As the week grinds to a stop, college students everywhere begin their own ritual – going out. Whether its bars, parties, or clubs, you can bet on some poor decision-making and a groggy Saturday morning.
Turn on the straightening iron and blast some Beyonce while you try to master a winged eyeliner look. Picking out an outfit that says “I’m too good for you and I don’t care” is an artful process, and can take upwards of an hour. By the time you’re done you don’t even remotely resemble the puffy eyed monster that attends your 8 a.m classes.
The most math you’ve done since pre-calc in high school. If you average a night when you blacked out with a night you went home sober and bored, it should be a good level right? Once the vodka hits your system you realize that you might have overdone it – again.
Time to turn the charm on sweetie. My best, and only move is to make direct eye contact with a cute guy until he becomes so uncomfortable he has to talk to me. Unorthodox? Absolutely. Does it make men like me? Definitely not.
As you sip on your third Redbull Vodka she can tell that things are about to get messy – and she’ll be left with the aftermath. Two options remain, either she elbows her way across the bar to slap that straw out of your hand, or will be putting your hair in a ponytail two hours from now. She continue to wonder why she puts up with your sloppy a**.
Well in this case your ex boyfriend, lab TA for organic chemistry, and major crush on the football team are all watching. Sometimes you feel like the year of ballet you got at 4 years old laid the groundwork for what is now some super sweet moves. That’s until you see Snap stories the next day that make you wish you had never been born.
Might explain the 10 new numbers in your phone from last night. Apparently you think Miranda is sooo sweet and like the sister you never had. If you’re feeling less than confident drunk bathroom girls will make you feel like Gigi Hadid. I guess that’s why girls always go to the bathroom together.
You’ve spent at least $20 on drinks and think your tornado of drunk destruction has done enough. Leaving the bar you look totally sober and begin your stumble home.
It’s your favorite time of night, drunchies. Pizza, calzones or some French fries are beckoning you. It would be just plain rude to ignore their call. The wait is agonizing, but the food is so worth it. Just pray you never have to witness footage of your late-night eats – inhaling a gyro in less than three minutes isn’t your proudest moment.
Odds you wake up with six new pimples are sky high, but your bed has never looked so inviting. Come to mama.
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