The media should really be more specific with its headline choices. “We’re All Going to Die,” for example, would be quite alarming if I were a credible news source. Sadly, this is barely an exaggeration of some of the headlines I’ve seen lately. Two that really stood out (I SWEAR to God these are real):
 
“Women who force themselves to be quiet during marital arguments are four times more likely to die.” (heard on the news as I flipped past to something less intellectually stimulating)
 
You hear that, ladies? You had better start standing up to your man or you’re in trouble. FOUR TIMES more likely to die, that’s no joke. That is a serious increase in mortality rate. Guys need to know this stuff too. Just by arguing with your girlfriend you may be slowly killing her. Cut it out, asshole.
 
“Sleep deprivation may increase chances of death” (Yahoo! News headline)
 
I have been living by this doctrine for years. When I sleep until 2pm it’s not because I’m lazy, it’s because I value my health. I shouldn’t even be writing this, I should be sleeping. If you’re not reading this in bed, you are at risk.
 
Partying 232: All About Alcohol - Coming Soon

Prerequisites: Partying 101, Partying 102, Partying 201
 
If you go to a lot of parties, you will start to notice certain trends. Everything I’ve talked about in the previous installments is a trend. In the same way, when you become more experienced in these things you’ll be able to spot certain types of people that seem to always show up at parties. Here are just a few, along with tips on how to entertain yourself at their expense:
 
Mr. Testosterone
 
I talked about him a little bit in Partying 102: At the Party. He’s loud, “awesome” at all drinking games, and you’re his new best friend.
Tip: Be his beerpong partner and throw the game. When he yells at you, cry.
 
The High School Kid
 
Not always, but a LOT of the time there is one and only one highschool kid at a party. He’ll stand out because a) he’s really fucked up, b) he has no idea how to play beerpong or flip cup, and c) it’s not unlikely that he has braces.
Tip: Ask him to invite over some freshman girls… from his highschool. Then get far, far away from that party.
 
First-One-Drunk/The Instigator
 
This person shows up hammered and will not be satisfied until you are equally as hammered. A lot of the time, they succeed in getting you wasted while simultaneously failing to tell you that they have stopped drinking. This leads to an interesting role-reversal later in the night.
Tip: Be this person and you always win.
 
The Diplomat
 
He’s just passing through on his way to a far better party that you’re not invited to. Sometimes he’s already been to the other party and just wants to poke his head in to see if he’s missing anything. He’ll be gone in five minutes because the other party is so amazing.
Tip: Call the cops on the other party and mention his name.
 
Ms. “I’m not drinking tonight for absolutely no reason”
 
Some people refuse to have fun. She doesn’t have to study, work, volunteer at a soup kitchen, run a triathalon, receive a shipment of heroin at the docks, or anything else the next day, yet she won’t drink. Also, she will probably be disgusted by your drunken behavior and end up leaving early. The next night she will drink twice as much as she usually does.
Tip: Ask, “Why aren’t you drinking?” every five minutes and pretend to forget that you have already asked 47 times.
 
Paul Revere
 
This person flies under the radar all night, only popping out of the woodwork to warn people that “the cops are here” (whether they are or not). Anytime someone knocks at the door, this is the person in the background that you hear go “Shhhhhhhhh!!!!!” Also, Paul Revere is the first to hide in the shower if an authority figure really does show up, as chances are they have been busted before and “can’t afford another citation.”
Tip: Just let them exist, and their paranoia will eventually ruin them on its own.
 
The guy/girl who will hook up with anybody
 
Self-explanatory.
Tip: Pawn them off on your friends. Unless they’re hot.
 
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Don’t spend too much time trying to figure out if you are one of these people. It’s not necessarily a bad thing, we all get a little goofy when we drink. The lessons will continue next time, with Partying 232: All About Alcohol. See you then.

Prerequisites: Partying 101, Partying 102
 
When you eventually get your own place off campus, the first thing you want to do is throw a party. You’ll probably be planning this party before you even have furniture or electricity, which is good. I like the commitment. There are, however, a few things you need to know about hosting your own sock-hop before you kick things off. Opening your home up like this can be a disaster if you don’t know what you’re doing. Of course, common sense dictates the general rules of throwing a party, but here are some extra tidbits to make it easier on you.
 
You don’t want the entire school to come
 
You might think you do, but you don’t. Again, this was more common at ASU, but just in case you get any crazy ideas…. know that they’re bad ideas. Handing out fliers, making a public Facebook event, and recruiting off the street are all horrible ideas. Assuming you have friends (if you don’t, you’re on your own), just invite them and tell them they can bring a few people if they want. That way, almost everyone knows eachother but there are some fresh faces mixed in to make things interesting. Everyone wins. If you just give the entire world blanket permission to come to your party, you never know what kinds of people are going to show up. You’re a lot more likely to get the drunken idiot who wants to fight people, the sketchy old guy who no one knows, and the dude who is stealing your shit. And also, more generally, the percentage of people you know at YOUR party is significantly lower and hence your party will suck. Easy trap to fall into as a rookie; avoid it at all costs.
 
No one gets mad when a girl picks a bad song
 
Yet another example of why having girls around is beneficial for everyone. If your party’s music is coming from an iPod (as opposed to a mix cd or something), then you will almost certainly lose control of what is being played. That isn’t that big of a deal because there are better things to do at a party than pick songs all night, but it can cause problems. It’s been proven time and time again that any time a guy (you, the host, included) picks a song, someone will vocally object and quite possibly become irate if it isn’t changed immediately. There are few true “crowd-pleasers,” these days, especially if you have a diverse group of friends. The lesson here is to let girls pick the music whenever possible. Even if the song they choose sucks, no one will call them out on it or get angry. If they piss off the only girls at a party they might as well just go home and drink alone in the dark. No one wants to risk that.
 
Don’t let people talk you into stupid beerpong rules
 
Finally, the dark side of having girls at your party. They are especially prone to wanting things their way, and they aren’t afraid to use their cleavage or baby blue eyes to get it. Don’t fall for that shit. Staring at cleavage is great and all, but there’s a time and place for it. Lay down the house rules ahead of time and stick to them. At my house, for example, there is no island, no NBA jam, and no behind-the-back. People have protested this several times but my roommate and I aren’t having any of it. If you bend your will to one rule, the floodgates will open and the game will be entirely unrecognizable before long. Stand your ground on that shit! This also applies to flip-cup rules, beerpong list controversies, Kings rules, and anything else under the sun. It’s your party, damnit.
 
Outsource collection duties to someone who is good at it
 
When you become a veteran party-thrower, people tend to throw down beer money without being prompted. You’ve built a rapport with them and they respect the process. In the beginning though, you need to be more assertive. I was, personally, terrible at this. Some people have a gift, though, and can twist people’s arms without coming off like a douche. If you’re not one of those people, find a trustworthy person who is and get him to collect beer money for you.
 
Make it interesting
 
Getting drunk for absolutely no reason is great. Having no agenda during a party is fantastic. But, every once in a while, get creative and do something different. Theme parties are always awesome. Beer games competitions are completely under-utilized and completely amazing. Organize a drunken scavenger hunt, handcuff random people together, do something to make your parties stand out. That’s the best way to get people coming back every weekend. Always be looking for a way to make your parties better.
 
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I have a lot more to say on this topic, so I will probably revisit it later. For now, though, that should get you started. Next time we’ll be moving onto Partying 231: Characters, which will be a guide to the specific types of people that seem to be at every party. Who they are, how to spot them, and how to maximize their entertainment value. Stay tuned.

Prerequisites: Partying 101
 
Okay, so you made it to the party; hopefully fashionably late, with a bunch of girls, and without any significant-other-drama. Now you can let loose and have a good time. I can’t teach you how to do that, but I still have advice. Here are a few nuggets of wisdom to make sure the night goes smoothly:
 
At some point, ladies, ditch the high heels
 
Earlier in the night, high heels can make you look classy. You’re beautiful and more dressed up than everyone else, and you’ll get noticed for it. Fast forward a couple of hours, and you look more like a circus clown walking on stilts. There is nothing funnier than watching a girl walk to the car from the bars in high heels for exactly this reason. I’m sorry but this is the honest to God truth. There is a science to these things, and just as bringing more girls directly increases the amount of fun you have, the amount of alcohol you consume is indirectly proportionate to how well you walk in your shoes. After an hour or two of partying, kick them off and be that awesome chick who is running around barefoot and hammered. Everyone loves that girl.
 
Don’t be so God damn excitable
 
There is always one guy at a party who, apparently, is taking unnecessary daily injections of testosterone. He’s the guy that will throw his arm around your neck and tell everyone how awesome you are because you once drove by his highschool, and later on will legitimately question the manhood of anyone who misses a shot in beerpong. Calm the hell down. No one likes this guy because he’s a tool, and they will mock him when he leaves the room.
 
Tell people you’ve never done something that you actually have
 
Want to do a keg stand, but don’t want to wait in line? Tell people you’ve never done one. Don’t want to catch herpes from beerbonging after nine other people? Tell the host you want to “try it for the first time.” Want some free liquor? “I’ve never done a shot before.” Want to hook up with a girl completely out of your league? Tell her you’ve never kissed anyone before and then give her the puppy dog eyes. Most of this shit won’t fly past freshman or sophomore year, so enjoy it while you can.
 
The more filthy and degrading a song is towards women, the more girls will like it
 
Pretty self-explanatory. Keep it in mind when choosing music. (This topic will be expanded upon in Partying 201: Throwing a Party). Examples: Colt 45 by Afroman, Get Low by Lil’ John, Crazy Bitch by Buckcherry, and Cum Girl by David Banner.
 
Teaching people new drinking games is almost always a disaster
 
If you want this to work, disregard the “Come Late, Stay Late,” theory and show up on time. People will still be sober enough to follow your complicated and likely poorly thought out explanation. Also, if the game is already going when more people start showing up, they’ll be forced to learn the game if they want to jump in. If you want to know what it’s like to teach drunk people a new game later in the night, try explaining quantum physics to a group of six year olds. You will want to start tazering people. It’s an excercise in frustration, and really not worth your time.
 
It’s a marathon, not a sprint
 
I know this is an overused phrase, but it’s so true, and some people have trouble internalizing it. Again, “Come Late, STAY Late.” It doesn’t count as staying late if you’re passed out in the side yard at 3am with ten penises drawn on your face. Now, there’s no reason you can’t run fast in a marathon, but you’ve gotta save something for the home stretch. Once you get home, you can vomit, pass out, start punching old people, or whatever it is that you do when you get completely obliterated. While you’re at the party, though, you need to hold it together… somewhat. It’s okay to be really really drunk, but when people need to start babysitting you, you’ve lost it. Sometimes it’s not your fault, because you have bad friends who will goad you into doing too many shots. This is forgiveable every once in a while as long as you learn your lesson eventually. Just think, how are you supposed to take advantage of the end-of-night perks if you can’t even walk?
 
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I know I missed a lot of things, but I plan on covering those things in more detail within some of the upper level courses. Like I said, the next step from here is Partying 201: Throwing a Party. You have to walk before you can run.
 
Questions? Comments? Concerns? Queries? Anything you’d like to see me cover in future installments? Let me know.

I’ve thrown my fair share of parties. In fact my roommate’s and my house has become somewhat famous. There’s even a picture from one of our parties on CollegeHumor.com, so it must be legit.
 
Not only that, but I’ve been to my fair share of parties as well. In no way am I a partying guru, though. In the grand scheme of things, I’m still a rookie. I did, however, cut my drinking teeth at Arizona State University. Between three semesters there, going on two here, and a smattering of visits to friends’ schools, I’ve got a decent resume’ behind me and I’ve learned a thing or two. That being said, here is some advice for the underclassmen who want to get shitty like a pro.
 
Come Late, Stay Late
 
No matter how late the official “start time” for a party is, people will generally be at least half an hour late. Things won’t really get started for at least an hour or more. Also, the later you show up, the drunker everyone is and the easier it is to start having fun right off the bat. Walking into a room full of sober people who don’t know eachother is kind of like being stuck at the nerd table in the highschool lunchroom. Don’t come TOO late though, or you’ll get stuck paying $5 to scrape the bottom of the last keg.
 
You should stay late for essentially the same reasons. First, everyone will be hammered. This is beneficial in so many ways. For example, people will start to disregard the beerpong list, allowing you to play multiple games in a row even if you lose. There will inevitably be that one person, though, who is standing there waiting for you to get off the table so that he can announce it loudly to the next team on the list. Just pour some chloroform on a rag, knock him out, and throw him in the closet. Done and done. Second, the drunker people are, the more they want to hook up. Do with that what you will. Third, when you leave early, you get chastised and booed and called names that you didn’t even know existed. Don’t be that person.
 
Guys, Bring Girls. Girls, Bring Girls.
 
It is a scientifcally proven fact that the amount of fun you have at party is directly proportional to the amount of girls you have with you. Especially if you’re at a party where you don’t know that many people (this was a lot more common at ASU), there is a HUGE difference between walking in with a bunch of guys and walking in with a group of girls. I mean, massive. You can almost hear the collective groan from every guy at a party when a random group of dudes enters the party. In fact, I’m pretty sure the girls aren’t happy to see them either.
 
The Movies Are Full of Shit
 
It’s not like that. At all. So don’t expect it to be. Never once have I seen Snoop Dogg perform at a frat party, slept with Elisha Cuthbert, or not had to wait in line at the keg. Purely the stuff of fairy tales.
 
Don’t Call Your Out-of-State Boyfriend or Girlfriend
 
Seriously, no good can come of this. If you guys go to different schools, forget about it. I have seen this way too many times for it to be coincidence. You’ll end up spending 45 minutes on the phone arguing before you even get to the party. Inevitably, you’ll end up talking during the party at some point, just in case you were thinking about starting to have fun. And then the entire ride home you will be on the phone again, quite possibly in tears. Call them later when you’re not drunk, lie to them, or just don’t call at all. For good measure, participate in an ecstasy induced orgy.
 
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Like I said, I’m no expert, so take everything I say with a grain of salt. Just know that this is pretty solid advice. This is by no means all-inclusive, so I’ll be happy to do some Q&A if anyone has concerns.
 
These are just the basics; common knowledge for a lot of people. Stay tuned for Partying 102: At The Party

Right now it’s two in the morning on a Tuesday night/Wednesday morning, although the cacophony of madness being produced outside would sooner make one think of the front lines in Iraq.
 
There is work being done on the sewer lines in my neighborhood, which translates into enormous trucks and excessively loud pumps running non-stop directly outside my front door. Why they had to wait until 10pm to start working is beyond me. My street is really not that busy; we would have gotten along just fine.
 
Also, apparently, everyone in Towson is an alcoholic. The bars are as full as ever, with the noise level somewhere between “This is completely unreasonable, ” and “I’m going to stab someone.”
 
There are arguments right outside my windows. So many arguments. Construction workers are yelling at eachother, drunk girls are gossiping, guys are beefing. Car alarms are going off, people are honking at eachother, and police sirens are wailing in all directions. And every ten minutes, someone at one of the bars takes the trash out and a thousand bottles break against the bottom of the dumpster.
 
I’m not complaning per se; I stay up late anyway and I could sleep through a tornado, but this is just so laughable I had to share it. It comes in waves too. The construction was the only thing going on until about 1:30am when all hell broke loose, judging by the noises. And now that I’ve finished writing all of this it’s dead silent again.
 
The only thing that could make this night complete would be another knife fight, heard through my bedroom wall.
 
Have you ever heard of that species of duck that lives by airports, and they’ve lived there so long that they’re all born deaf now? Or maybe it was rabbits. I don’t know animals. Either way, I feel like if anyone were to raise a kid here, they would need to play it tapes of smashing bottles and police sirens to help it sleep on the quieter nights.

You’re sitting in your dorm room, having just finished class for the day. You’re bored.
 
There is nothing on T.V. because it’s three in the afternoon on a Tuesday and you have already seen today’s Judge Joe Brown. Sure, you could study or do homework, but that would be stupid. The roommate has already left for work and there is no one else around to keep you entertained.
 
You peek your head out into the hallway and look for signs of life. After wandering around aimlessly for several minutes, you find someone else in your predicament. Perhaps you find more than one person. There is still nothing to do.
 
“Hey, let’s go to the mall,” someone suggests. This is the best idea you have ever heard.
 
It’s not as warm outside as it was even a week ago, so you and your comrades head to your separate rooms to gather sweatshirts for the journey. As you put yours on, slight pangs of guilt hit you because you’re about to spend money you don’t have. You ignore these pangs.
 
The three of you rendezvous by the front door and step foot outside. Your journey has begun, and little do you know about the outrageous House of Oddities that awaits you.
  Full Story »

When I first stepped foot outside yesterday, I heard loud booming voices coming from what felt like all sides. After briefly considering the possibility that the United States had been converted into a V-for-Vendetta-like dictatorship, I concluded that the sounds I heard must have been music from a festival not far from my house. Not long after, I began to detect the distinct “festival food” aroma; a combination of fried dough, chicken fingers, and barbeque. I had to investigate.
 
At about 2:30pm, I headed down Pennsylvania Avenue to check things out. The first thing I saw was a big white stage occupied by a Bob Marleyish jam-band. Directly next to the stage was a Go Army tent. The young guy running the booth immediately tried to recruit me, but the whole time the guy was talking to me all I could think about was how shitty their tent location was. I seriously heard about twenty percent of what he said. Something about the Army Reserve, and that my being a student would make me “undeployable.” The band was rocking out too hard. I felt kind of bad, but not really. I took his card, went on my way, and promptly disposed of it.
 
I set out to discover what the festival was about. Having just randomly wandered over, I had no idea. Let me just say that I went to school in Baltimore City, so being the only white person in a large crowd is pretty much business as usual. I didn’t even notice that that was the case for a good fifteen minutes.
 
Not long after having this realization, I stopped to look at the work of a local artist. I asked her a little about her art, and then asked her if she could tell me what festival I was at.
 
“It’s the African American Arts Festival. We have it ever year.”
 
I told her that I heard music, smelled food, and just started walking towards the source. She got a laugh out of that, and at that point I told her it was good meeting her and I went on my way.
 
I walked around the rest of the festival, and it was pretty cool. I mean, it was identical in almost every way to the last festival that was held here (Towson Festival, I think?), but still pretty enjoyable. There was a photographer walking around and I was really hoping that he would take my picture, just so that he would print a caption like “The African-American Arts Festival draws visitors of all ethnicities.” And it would just be a picture of me looking lost and confused.
 
It might still be going on today, and it might be worth a look if you’re free. It’s good to be reminded that not everything about Towson sucks. There is a softer side.

To read Part I of “My First Parking Ticket,” click here.
 
I have been patiently waiting for this day ever since I got that ticket. A few times a week, I have been checking back on that parking meter to see if, somehow, it magically fixed itself. I don’t mean “fix” as in “work properly.” I mean “fix” as in “be broken as to benefit me and no one else.”
 
In the meantime, I have been playing a dangerous game of cat and mouse with the metermaids and parking lot attendants of Towson. My car has been bouncing around from spot to spot like Pam Anderson bouncing between Kid Rock and Tommy Lee. Actually, comparing those two to a parking spot isn’t fair… to the parking spot.
 
In trying to constantly stay one step ahead of The Man, there have been some early mornings for me. Waking up at 8 to move my car, constantly looking over my shoulder, waking up in a cold sweat in the middle of the night. It’s been rough. But if you read the title of this post, you should already know where this is going.
 
THE PARKING METER BROKE AGAIN!!!!!!!!
 
*****Confetti*****
 
This makes me so happy, I can’t possibly express it. My car is sitting there right now and there’s nothing that anybody can do about it. Suck on that, Towson.
 
I may never drive it again; I might just leave it there forever.

As much as I enjoy writing on this blog, I sometimes have occasion to write something non-Towson/college related. And until I can figure out a good place to put those somethings, I’m going to put them on here. I’ll give you fair warning though and tell you in advance.
 
For example, I’m posting a story right now that has absolutely nothing to do with what this blog is about. That being said, I’m going to post it here anyways and those who aren’t interested can just skip over it. Fair? If you want to read it, just click Full Story.

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