to college, I was under the impression that it would be the same, but something about drinking here just doesn’t feel settling to me. The glowy halo of happiness that surrounded drinking just totally disappeared.

I know, totally weird, right? Because, like, obviously drinking is much simpler here. There aren’t quite as many repercussions when you get caught, alcohol is pretty much readily available, and the number of boys who you would willingly drunkenly hook-up with has gone through the freakin’ roof.

But for some reason, after 3 weekends worth of pregaming and taking LMFAO seriously (shots! shots! shots!), I just don’t know if drinking is as worth it in college.

I mean, I don’t want to stumble around being known forever as That Girl. Also, both my roommate and I are mistaken for drunk when we aren’t drunk at all just due to our normal personalities, so I figured that adding drinking on top of that was unnecessary. And who needs the extra calories of a few cans of beer? Not I – the dining hall fries are good enough for me.

So I tested out this whole not drinking business last weekend, and surprise, life was perfectly grand. I had a Hollywood caliber night minus a Lindsay Lohan caliber hangover the next morning and I honestly don’t feel like I missed out on much. Debauchery? Check. Dancing? Check. Dudes? Check. I’ve got everything I need.
I’m not saying that I don’t condone drinking – I do, but I’m just not feelin it right now. And I’m not sue I ever will.

Alcohol free for the rest of freshman year? Maybe.

No one likes a hot mess.  Okay, well that’s not exactly true.  We looove LocaLohan and anyone who has been an E! True Hollywood Story, but when it comes to college it’s best to leave the crazy work to the professionals.

This means your roommate doesn’t want to disrobe your unconscious body at 3 a.m., the girls down the hall don’t want to carry you naked into the shower, and you don’t want to clean up your vom from under the bed the following morning.  The first week of school is when you’ll be at your most susceptible to making such novice mistakes.  You’re new, you’ve yet to fall victim to the Freshman Fifteen, and the older guys are taking full notice of these facts.

Stay in your hallmates’ good graces and prevent the puke with these oh-so-simple drinking Dos and Don’ts…

Do Eat a Good Dinner
I get it, you want to stay fit.  That’s what the gym is for, not the salad bar before a night of hitting up the frat houses.  You won’t make it two cups of jungle juice into the night before feeling the need to call it quits if you’re entree was a handful of green beans.  (Except, let’s get real.  You won’t call it quits.  You’ll switch to beer and keep on drinkin’ til you’re hugging the toilet.)  Instead, eat the damn turkey sandwich.  And grab a side of fries, too.

Pregame in Moderation
Everyone knows “that” girl, and I bet you’ll get to know her pretty quickly, too.  She’s the girl who pounds shots at 8 p.m. and is passed out next to a trash basket while everyone else is adjusting their hair and getting ready to gallivant.  The guys won’t touch her for fear she’ll projectile on their classy posters and girls don’t want her booting on their boots.  It’s all right to know that girl, just don’t be that girl.

Mix and Mingle, Just Don’t Mix While You Mingle
Bottom line: pick a drink and stick to it.  If you love rum, then BYO and grab some Cokes off a willing dude.  If beer’s more your thing, know there will be kegs everywhere.  Like something a bit fruitier- frat house mystery mixes are delish and “hey baby, you can barely taste the booze.”  But beware not to do a taste test of all available liquids lest you become the human puke machine.

Know Your Limit
So you’re drunk.  Congratulations!  What now?  The party’s not over, and you don’t feel like going home.  Hell, you feel like dancing around that pole you spotted in the basement.  Before you do, take a quick reading:

1. Stand still.  Is the room spinning?
2. Can you feel your tongue?
3. How many times per minute do you flip your hair?

If you answered, “Omigod, how did I get on a boooooaaat!”, “Whyzmahmoutallnumb?”, and “Whatever.  So what if I have long flowing locks like Tyra Banks?”, then guess what kiddo – you’re dunzo.

And as a seasoned house partier, here are some tips to help you survive the first big house party of the year:

Do show up fashionably late.  Nothing in the college party scene starts before 10:30pm.  And nothing says freshman more than showing up at the party at 9pm eager for the festivities to start.  You are not in high school anymore!  So please, if you want to look like you know what’s going on, pre-drink in your room don’t show up until after 11pm.  Trust me, you won’t miss a thing. In fact, you’ll get there just as the party gets pumpin’.

Don’t wear heels! If you’re going to a house party, you will be way overdressed.  House parties attract all types of people and there will most likely be hundreds of them there.  Large amounts of grinding people means hot temperatures.  You will be sweating…profusely! So for those back-to-school bashes, leave your new skinny jeans at home and wear shorts, a cute flowy tank top or even a sundress, and sandals. You’ll thank me later, when the floor is filled with mud (or questionable bodily fluids) and your favorite suede pumps are ruined!

Do get your creative juices flowing. Theme parties are super popular in college.  Whether you’re attending a Toga party, ABC party, the Beer Olympics (the list goes on and on…), get creative with your costume.  I’ll guarantee you’ll be the talk of the night (and for the right reasons).   That’s not such a bad thing, eh?

Don’t bring a posse of boys.  It sounds shallow, but college dudes hate when a girl shows up with an entourage of men.  Here’s something lame, if you show up with a bunch of guys (and they didn’t bring their own alcohol) they may not let you in! This means no free drinks, and not even batting your full, voluminous lashes will get you out of that one.  Of course, your guy friends are welcome at the party, but be smart—walk into the party first.  A sure-fire-way of getting into the party is to show up with a bunch of your girlfriends. Nothing else will make those single college boys happier.

Do befriend the house owners.  You will get special treatment—the first to know about house parties, better booze, and – just in case – a special hideout place when the Po Po come to break up the party.  Take my word for it: just saying hi a couple times or striking up a conversation with the owners definitely pays off in the end!

Don’t be shy. House parties are only one part of the college party scene so don’t be scared to try all college party venues.  Hit up the bars on Thursday, brave the frat house on Friday, and shake your groove thang at the club on Saturday.  After a couple weekends, you’ll figure out what you like best and where you like to get your party on.

[Everyone’s got a morning after story (some are more traumatic than others) and we wanna hear yours! Send it over to us and we’ll post it – anonymously, of course – right here!]

When it came to house parties, my roommates and I pulled out all the stops. We wanted our soirees to stand out and be memorable so we always chose a theme. We threw a bat mitzvah party (homemade t-shirts and some chair lifts and all) for my non Jewish roommate’s 19th birthday. We had a costume parties. We had a Jell-o wrestling tournament. And when winter set in, we asked everyone to pull out their finest dresses and ties and come over for a cocktail party.

It was a classy affair with brie, wine and champagne.  Everyone looked fabulous as we mingled to the sounds of Frank Sinatra playing from my laptop.

As with most college parties, our friends brought their friends – people we didn’t know – but we welcomed them with open arms and strong vodka cocktails.

The party was going great – the alcohol was flowing, the people were having fun – so I ran upstairs to touch up my makeup in the bathroom. We typically left our downstairs bathrooms for guests so I was surprised to find the door locked. I knocked a few times; no answer. I thought maybe one of my roommates was in there – perhaps keeping things classy and going for  a more private makeout – and went back to the party.

A random guy came down the stairs a little while later and, assuming he must have been in there with one of my girls, I went back up to see what was going on. The bathroom door was open and I walked in.

And I almost hurled.

It seems that booty was not the reason for the bathroom occupancy. Not even close. Instead, this random guy that no one knew was in our bathroom leaving his mark. Literally. In attempts to prank us this boy decided to give us an Upper Decker. Yes, he pulled the lid off of the tank of our toilet and pooped right in there.

And if that’s not gross enough, his aim was a bit off, leaving some of his remains dripping down our wall.

I ran out of the bathroom and gathered my roommates.

“I need you for a minute,” I whispered. “We have a situation.”

“What’s the problem? Did someone steal your iPod again?”

“No. Someone took a dump on our wall.”

“Whaaaa?”

Confused, my roommates followed me upstairs. We filed into the bathroom and one by one the girls gagged. We weren’t sure if we should laugh or throw up, but we did know we had to do something. So  we huddled into the bathroom, clad in black dresses and pearls, formulating a plan for the Upper Decker. We decided removal was in order – and fast – as the situation might get more difficult (read: looser) the longer we waited.

My roommate ran down to the kitchen, grabbed a ladle and a garbage bag and we went to work. I held the bag (with my face turned away) as she scooped the poop into the bag. She tossed the ladle in (duh, we wouldn’t be serving soup with that any time soon) and I tied up the bag. I handed it off to another roommate and – in 3 inch pumps – she ran it to the dumpster across the street.

When she returned, we washed our hands of that mess (literally…three times) and went in search of the bowel-bandit. He was nowhere to be found. Unwilling to let him ruin our party completely (he can have our ladle but he can’t have our fun!), we mixed a few very strong cocktails and returned to the party.

We never did figure out who that kid was or who brought him, but that’s OK. The Upper Decker story made our party infamous…and what more can a group of college girls ask for?

[Everyone’s got a morning after story (though some are way more disturbing than others) and we wanna hear yours! Send it over to us and we’ll post it – anonymously, of course – right here!]

While you’re busy busting out A+’s and making new friends in college, it’s always really nice to go home for a weekend. And that is especially true during your freshman year when home friends routinely have elaborate parties where people drunkenly reunite.  It’s great really; chugging a few fuzzy navels with your best high school buddies, reminiscing about all of the TOTES COOL theme parties you’ve encountered on frat row so far, and all of the (Oh Em Gee) hot dudes you’ve met.

My particular high-school-post-first-month-of-college party came in late September my freshman year.  My entire high school class was there (literally all 170 of us), and we finally had enough over 21 contacts to scrounge up all of the alcohol we could ask for. We even had tents set up for drunken hook-ups sleeping.  Now, in order to follow the story, I have to set a prominent scene for you. The location of the party was any college kid’s dream: it was a giant hill in someone’s backyard that opened up to a serene lake with a small mud wrestling pit, a sauna, a hot tub and a huge dock.

It was heaven and everyone was so excited to be there with all of our friends that the drinking became excessive.

Soon here were mud-wrestling matches with girls in sports bras clawing at other girls, hoping to get all of the old, retired high school football captains to watch the girls “be drunk and sexy.” Afterward, people would dive into the lake and cool off make out and then sit in the sauna for a brief sobering up sesh.

I was having the time of my life. I ran around with my old girlfriends and even was paid five dollars to kiss one of them! Then I lost the five dollars when I  sloppily mud wrestled and played a game of ‘human bowling’ in the mud pit. I think I made out with 5 people that night. It’s one of those things where you feel comfortable with your old high school friends and all of these weird drunk hormones take over. It’s mildly embarrassing but extremely entertaining.

Eventually, after falling off the dock and producing the largest bruise known to man, me and one of my girlfriends decided it would be a good idea to run home. We’d had enough and we wanted to sleep in beds, not on the ground next to two horn dogs going at it.

Her house was only across the cornfield, it shouldn’t be that bad. At least that’s what we thought.  So in flip-flops and shorts, we went on our way. Now, don’t let the soft dirt in passing cornfields fool you. That shiz is deep. Like probably two feet. And lucky for us, it had rained the night before. By the time we arrived home at 5am, I had lost my flip flops and had mud up to my thighs. We passed out with crusted dirt on our legs on a deserted futon in her basement. Spooning.

But that wasn’t even the best story to come from that party. That award goes to another fine young lady in attendance, which we heard about from the host’s parents.

The next morning they were sitting in their kitchen sipping coffee and talking about how nice it was that the old crew was back together and everyone had grown up so much. Then, enjoying the beautiful morning, they looked out the window to find a young lady crawling drunkenly up their massive hill in their backyard from the cluster of tents at the bottom. Mid-sip of Starbucks via, the parents watched her pull down her pants and pop a squat right in front of their eyes…in their very own back yard.  Like a car crash, they were unable to look away.

Then, almost like out of a movie, Mrs. Pop-a-Squat started teetering mid-pee. Like a tree, the girl tipped and rolled down the hill. Peeing. Pants at half mass. All over herself.

That story, among many others from the evening, got through town pretty quickly. Needless to say, we never had another party again. But it’s OK; that one will forever live on in infamy.

I went to a house party.
And I’m alive to tell the story!

It had been about 2 years since attending my last house party and while standing amongst a large cluster of shirtless freshman dudes sweating and spinning their shirts in the air to the beat of Sean Kingston, I realized something. I am no rocket scientist (clearly, on account of my next statement), but house parties so different than the bar. You would think they would be the same – drunk people standing around – but there’s something (maybe it’s the open keg at house parties that encourages half-naked mosh pits in the living room?) that sets these two party scenes miles apart:

House Party: Unlimited alcohol. This means kegs to tap, red cups to grab, and Evian bottles filled with…er….not water….to pull out of your purse and pass around. There is no doubt the blood alcohol level is averaging significantly higher than any established place on campus.  It is just that much easier to get tipsy at a house party, and stay tipsy not remember a minute of your night.
Bar: $10 dollars for a Long Island? How to people expect anyone to get drunk around here if you have to pay your left leg for a watered down rail drink? And everyone is so busy standing in line for the bathroom (thanks to those melted ice cubes), no one really has time to get rowdy.

House Party: House parties make clothes come off. Seriously, I don’t know if it is the 80 games of beer pong or the overly crowded, steamy living room, but before you know it, guys are whipping their shirts off and dancing like their late night hook up depends on it.
Bar: Maybe it has something to do with the law (no shirt, no pants, no watered-down vodka tonic?), but the clothes aren’t coming off.

House Party: Conversations usually don’t span past drunken chants of “CHUG, CHUG, CHUG!”
Bar: Semi-intellectual conversations abound: “So…what’s your major?” and “OMG, look at the line for the bar.”

House Party: One minute everyone’s standing around looking for the one person they know, the next every girl in the room is wearing a guy’s piece of clothing, be it a flat brimmed hat or their jersey they tore off mid-50 Cent chorus. It’s getting hot in herrrre, so put on someone else’s clothes?
Bar: Again, getting nakey in the bar is just not OK. Especially according that that very big bouncer staring angrily at you across the room.

House Party: All you need is a flash of a smile and the big dude with the bigger muscles will pump that ice cold beer into your Solo cup, no matter how many times you ask.  (Editor’s Note: is it just me, or does that sound gross?)
Bar: After you stand behind a crowd of bar drinkers (seriously, can’t they just get their drink and go?!), elbow your way to the front and literally wave your cash in the air until that “hot” bartender in the low-cut top glances your way, you get an overpriced rum and Diet that tastes too much like diet and not enough like rum.

House Party: Three letters: P.D.A.
Bar: Two words: bathroom stall.

Honestly, it’s like a whole different world out there in House Party-ville and I’m not sure if I love or hate it. Or if I even really remember it. Or who’s lacrosse jersey I slept in last night. All I know is campus party destinations are most definitely not created equal.