1. Wear the right clothes

Sure, we all love to show a little skin, but keep some stuff tucked away. Pick an outfit that is “drunk proof,” meaning it doesn’t require your attention throughout the night. Strapless tops and so-short-you-can’t-bend-down-in-them dresses definitely aren’t drunk-proof options. And take a cue from our pop princess, put on some panties, please.

2. Pregame wisely

Perfecting your pregame takes trial and error. One too many shots, and you’ll be slurring your words before you can say “bar crawl,” let alone partake. So be smart when starting your evening. Pick your poison, and try to stick to it. Remember: You want to be tipsy, not totally hammered when you hit the bars.

3. Work the room

This means working the room where the party is at, not some random bedroom upstairs. Remember: You’re in public and, believe it or not, you’re not invisible. People will notice you staggering up the stairs with that guy you just met. Keep it classy by staying with the crowd and keeping your lovemaking private.

4. Keep track of your things

Nothing screams, “I was wasted last night” like losing your purse. The fashion gods invented swing-packs and shoulder bags for this very reason. Buy one, and keep your belongings by your side the entire night—literally. I mean, unless you enjoy canceling your credit cards and creating “lost my cell phone, need numbers” Facebook events.

5. Don’t be trashy

Don’t spill your drink or eat shit on the dance floor. Easier said than done, I know. But keep in mind, if you make a mess you probably look like a mess doing it. Fast-forwarding to the end of the night, take this tip home with you. Hypothetically, let’s say you made it back to your apartment—don’t trash it. Sure you’re hungry, but opt for something microwavable or a simple bag of chips. And if you’re going to be sick, stay near the toilet. Nothing is worse than having to clean up after yourself hungover.

6. Go to after hours

But, only if you’re sober enough to stand up (sans support) and socialize a while longer. After hours is where many people start getting messy. If one more drink will do you in, do your friends a favor and head to bed. Remember: There’s always tomorrow night.

“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.

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

I had the busiest semester ever in my college career because some genius (read: my idiot self) decided it was a good idea to take 18 hours.  And work.  And hold an officer position in my sorority.  Terrible idea in hindsight.

So needless to say, I rarely went out due to my hectic schedule.  Plus whenever I got home at the end of the day or when I had spare time, I wanted to spend it doing nothing and sleeping.  The weekends were a prime opportunity to rest for half a day before I had to start doing homework and writing papers for my classes.  But those few times I managed to go out, I made it count.  I really made it count.  Especially at my sorority’s last hurrah, the Tacky Christmas party.

If you don’t know what Tacky Christmas is then shame on you.  Basically everyone wears tacky sweaters that your grandma made you or wrapping paper dresses, or if you don’t celebrate Christmas, you put a Menorah crafted from pipe cleaners on your head.  I opted for a gigantic gift bag from Target, while my ex dressed up as a little kid on Christmas.  Oh yeah, did I mention I took my ex as my date?  Well, I did.  Don’t judge me.

Anyway, I figured as it was my last night out with my friends before finals, I should make the most of it.  The ex and I arrived at a pre-game that evolved into a full blown rager before we even made it to the bar.  Not only did I take an unknown number of peppermint patty shots (soooo good!), but I also finished a bottle of crappy champagne by myself.  I weigh 100 pounds, and hardly drank this semester.  You do the math.

We eventually got everyone to migrate to the bar, which was a terribly difficult task since we were having much more fun at the pre-party.  I was expecting to get big black X’s on my hands that night, but one of my friends happened to be working the door at the bar and gave beautiful, shiny wristbands to my ex and I.  Well, I successfully closed my tab after one beer.  See that?  I was responsible.  But then I stole the ex’s pitcher and drank half of it.

I don’t remember dancing on stage with the rapper.  Or grinding in my gift bag.  Or going home.  But from what I was told here’s what happened:

The ex drove me home and was going to stay with me to make sure I saw the next day (so sweet).   When we got to my apartment complex, I decided that I didn’t live on the first floor and ran away.  I hid under a stairwell for about ten minutes, and then I continued my adventure up to the third floor where two random guys were cheering me on as the ex chased me down.  Finally, he managed to catch me and carry me back to my apartment.  My roommate was still awake, which was good because I did everything she said and refused to listen to the ex.

After getting me into my pajamas, they tried to give me water.

me: “NO! It’s a Horcrux!”

ex: “What?!”

me: “It’s a Horcrux! You have to destroy it! Unless you’re Lord Voldemort…”

ex: “Babe, it’s not a Horcrux. Drink your water.”

me: “Obliviate!”

I don’t remember this conversation but since two out of three people do, I’ll accept it.  Apparently I continued to cast spells and begged for my roommate’s wand.  She decided I’d poke my eye out and told me it was at Olivander’s for repairs.  I was very upset about that.

Eventually, I got sick, drank the Horcrux water after it was destroyed, went to sleep, and had wonderful dreams that I was Harry Potter.

[You think that's bad? Check out our other cringe-worthy Morning After stories.]

Yes, it’s time to be ready for the school year. It’s time to start packing and gaining ultimate pre-college essentials to give you a chance for an easy ride through the first semester.  Alright CollegeCandy chickas, nurse those excited pangs of pain desire in your liver – we (with a little help from our college blogging friends) are going to get you ready for school!

* Before you even pack up the car, make sure that you don’t forget those necessary items that everyone always forgets to pack.

* Ok, I’m going to be the one to put it out there – I wasn’t much of a ‘laundry-pro’ going into college. I’m not kidding, can I say on here that I Googled ‘how to separate colors’ before doing my very first load? Yeah, embarrassing. Allow me to protect your Google history: here are some things you can think about in regards to doin’ the dirty laundry pile.

* Before I went off to college, shoved in between a thick pile of clothes and a dresser in my dad’s truck, I would have paid a fortune to have a 100+ list full of things to know in regards to college. Here’s the dream realized, free of charge.

* Come finals week, this list will be pasted to your forehead.

* Ok enough of this ‘super prepared for college talk.’ It’s time to talk ‘college drinking.’ Looking for some fabulous future drink mixers? Chasers? Or simply a healthy drink to accompany your future study sesh? Turn to these tasties.

* And to be able to afford all these tasties, check out the 45 weirdest scholarships that you can get.

* Since it’s almost time to start getting ready for classes, why not get in gear early?

* Craving a stress-free moving day more than a Lindsay Lohan US Weekly cover story? I thought so. Say it out loud, “stress free move in day, here I come!”

* I bet while college creeps closer and closer to your North Face backpack, your stress level begins to increase.  Margarita nights with your girlfriends will soon be replaced with lots of stressed out evenings thinking about what classes you need to start taking. Well, stress be gone.

* While you will be saying farewell to your very own bathroom at home, a cupboard dedicated to your favorite types of cereals (guilty), and lots of baggage, you will be saying ‘Hello’ to lots of ramen and never a moment to yourself. Take some of these college dorm tips with a grain of salt entire margarita on the rocks.

* Set up your very own Fashion First Aid kit for your dorm room.

* Oh and while you’re at it – set up a Walk of Shame Kit before you go, too.

Are you a college blog who wants to be included on this list? E-Mail us at editor@collegecandy.com with your back to school link.

And I dunno if it’s just the spring sunshine (er, rain right now), but I am feelin’ a little frisky. Which sucks. Because I’m single…and plan to stay that way.

But, I do have ONE option at my disposal: Sex with the Ex.

Now, even though I won’t actually do it (…at least not unless I have a good two to three white russians in my system), it is still fun to think about. Which I did. Through my hour and fifteen minute lecture on Scriptwriting.

So, naturally all this thinking led to fantasizing, and this fantasizing inevitably led to me creating a “Sex with the Ex” mix chock full of songs that would totally make any ex fall to his knees, you know, just in case. Like my own little secret weapon.

So, I’m not saying you have to use this mix for it’s original purpose, but I won’t judge you if you do.

Next week, I’ll give you some songs to drink to. Promise.
Check it out here.

So far, I’ve broken all but one. So, I created this mix so with the intention that listening to it with my girls before I hit the bars this weekend will prevent me from going home with any random loser I might meet (or any douchebag-y ex-boyfriends I might run into).

So I invite all of you to celebrate being single/hating whatever loser lasted screwed you over with this classic Single Ladies/Girl Power pregame playlist.

So, this week we’ve provided you with some jams to get you back in your “grind.” Some are fast, some are slow, but they’re all sure to take your mind off whatever you really should be thinking about this weekend. Enjoy, ladies!

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So hook up your laptop speakers, bust out your 40’s & get ready to pre-game harder than those other kids party.]

I thought this week I’d create the most obvious pre-game playlist: songs about drinking. Alcohol is obviously a staple in our society, so what better way to celebrate it than by throwing back a couple cocktails while dancing around to alcohol-themed jams? That’s what I thought.

Get your drink on here.

[If you have suggestions for future playlist themes or have a track you really think should be included in a future installment, let us know in the comments!]

So hook up your laptop speakers, bust out your 40’s & get ready to pre-game harder than those other kids party.]

So, Halloween is over. The ele 1ction (and my 22nd birthday) is over. I’m kinda feelin’ some symptoms of that post-best-week-ever syndrome and decided I needed a little somethin’ somethin’ to brighten my mood. I don’t know about you, but gettin’ my little butt out on the dance floor for some booty shakin’ action usually does the trick. So, to inspire you to the do the same, I compiled a list of my fave rump shakin’, body movin’, a** groovin’ tunes for your pregame pleasure.

Get the party started right hurrr.

[If you have suggestions for future playlist themes or have a track you really think should be included in a future installment, let us know in the comments!]

[I like to think of myself as a pretty easy going gal, and try not to sweat the small stuff. But sometimes (ok, maybe slightly more often) the general cluelessness, carelessness and overall stupididty of some things and or/people really gets to me. I find that venting is the most efficient way to rid myself of the stress that idiots, wrong meal orders, lack of cell phone ettiquette and cheese flavored products (that don’t even contain any freaking cheese!) induce. So, in an attempt to avoid an ulcer or an unfortuante road rage incident, I vent to you, dear reader. Please feel free to join in and comment about anything–really, anything–that pissed. you. off. this week. Let it all hang out. I feel you.]

Football game traffic.

Under no condition should any human be confined to a small metal box harnessed into their seats and surrounded by others doing the same thing. A sweet play list is only a small consolation for being stuck in bumper to bumper traffic as you jealously stare at drunken fans playing flip cup on their front lawns, hours ahead of your severely lacking tailgate level. The only thing worse than the knowledge of your slowly depleting gas tank is the realization that you are missing out on precious pregaming time.

Senseless Acts of Brutality.

I hope that the inclusion of the tragic events affecting Jennifer Hudson’s family on this list doesn’t seem insensitive, because I am pissed. The woman, apart from being beautiful and talented, seems like such a kind person that it’s hard to imagine how anyone could hurt her and her family. Additionally, the pain inflicted on their family is only deepened by the disappearance of Hudson’s 7-year-old nephew. However horribly inhumane it is to commit murder, to take a child from their home and place them in danger is unforgivable a thousand times over. I hope the guilty party is caught and subject to the same pain they put the Hudson family through.

Severe Under-appreciation for Kings of Leon.

This band kicks ass. Don’t believe me? Check them out. If you already know of them and their general awesome-ness, then you can back me up in saying “Why the F**K aren’t these guys owning MTV?” They’re huge everywhere else (they’ve sold twice as many albums in Britain than they have in the U.S.) so why haven’t we jumped on the band…um, wagon optional. Let’s hope that their tour de force of NYC builds a bigger fan base for these rock geniuses, because if I have to listen to Flo-Rida reiterating that this is his jam and demanding that I get my hands in the “ayer,” sh*t’s gonna get ugly.

Apatow Wannabe’s.

Seriously? I mean, the man has made some pretty hilarious films, but there has to be a point of saturation when it comes to comedies that revolve around pot, bromance and titties. Pineapple Express, Sarah Marshall, the upcoming Zack & Miri Make a Porno are all valiant attempts at comedy gold on par with Knocked Up, Superbad and 40 Year Old Virgin, but at some point plotlines surrounding slackers with hearts of gold and gratuitous nudity become a little much—never mind the fact that the same clique of guys stars in every.single.one. The Frat Pack has moved on, maybe it’s time you guys should too.

Survivor Style Jury Duty.

As if jury duty didn’t suck hard enough, the 12 jurors of Senator Ted Stevens’ corruption trial (who have been in session since September 22, BTdubs) are dropping like flies—or at least attempting to knock off their fellow flies. Thanks to one disturbed woman, who was “rude, disrespectful and unreasonable” aimed “violent outbursts” at other jury members, the foreman wrote the presiding judge a note, asking to vote her off the island coutroom. Uh, guys? It’s that senator sitting out there standing trial for tricking out his mansion with goodies given to him by the heads of Big Oil that you’re supposed to be deliberating over—not each other.

Ok, now that I’ve got my judgy rant out of the way I can take a bubble bath and center my chi. What pissed you off this week?