I remember those naive high school days when puking during a rager meant that a) you couldn’t control your liquor and b) the party was over, for you. That’s why I was shocked one night during my freshman year of college, when my friend came back from the bathroom and proudly announced, “Oh, man, I just puked my brains out!”

I immediately switched to babysitter-mode. “Are you okay? Do we need to leave?” I asked, fully concerned.

“Nope!” My friend replied. “Got more room for beer now!”

At the time, this was an unprecedented occurrence to me. I’d never considered the theory of “puke and rally.”

A few years later, I’ve totally become acquainted with this practice. One summer, after a coworker tried unsuccessfully to light three consecutive shots of Sambuca on fire in mouth, I knew that that much booze so quickly was not going to be good. After the third shot went down, I booked it for the bathroom and barfed. A friend was worriedly knocking on the bathroom door, concerned as I had once been for my own friend. I opened the door, and she asked if I was okay. My response?

“Let’s rage!” Read More »

[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.]

Hugging the Bowl:

You started the evening out with the girls and a few shots of vodka to the tune of Bon Jovi blaring from the stereo. Then you moved onto the party, where you couldn’t not play 10 rounds of flip cup, followed by a game of beer pong. You were feeling good – really good – so you decided to give into the boys and do a keg stand.

After all, you had to show them what you’re made of.

When your feet are firmly back on the ground it hits you: you are totally f**ked up. The room is spinning, the floor is rocking and all you can think about is getting home and dying.

But you don’t want anyone to think you are a wimp (because you’re not!), so you pull one of the girls aside and whisper, “I’m tired. I think I’m gonna go,” which comes out more like, “I’m <hiccup> tiiiired. I <hiccup> mthink I’mgomna <vurp> go.” Your friend offers to go with you.

You stumble home, run straight to the bathroom and strip down to your bra and underwear. Your friend brings you water in the bathroom as you crouch over the toilet and start spitting into the bowl. Your knees hurt already, but you are not leaving the bathroom until you puke, dammit. Read More »

It’s amazing the things that inspire memories and thoughts. The smell of stale beer with a hint of garbage reminds me of my neighbor boys in college. “Kanye’s Workout Plan” reminds me of dance parties in my living room. Chinese food always reminds me of the man who masturbated outside my window while I ate dinner with my roommates.

And Jose? He doesn’t remind me of much, except nights I can’t remember.

Every week we ask our fantastic writers to weigh in on a variety of things. This week, we decided to play a little word association game. What three memories/thoughts/ideas come to mind when they hear the word Jose?

I’ll give you a hint… it involves a toilet. Or a sock drawer, for the truly unfortunate.

Alex – Cornell: Burrito, salsa dancer, sweat

Kelly – UMass: Tacos, Cuervo, Mustache

Lauren – University of Michigan: Body shots, mistakes, and the worst. hangovers. ever. Read More »

So last week I joked that this show makes me want to throw up in my mouth a little bit. Last night I seriously considered it. Yet at the same time, I couldn’t turn away from the TV.

Meet George The Giant. He’s a 7′ 3″ security guard auditioning in Chicago. His act was truly “out there.” George quips, “When you’re my size you have two choices; play basketball or be a freak…and I hate sports.”

Here’s George captivating the audience with his eyebrow raising talent.