It’s not hard to enjoy a beer. Just crack that baby, open your mouth and – boom – enjoyed. But thanks to college students’ never ending stream of ingenuity (or their need to drink as much cheap beer as possible without actually tasting it), there’s a wide variety of ways to indulge in the nectar of the gods. (Which, disturbingly, includes through your butt.)

So go grab a cold one from the fridge, crack it open, and stay with us as we outline the many wonderful (and a few questionable) ways to drink a beer.

[It's pretty obvious that the average CollegeCandy reader has some very strong opinions. Opinions that she likes to share with everyone on the site. We love a strong woman (unless she happens to be charging at us with her fists raised), so we thought we'd give her a real forum to discuss her thoughts, feelings, and perspectives. Every Friday I'll be featuring a hot topic (like free birth control! ) and leaving it up to you, the readers, to duke it out. So, read it and get your debate on in the comments section below!]

From Stanford to Florida State there are certain traditions that hold true in college across the country - homecoming, welcome week craziness, wearing flip flops in the shower, and getting up close and personal with your toilet after way too many shots on Friday night. College drinking has been a hot button issue for a long time, and there’s always been the question of who should step up and be responsible for it. Some recent reports have said that schools aren’t doing enough to curb excessive drinking – but should it be up to the schools?

On one side, colleges do have a responsibility toward their students’ health and that should at least include doing their best to distribute information and make policies that help keep students from chugging down the booze until it’s stomach-pump time. Also since many colleges are a major epicenter for the towns they’re in, often the school’s policies spill over into the surrounding communities, which in turn helps to curb the bingeing overall. And whether it’s fair or not, colleges are the only ones who really have jurisdiction in these kind of situations since it’s not a legal issue, so it has to be up to the schools to try and keep students (at least reasonably, sorta) sober.

But doesn’t the fact that it’s not a legal issue say something? As long as the students doing the power hours are of age, they are legally entitled to make their own decisions, even if those decisions might totally suck in the morning….or afternoon. There are also some pretty serious questions of how much schools can really do. Sure they can make policies about what students are allowed to do on school property, but they can’t control what happens off campus, and for colleges in bigger cities, they really can’t affect the way their community at large deals with alcohol. There’s also the really basic fact that a lot of schools depend on the social aspect of college life to attract students – that’s why every college list ever has a “party schools” section. If students choose to drink, it’s their business, and should we really expect colleges to jump in and try and force decisions on people who are supposed to be adults?

What do you think? Are schools falling down on the job of keeping their students safe? Or should they accept that drinking is just one of the time honored college traditions? What can really be done to keep drinking under control? And who should be in charge of it? Duke it out!

There is always that one friend that is the sparkler at every party. And I mean every party, because she never misses one. Infamous for dancing on tables and singing louder than the rest when Miley’s “Party in the USA” comes on, she’s a party animal and you love her just the way she is. She’s the one you call to find out the best pregame, party and after-party for the night. So really, you owe her.

If you need help finding the perfect present for the party animal in your life, here are some helpful gift ideas for the girl who loves life… and loves it a lot more when there’s booze involved.

Do-it-yourself ice luge: For my 21st birthday, my mom bought me an ice luge mold. Little did she know just how big of hit it was when broken out at my birthday party. Nothing better than pouring cheap vodka down a icy slide. Your friend will love having a personal ice luge at her disposal, and it will only make her parties that much more fun for the rest of you. And if she’s a little saucy, try this one.

Personalized Flask: Every party animal needs their own flask. And this one from Urban Outfitters may be perfect for the party whore in your life. It holds her sauce and gets her home at the end of the night. Because who wants some ugly ID bracelet wreckin’ her style?

Beer Can Wraps: We all know the dangers of drinking in public. Pesky law enforcement. Because you don’t want to see your friend in jail anytime soon, get her these handy beer can wraps so she can drink her beer in peace. “Skunkpiss” and “Mountain Spew” are my favorites.

Shot Glass Checkerboard Set: Checkers has never been more thrilling. It will quickly become your friend’s favorite pregame activity. Be warned, however. Strategy flies right out the window after your first few jumps.

Martini Mixer: Bed, Bath & Beyond will surprise you with the amount of gifts they have aimed at having a good and boozy weekend. (They should change their name to Bed, Bath and Boozehound.) Let your friend get her 007 on with this Electric Martini Mixer. Shaken, stirred or right from the mixer, she’ll thank you for this new-found toy.

The Ultimate Beer Bong: Because no party animal likes to drink alone, the Octobong is the perfect present. Drinking beer from a funnel at a very fast pace is truly a bonding experience, believe me. Nothing says friendship more than an eight-person beer bong.

Power Hour Program: Being friends with a party animal is sure to drain your bank account; nights out on the town aren’t free, ya know. So if you’re looking for something cheap and easy to get your friend, download this awesome power hour program on her computer. Using her favorite songs from her iTunes, you two can host a rockin’ power hour pregame for next to nothing, excluding the price of beer, of course.

How to Cure a Hangover: I’ve never met a person who was immune to hangovers. While your party animal friend may have their own homemade-hangover cure, I think it’s best to leave it to the people who know best. How to Cure a Hangover: The Best Remedies from the World’s Greatest Bartenders by Andrew Irving is sure to help your friend through some of her worst hangover woes.

Asahi Beerbot: If you’re going in on this gift with friends, or if you’ve got the money to spend and you REALLY like this friend, the Asahi Beerbot is perhaps the coolest gadget I’ve ever seen. First of all, it’s a robot. A robot that you can program with a voice. And he will store and keep your beer cold until you decide to crack one open. But it doesn’t stop there! The Beerbot will pour it in a glass mug for you! Dying. I think I’d be tempted to buy this for myself before giving it away.

And the one thing that all party animals should have in their back pocket..

Portable breathalyzer: It’s better they test themselves than have an officer of the law do it for them, if you know what I’m saying.

I live in my Rainbows. Period. No matter if it’s spring or fall, cloudy or sunny, hot or cold. No matter if I’m heading to a class, rocking out at a concert, or lounging by the pool. My Rainbows are constantly my go-to shoe, but sometimes – I admit – they’re just not a very good shoe choice.

So, my dear Rainbows, I’m totally torn…

Love Em:

There’s many reasons why 99% of the time you see me (and the majority of the other girls on campus), I’m in my Rainbows. They’re arguably the most comfortable shoes ever made, thanks to the leather construction and cushioned sole that molds to your feet (you can even see the layers of leathery softness!). And if you want more comfort, you can even buy ‘em double-layered! Can you say “heaven”?

Rainbows come in a ton of varieties. You can choose your color (white, brown, or black), material (leather or cloth), and straps (thin or thick). Not that it matters; whatever you choose, Rainbows always match your outfit and make you look 100% Cali-cute!

Even better, the people behind the flip flops are so sure of them that they even include a lifetime warranty for the odd chance that the straps break or the stitching comes undone. And seeing how often I wear them, that little guarantee makes them pretty perfect.

Loathe em:

Once you break them in, Rainbows are super comfy. Until you break them in, though, these flippies cause some serious pain and oozy blisters. Especially right between your big toe and the little guy next door. So. much. pain.

The price tag for these casual flip-flops is also a problem: $50!? For flip flops?! Flip flops that cause your feet to ooze and bleed? Yes, they are good quality sandals, but it’s not like sandals offer any quality support for your feet! An article in Newsweek cites research that shows flip-flops actually alter the way you walk, resulting in shorter steps and more stress on your joints that can cause even more pain (aside from your blisters).

And although you’ll want to wear them everywhere (after you break them in…and break your wallet buying them), you really shouldn’t wear them when it’s raining, snowing, hailing, or your playing beer pong/flip cup; once they get wet, your feet turn brown. And stay brown until you literally scrub them raw. And definitely not good for super long walks or hikes. Although, I may be the only one who ever tried that one…

So Rainbows, I’m torn. What do you think about these flippy-floppies?

[It doesn’t matter what school you go to, what state it is in, how big it is, whether it is public or private, all girls or coed…there are experiences that all college students share.No matter how crazy you think your personal situation is, it is not just you. So, let’s bring it all out in the open. Right here. Because you are not alone - we’ve all been there before.]

It’s your roommate’s birthday. Or the end of a brutal exam week. Or maybe it’s just Thursday. Whatever the reason, you are in line at the neighborhood liquor store, 30 pack of some cheap beer in hand, ready to start the power hour.

While you pick up the goods, your friend is at home building the perfect Power Hour CD: 60 songs, each cut down to the best 60 seconds. It’s the raddest blend of top 40 hits, 80s classics, and your favorite songs (Bootylicious?) to sing along to.

When you get home, you find your Power Hour crew sitting on the couch and floor around the coffee table ready and waiting for you. Each has her own special shot glass in front of her. There is an open seat at the end of the table with a penis shot glass in front of it. Your favorite shot glass. That seat is for you.

You divvy up the beers – 5 to each girl – before you sit down, crack your first brew, and settle in for the hour of fun.

The first ten minutes of the power hour pass by like any other time. Sure, you fill your shot glass each time the song changes, but between shots of beer you catch up with your friends on their day, their drama and that bitch of an exam you all had in Econ.

After a few more minutes (and the move onto beer #2), you begin laughing a bit more and singing along with the music.  You reminisce about the time you hooked up to “The Gambler,” or that hilarious party when your stereo kept playing “4 Minutes” on repeat.

And then the 30 minute mark hits and it is as if someone turned up the drunk on the group.

Suddenly everyone is standing up, dancing, and screaming along to the music. Each new song brings a series of shouts from Power Hour-ers: “DRINK!!!” Then, “OMG I LOVE THIS SONGGGG!” And finally, “OMFG WHY DID THAT SONG END SO QUICKLY?! DRINKKKK.”

As the 45 minute mark comes and goes, girls are dancing on chairs, someone is wearing the cardboard beer case as a hat, and a few girls go missing.

“Where is Amy?!”

“She had to pee!”

“She’s gonna miss the next shot!”

“Don’t worry!” Amy calls from upstairs. “I brought my beer with me!”

When minute 55 rolls around, you notice girls rolling around. On the floor. Laughing. Holding their full and achy stomachs. Telling the other girls how much they love them and how they want to be BFF forever.

One girl is upstairs puking. “I’m not that drunk,” she says. “Too much liquid!”

Finally, once the floor is covered in empty cans and you can’t feel your tongue anymore, minute 59 rolls around. As always, your friend chooses a sappy friendship song (O.A.R. “I Feel Home,” or something like it) to end the party. Everyone grabs their shot glasses, puts their arms around one another and hugs it out for the final minute.

Then you all stumble out of the house in search of the next party/to go to the bar, leaving your mess (and the girl who is still upstairs puking) for later.

Ah. The Power Hour.

We’ve all been there.

[Photo courtesy of www.powerhourgame.com]

I watch the Olympics every night in awe. Here I am sitting on my couch – MacBook on my lap, ice cream sandwich in my hand – as the world’s best athletes compete.

These are people who have sacrificed so much and worked so hard to be the best in their sport. These are people who have given everything they have (and then some) to get to this point in their athletic careers. These truly are the best of the best on the planet.

It is really something to think about.

And then there is Michael Phelps who is not only the best guy in the pool this year, but ever. Ever in history. 8 gold medals in a single Olympics. Pretty freaking amazing.

It was actually watching Phelps win his 8th medal that got me thinking about all of this. Yeah, watching a 48 year old woman win the Olympic marathon was pretty sweet, but Phelps really hit home for me. After all, he trained at Michigan; we walked the same streets, ate at the same restaurants and, if I ever even knew where it was, could have swam in the same pool.

I rarely saw Phelps on campus, mostly because he was always training.

And I was not.

In fact, While Michael Phelps was training to be an Olympic God and win 8 Gold Medals I Was:

- Laying in my living room watching Law and Order SVU marathons with my roommates

- Drinking Boones Farm Strawberry Hill on my porch

- Planning elaborate parties that included A Groundhog’s Day fiesta, a Jell-O wrestling tournament, and back to back Beerlympics.

- Sneaking Jimmy Johns into the reading room at the library where I spent hours IMing my friends about the douche bags who walked in

- Shopping with my parents’ credit cards

- Figuring out ways to “bump into” the boy from last weekend

- Making power hour CD’s

- Baking brownies, smoking pot and then eating those brownies…and everything else in the kitchen

- Constructing ridiculous costumes to wear to the bar (and not for Halloween)

- Watching Peanut Butter Jelly Time on my laptop and dancing around my room

I am not saying that I regret any of those activities or decisions (well, maybe the whole pot and brownie thing…), but I do now realize just how great I could have been if I had applied myself to something besides drinking, eating and trying to get a guy to hump me.

Because besides the Gold Yogurt Cap I earned for Survivor Flip Cup in the Walnut Street Beerlympics of 2005, no one awards medals for the activities I devoted my life to.

And don’t forget about your face.

Those dark circles under your eyes. The wrinkles from all that smoking (first or secondhand!).

Ugh. Partying is not a pretty thing. But what are you supposed to do….stop? Ha! You are no quitter, sister. What is the point of having a pretty face if you can’t take it out on the town? On the other hand, though, if your face is heading downhill now imagine what it is gonna look like in 20 years!

What to do, what to do….

How about Botox? This needle full of poison isn’t just for old ladies from Orange County anymore! Now you can have it too! It is all the rage in Ibiza (where partying/sun bathing is the key to life) where women are pumping their faces full of the stuff to ward off the evils from partying.

“When I tell people I’m 25, they never believe me. It’s amazing considering the kind of lifestyle I lead. It’s non-stop partying from the moment I get off the plane, and I usually come to Ibiza at least twice a year. This means a fortnight of drinking a lot and getting hardly any sleep.”

Now that is some serious dedication. I applaud you, women. Don’t let anything get in the way of your dreams!

You’re in the midst of Power Hour (one shot of beer every minute for an hour) and “one of your idiot friends” (read: you) lost track of time. Nobody knows when the next shot should be taken. It’s instances like this when you could use a stopwatch, or better – enter the Shot Caller.

Let’s cut to the quick: the Shot Caller is a glorified stopwatch that conveniently keeps time while playing Power Hour, or any other drinking game that requires you to constantly remember when one minute has passed. You can set up the Shot Caller to buzz off every minute for an hour (or up to 100 minutes if you’re brawny enough to take the challenge). Completing the Shot Caller package are four “regulation-size” shot glasses emblazoned with the companies’ logo.

For $15 the Shot Caller is a great deal, and a perfect gift for your friend who hosts the pre-game at his house every week. Honor his existence and the Power Hour tradition in one fell swoop.

Ahhhhh.

How I love a good Power Hour. 60 minutes. 60 ounces of the crappiest beer. 60 song snippets. 3 sprints to the bathroom to make more room for beer.

There is really nothing better, especially if you have one killer power hour mix (good one here). In fact, without the music, a power hour is simply sixty minutes of someone watching the clock and screaming “Drink, bitches!” every time the hand moves. That isn’t fun. Nor is it easy as you reach minute 42 and the clock begins to turn into a fuzzy mess of numbers.

Which brings me to my point.

I have spent quite a few hours during my time on this planet taking shots of beer every minute on the minute. This makes me a self-proclaimed Power Hour Connoisseur. (Note: This is not to be confused with a Century Club Connoisseur as I have never been able to take down 100 shots of beer without vomiting around shot 61.)

Anyhoo, through my many travels down Power Hour Lane I have come to notice a few themes. No matter where I am or who I am with, certain things remain true across the Power Hour board.

So, here you have the Power Hour Timeline:

Minutes 1-7: Time to settle in, stack the beers in front of you, and get into the groove. Casual conversation ensues involving post-power-hour destination decisions. Late comers join the fun, pulling beers out of their pockets as they settle in around the coffee table.

Minutes 8-15: Everyone is getting in the groove. People react with excitement at the change of each song; both to the new jam blaring from the stereo/iTunes (“I LOVE this song!”) and to the shock of having to take another shot so soon.

Minutes 16-30: As the beer begins to make its way into everyone’s systems, people begin to get a little louder. People switch from sitting cross legged to sitting on their knees, making it easier for them to do a little dance to each 60 minute song segment. People begin cracking beer numero tres.

Minutes 31-32: The beer has finally settled into the bloodstream of the Power Hour-ers. Girls are up, singing, hugging, and sitting on eachother’s laps. There is nothing better in this world than a shot of beer, friends, and Madonna’s, Like A Prayer.

Minutes 32-45: Dancing, major selfie-time (“Ha! Put the beer box on your head! FACEBOOK PICTURE!”), quick sprints to the bathroom – camera in hand – followed by more selfies…in the bathroom.

Minutes 45-54: As the final beers are cracked and poured, everything gets a lot more exciting. Each shot is a celebration (“DRIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIINK”) and each song is a #1 hit (“YES. CHUMBAWUMBA!”). Drunk dials are attempted, though quickly aborted as the song changes and it is time to drink yet again.

Minutes 55-59: “I love you so much! I love beeeeeeeeeeeer. College is so awesome. Oh! I LOVE THIS SONG!”

Minute 60: Usually a sad final tune. You know, to really bring things home. Participants down the final shot then stand in a circle and sing “Time of My Life” at the top of their lungs. More selfies are taken (“We look so cute!”) before heading out the bar. Well, not before a few trips to the bathroom and a quick run for some pizza. Mmm mmm mmmmmmmmmm.

So, this holiday weekend mix up a little Purple Rain and have at it! There’s no better way to get drunk than to make a game out of it, and nothing is more “college” than the traditional art of the drinking game. Fabulous!

And here at CC, we truly appreciate a decent buzz. Or getting a little tipsy-tips. Alright, we embrace full on intoxication. Hell, I have a beer in my hand right now and sometimes I pregame for my AA meetings.

So… we figured it oh-so important to include you in on one of our greatest secrets: the best drinking games of all time. Sometimes, we even try them out at our staff meetings. (Just kidding, but that’d be f*ckin’ awesome)

1. The Beloved Power Hour

Who’d turn it down? Not only do you get to blast a whopping 60 catchy songs (make sure your playlist creator has good taste in music, or this could completely backfire), but you still get to socialize and dance amidst the not-so-sober fun.

2. Kings

Can get really annoying if people forget the rules, so write them down, keep them straight, and hell, you’re college students shouldn’t you have them memorized by now? No? Well, here they are:

Ace: Waterfall, the card picker starts and everyone drinks til’ one by one people put their beers down in order. Chug a lug!

Two: You. Pick someone to drink. Preferably the cute guy across the circle, give him a wink. It’s almost as fun as spin the bottle!

Three: Me. Drink up chicky.

Four: Floor. Whoever’s the last to slam the ground must sip.

Five: Guys. Nothing’s better than a bunch of boys trying to desperately prove their drinking skillz.

Six: Chicks. Throw in a cheesy toast.

Seven: Heaven. Puh-raiiise the lode! Whoever’s the last to raise a hand gets to raise their BAC.

Eight: Make a Date. You and a chosen one chug.

Nine: Rhyme. Don’t be lame and say orange, you cheat.

Ten: Sentence. Throw a friend’s name in to make things more interesting.

Jack: Categories. Shoe brands, types of liquor, sexual positions anyone?

Queen: Questions. Whoever accidentally answers gets a little embarassed and a lotta booze.

King: Rule. Get creative or be dubbed the girl that makes the boring rules.

3. F*ck the Dealer

In this game, it’s fun to get fucked. (And no I’m not going to say anything risque, because I hate that word.) The dealer must have each player one by one guess the number of the card at the top of the deck, if they get it wrong, the dealer asks, “Higher or lower?”. If the answer’s wrong, the player drinks the difference of seconds from the last number they guessed and the actual number of the card. If they’re right, the dealer get’s f*cked, and gets to chug. Every four successful wrongs, the dealer can pass the deck.

We’d love to hear your personal favorites! Happy drinking, ladies!