Why Graduating College Is Awesome

Too many 21 and 22-year olds complain about the harsh reality of having to graduate college and step into the real world. What's so bad about that? Sure, you can't wake up at 7am on Tuesday to polish off a case before going to your business ethics class where the professor rambles on about his failed marriages. There's too many positives about graduating to cancel the fun parts of college out. Let me explain with the top 10 reasons:

-You don't have to be poor. If you're lucky you'll have a decent paying job, so you should no longer be living 10000000% below the poverty line. Being poor is amusing for a bit, but funding your inevitable alcoholism gets pricey. College is an excuse to be poor, but the life afterwards allows you to not have to dig through your cough cushions for enough change to grab a 40oz. Enjoy saving your money and doing cool important things with it, like investing in the stock market or buying personal strippers.

-You get to leave behind the stupid people. I don't know about you, but I've had a lot of classes with a lot of the same people. Some of those people suck, and I can't wait to leave them behind in the dust. They're annoying, they smell, and they make you want to hump a razor. Never having to see people you can't stand is a great feeling that you undergrad dorks can't enjoy, so think of me next time you're stuck sitting next to the kid who farts a lot and eats his boogers. (fun fact: I've had to sit next to that kid one. Nothing better than calling out a kid eating his boogers in the middle of a class)

-No more shitty college food. Campus food sucks ass, it's a well-known fact. Being poor after moving off campus sucks too, because all you can afford is grilled cheese, mac and cheese, and every other combination of something and cheese. I'm sick of having diarrhea after eating crappy pizza or the chef's special personally. I'd rather enjoy my pinot grigio and salmon than your shitty fish sticks.

-No more homework. From now on, we get paid for doing work! No more 16-page papers on why velvet feels better than nylon or other stupid assignments. Bling bling, bitches! Work may be considered homework, but it's not homework if you get paid. See point #1, loser. When you see my ass back at Homecoming, you bet I'll be arriving by limo and walking out in an all suede suit pumping Rick Ross.

-Walk of shame. Everyone's done it. There's nothing better/worse than walking across campus in last night's clothes and sex hair waving to all your friends who already know what you were up to (and who you were in) last night. While it's great kicking someone out of your bed after a little morning action, it's not so fun when you're walking across campus in high heels at 9am. From now on, your hookups can be as anonymous as you want! When you bump your uglies, literally no one has to know! What a great feeling.... if you know what I mean.

-No more loud dorm sex. Ever try to go to sleep and you hear your nerdy roommate next door is going to poundtown with some broad? It sucks. Literally. There's no more of that. The only screeching moans you'll ever have to hear are when you personally decide to take a trip to poundtown. What a relieving feeling. No one has to make fun of the funny noises you made last night! You can keep your squeaks and shouts to yourself, so let loose.

-Gifts. Graduating college is a big deal, so it's time to reap the rewards! Grandma and grandpa are of course sending some cash your way as well as some gifts from your parents. It may be kinda selfish but screw it, you're an alumni and you bet your beautiful little ass you should be rewarded for four years of (hopefully) hitting the books!

-Graduation parties. The time between the last final exam ever and the commencement ceremonies are a time of debauchery. It's a well known fact that graduation parties rival the first week back and Homecoming as all-day fun fests full of good times and bad decisions. You may not remember partying with your friends for one last time but they'll always remember your graduation weekend where you streaked around the house and threw up on cop!

-No more dumb classes. Let's be real with ourselves - you were playing Angry Birds or creeping on ex-hookups on Facebook more than you were paying attention in class. No more going to classes after graduation! You can now do all of those in the privacy of your bachelor pad. Classes were the epitome of hell for four years, but now they can kiss your ass. Never getting to see the professor who talked about his cats all the time ever again is also a plus.

-You get a cool piece of paper. Eh, nevermind, I guess it's not that cool. Scratch this one and read about walks of shame again.

My $640 Million Wishlist

As anyone with Internet or a TV should know, the Mega Millions lottery has hit a whopping $640 jackpot. I know my luck, so I bought a ticket and plan on winning this massive amount of cash. Some may say that $640M is too much for one person to ever have. I say, screw them! Here's what I'll do when I win this money.

During the time my numbers are picked tonight (around 11p EST), I will be riding around downtown Columbus in a limo. (I'm actually not kidding on that) When I find out that I've won what is deservedly mine, I will instantly find the nearest cigar shop and buy the most expensive cigar there. I will then light it with a $100 bill and pay the limo driver to take our late night posse around to the finest bars and clubs. I'll buy a stripper at each place and add them to our posse. I'll probably right then and there buy one of the clubs I like and make it open bar for the entire place. There's maybe only a million or two dropped right there.

Once we are driven back in MY new limo, I'll pass out on my new memory foam mattress I ordered at the bar. I'll snuggle with my golden poodle tonight. Oh yeah, I'm buying a dog for my dog. Awesome, right!? I will wake up, take my routine morning poop, wipe with $100 bills, and take a golden shower. No, not THAT golden shower, but a shower made out of gold. I'll have one of my strippers sponge bathe me too while I read an issue of Forbes magazine. I'll get out and dry off with my brand spanking new full-body air dryer. They don't make them yet - I have the only one.

Since I'm not a greedy person, I'll instantly pay off my student loans, my parent's mortgage and any debt they've accumulated, and send like $10M for my family to split. Chump change, in my book. You can call me the Oprah of lottery winners. You get a million, YOU get a million, EVERYONE GETS A MILLION BUCKS!

After I'm done being nice, I'll probably buy the country of Greece. Why? Because I can. Gyros will now be called Jordanos. Greek food will then be called Jordan food. Back here in the states, I'll probably open a sweet club/bar with some sweet name that has yet to be determined and only hire the best DJ's in the world to perform. You're welcome, America! I'll go back home after my purchases to my new mansion.

Now, my mansion will include all golden toilet and showers, with rolls of $100 bills to wipe with, like I had previously mentioned. Each bathroom will have a bathroom, too. Why not? My living room will consist of a full wall which is a plasma screen TV, which is similar to the one Barney Stinson has in his bachelor pad. Memory foam sofas will line the room while sweet pictures of sweet shit will cover the walls. I'll turn on the TV and, wait, what's that? Looks my new team, the Los Angeles Lakers, are on TV tonight! Sweet! I'll run to my kitchen (which is conveniently a Chipotle/Cane's Chicken combo restaurant) and grab some snacks.

Once the game's over, we can head to my pool/jacuzzi that overlooks the city. We'll sip Dom Perignon while discussing our latest investments in Fortune 500 companies, of which I will be a board member of 6 of them. Of course, we'll be smoking stogies lit with our $100 bills. We'll converse about my new monument I erected in the town's downtown area. He's a handsome man, you know.

Finally, before the day is over, I'll have the P90X dude give me a workout personally while.... "enjoying" the company of the lovely ladies I brought over. They're nice girls, you should meet them sometime. I'll open the house up for a housewarming party that P. Diddy could only wish he could throw. Enough drinks to get the country of Finland drunk for 3 full weeks and enough Chipotle to send even the most strong stomached individual to the toiler three times a night. After everyone vomits and passes out, I'll have my branch of the local maid service come in and clean up while I enjoy watching my Lakers win again.

I only spent a 5th of my fortune too, and that's on a mild day. Imagine what every other day would be like....

@CanadaInAmerica with ideas from @XAD_13

Shit Stupid People Say

No, this isn't another video about shit llamas say or anything. This is, however, a rant about the stupid, overused phrases that the world needs to stop saying this instant. There are many reasons for why these terms needs to cease and desist. Some of them are just annoying, some make you sound like an uneducated dumbass, while some just make you look like an idiot when you say them. These are those terms:

"You Only Live Once"

No shit Sherlock, how long did it take for you to realize this one? If I lived more than once, I'd be a sweet ass velociraptor and not some guy writing blog articles about stupid phrases. This phrase has been around for a while, but then that guy Drake made a song about The Motto and now anyone who wants to be accepted is adding "YOLO" to the end of everything daring they think they're doing. No one cares that you're eating a donut while on your diet because you only live once. I sure as hell don't care if you don't buckle your seatbelt because YOLO. You sound like a crazed teen band fan girl, except with less brain cells. If you're going to pick a different inspirational quote, pick one that can affect people, something like "Shoot for the moon. Even if you miss, you'll land among the stars." I'd much rather people say SFTMEIYMYLATS than YOLO, because at the end of the day, YOLO both sounds like a ripoff clothing line and a dirty thing people do their wives at the end of the day. SFTMEIYMYLATS just sounds dumb, but has a real core meaning to it that can appeal to people who don't listen to mainstream media. Stop saying this dumb, overused phrase or I'll end your life that you only live once. Please.

"Dat Shit Cray/Cray Cray"

I want to hit Kanye West in the face with a fish stick for coining this dumb phrase. Made famous by being blurted out in Kanye's collab with Jay-Z, "Niggas In Paris," everyone has decided to lower themselves to the literacy of a flower by shouting this anytime something potentially wild may happen. There are so many other synonomical verses one can speak instead of "dat shit cray," including "That's nucking futs!", "Off the chain, yo!", and even the once overused term "This shit is bananas!" Nothing is "cray" about this phrase except for the amount of people using it, and the fact people still willingly use it despite using a word that is clearly missing a letter. Your 4th grade English teacher would slap the crap out of you if they ever heard you say "dat shit cray." Knock it off, crayfish.

"Sorry For Partying"

Oh, I get it! You went out last night and got like SUUUUPER wasted, and then tell everyone about all the crazy shenanigans you got into, and then you spout out "lol sorry 4 parteying!1" because you're really NOT sorry you partied! It all makes sense now. While the ladies in the pictures may be easy on the eyes, you still sound like an idiot saying this. In a world that has glamorized partying, this phrase just makes me think of that try-hard Kesha and her stupid antics. You don't want to be like her, do you? She's not even good looking. Anyway, this phrase is so overdone, especially by girls, who feel the need to stick it to the man because they had 14 cherry bombs and threw up on the bouncer. Sorry for partying! Everyone parties/has partied, and no one really cares if one does so. No need to address to the world how cool you are (not).

"Swag"

I may not fully understand the concept of swag, but from what I've picked up, it's what lame and uncool people need to get laid. To me, swag is attempting to bring your style into a world where everyone is the same. Well, if everyone is trying to bring their own style, wouldn't that make everyone trying to bring in swag, swagless? Swag is like the hipster, but only with flashy jewelry and stupid limps while walking. This fad needs to stop. If you need swag to get along in life, then you should reevaluate your life then. Leave swag at the curb, next to where the hookers and trash are. Find skill, intelligence, and logic, and then you won't need this "cure-all" swag.

@CanadaInAmerica

Types Of Blackouts Part 2

What, you thought there were only three kinds of blackouts we encounter when we torture our livers? You're sadly mistaken. Upon our scientific studies and field research, we've encountered even more types of blackouts to educate you on. We can guarantee one of your lame friends probably falls under one of these too. Observe...

The Angry Blackout

So get this: you walk into your friend's house and chat up a conversation with the cute girl in the corner. Out of fucking nowhere, a TV remote flies like a Randy Johnson fastball and sticks into the wall. You then hear a guttural scream that would even scare Bigfoot, followed by a series of battering ram-esque head butts to the window. So much for getting lucky tonight, as you're too busy running away from this disaster like ants under a magnifying glass. This type of blackout disaster tends to be a more rare breed, but always brings an interesting (and usually less than pleasant) experience. The angry blackout usually ends their night in a hospital bed with a plank through their arm or stuffed in the back of a cop car after a household appliance throwing frenzy. Avoid this guy like the plague, because anything in the path of this drunken tornado can and will be ripped to shreds. No one really knows how this person gets so furious, but this dark side tends to always come out when they pass the point of no return.

The Crying Blackout

Have you ever seen someone in the corner of the bar crying? Odds are, you have. You wander over to console this person and offer a hand of friendship. Little do you know that they're really crying because the last song played reminded her (these people are usually a 'her') of her pet hamster Willie that died 16 years ago in a tragic hamster wheel accident. Little do you also know that she's really not going to remember anything come tomorrow. The crying blackout really is self explanatory; they get drunk, and cry. They don't cry about anything important like friends or sports, though. They break out the waterworks for what seems like the dumbest shit. It must be important to them, though, which may make you question why someone is so upset that they had forgotten they lost their old 98 Degrees album in 4th grade. Daddy issues? Emotional issues? Simply just a hot mess? Who knows. The crying blackout tends to be a bit of a buzzkill, though. It was fun to poke fun at the crier the first 107 times, but after a while it just becomes pathetic. Seriously, you're supposed to be having a good time, not moping in a corner over spilt milk. No, I'm not kidding, she literally just spilt a cup of milk and may be suicidal now. This cheap novelty gets old after a while, but they don't want to leave. We suggest avoiding this blacked out mess, otherwise you're handcuffing yourself to an emotional train wreck for the rest of the night.

The Bad Influence Blackout

By day, they are your average person. Maybe even your best friend, perhaps. But come nightfall, this enabler and instigator will get you into so many shenanigans that will make you eligible for an episode of "I Shouldn't Be Alive." We're not sure what does it, but when alcohol mixes with this person's body, it sends the gears in their head spinning so fast that any person within a 2 mile radius is subject to his debauchery. A few hours ago, this guy and yourself were leaving the office. Now, you're at the bar doing a handstand with a stripper doing shots off your taint. But wait, there's more! How did you get to White Castle, and why are you showering in Big Red while hitting on the 57-year-old decrepit cashier? And why is there a Walmart receipt in your left back pocket for five bottles of KY Jelly, a tennis racquet, and bird feed? While your night may be a blur, you know this person is (almost) always a great time, even though they really won't remember getting into some sticky situations (literally). You're not sure why, but you do everything that this blackout demands. Somewhere between the verbal onslaughts of "YOU WON'T!"'s and "Duuuuude, don't be a pussy!", you decide that downtown drunken parkour really IS a great idea, even though you really know it's not. This blackout makes for some of the best stories, but there's a good chance you exchange a lot of your dignity or stomach contents for that story.

@CanadaInAmerica with help from guest contributer @dylan_helber

Party Rules Everyone Should Know

Have you ever gone to a party that a friend is hosting and you walk in the door and instantly think, "Wow, bro, this sucks hardcore bro!"? Well that's because someone has been a naughty boy and has violated at least one of the basic party rules that EVERYONE should know. These common sense laws are constantly broken, and it's about time some cleared this up. I'm tired of newbies crashing my shindigs and making them suck more than a 15-year-old Vietnamese girl. (I know I'm going to hell)


Rule #1: If you're a guy, bring at least one girl for every guy you bring. If you're a girl, bring more girls.

Nothing screams "having a good time" more than a good 'ol fashioned sausage fest. Seriously, I don't care how chill your 43 friends from high school are, don't bring them unless you are pulling 43 girls. As a male, I hate to admit it, but girls really are the life of the party. Without them, guys tend to drink themselves into an oblivion, and that's when shit gets broken and feelings get hurt. The guys you typically bring are douchey anyway, that's why they probably weren't invited in the first place, which leads me to my next point.


Rule #2: Don't crash a party unless you either know the host, were invited, or are planning on talking to the host.

I hate it when random kids walk into a random house looking for a random good time. We all understand that people just want to meet other people, but learn some etiquette! We all understand we have to eat but it doesn't mean we can plow our face into our meals and eat it like a dog eating out of a dog bowl. The one exception to this rule is if you plan on finding the host of the shindig, introducing yourself, and asking if it's cool if you stay there. More often than not, you'll receive an overwhelming "Eh, sure" from the host, and all of a sudden you're not a rando douche. EVERYBODY WINS. Remember not to walk in with 69 dudes though. Not only will you look like a tool, but the host will probably laugh in your face.

Rule #3: Don't be THAT guy.

If you're looking to go out and have a good time, go for it. But don't leave your house drunk enough to the point where you have to hold onto the grass or else you'll fall off the earth. Leaving the house like a drunken cyclone ready to hit a party will ensure one of three things.

1) You will get your ass beat for doing/saying/touching something wrong.
2) You'll throw up on someone. If you throw up on the wrong person, see above.
3) You'll pass out in a random location and wake up without a wallet, cell phone, dignity, or shoes, and/or have Sharpie dicks all over your face.

Seriously, this is a no-no. Don't be the guy who puts his hand in hot water, only to yank it out and test the water again in 5 seconds. Dumbass.

Rule #4: Don't be the chick taking too many pictures.

This is directed to the lovely ladies, because if you're a guy taking too many pictures at a party, you should probably just go home and turn on some Redtube instead. Nobody likes the girl who stands in the corner and stalks her pray for a picture. This isn't the Amazon of profile pictures, it's a social gathering where you're supposed to meet other people. No one will care when you upload 154 pictures from last night with you making the duck face next to 154 different people. In fact, you'll probably never be allowed at another social function ever again, so knock it off.

Rule #5: Don't come to the party ready to start a fight.

You know who you are. You leave the house wanting nothing more than to engage in fisticuffs. Here's the thing with your flawed and socially awkward logic: you're going to a house where the host obviously has a lot of their friends there to back each other up should someone get in a fight. That being said, going to a party to start a fight is like walking into Harlem with a KKK uniform on; you're going to get your ass beat and no one will shed a tear. They may even laugh, actually. Stay home and punch holes in walls or something, weirdo.

Rule #6: Powder your nose and meet up with Mary Jane somewhere else.

Look, no one really cares what your substance of choice is, but at a party, alcohol is the substance that evening. That being said, don't bring other stuff to a party that you know is either unwelcome or will get you in trouble. (Potentially see #1 above) It's risky enough hosting a get-together as it is, and we don't need to add class 2 substances to the picture. Don't find a room to smoke in without permission, don't do coke in the bathroom, and definitely don't shoot up while spitting game to that dimepiece. Those are all recipes for disaster that will not end well. Come to drink and be merry, not to stare at the ceiling for two hours debating why Phish is so much better than Rush.

These are only a few of the basic rules that everyone should know about parties, regardless of your age or grade. The rest of the rules... well, you're going to have to find out about them on your own. It wouldn't be fun for us professionals to see you newbies not make an ass of yourself every once in a while now, would it?

@CanadaInAmerica and guest contributer @dylan_helber

Funeral Theme Party Ideas

Funerals are never fun. Seeing someone you love laying in a casket while everyone tells stories of how awesome they were can leave the strongest person crying like a kindergartner learning that Santa doesn't exist. Funerals are always too sad, which is why I've decided that when people come to my funeral, they're going to have the time of their life. I can't decide which funeral theme I want to go with though, but here's what's on the table.

Viking Funeral

Who wouldn't want to attend a viking funeral? Here's how this would go down. First off, everyone must arrive with one of those viking hats with the horns on them, because those are badass. The service will include only the most memorable stories of yours truly, followed by a burial at sea. This isn't a traditional burial at sea, though. This would include taking my sexy but also deceased body, putting it on a boat, sending out to open water, and having everyone shoot flaming arrows at the boat until the boat catches fire. Awesome, right!? After that would come the reception. There would be an open bar (duh) that would serve nothing but Heineken and Beck's. There would be a tug-of-war contest in there followed by a jousting competition where EVERYONE is required to participate. Don't think I won't haunt your ass from the grave if you don't participate in the jousting, you disprespectful jerk. When everyone is finally piss drunk, everyone will sit around a bonfire and roast a whole giraffe. Hog roasts are so overdone.

Gangster Funeral

Nothing says "goodbye" like sacrificing some of your champagne on the carpet. This funeral would start with the pole bearers walking my casket into the funeral blaring "All I Do Is Win" by DJ Khaled. After a few nice words from my homies, I'll be laid to rest in the ground with enough gold and Hennessy to fix Greece's financial crisis. My casket is going to made out of pure platinum and will have diamond studs, mind you. Everyone will then swap stories at the reception, how I got shot 14 times as a 7-year-old for calling Wayne Brady a punk bitch, or the time I mistook Shanquala the corner tranny as a 18-year-old dime piece. That last one really damaged my ego. The reception will feature a fountain of malt liquor and will be highlighted by a performance from Rick Ross. Once everyone's too high to function or has been sent to the hospital, the last event will be a dominoes tournament, where the winner has 30 seconds to dig my body up and take as much gold and Hennessy as they can. Sounds pretty baller, right?

Classical Music Funeral

This funeral would actually require an IQ exam before entering, so you had better start hitting the books on 17th century German culture if you expect to be in attendance for this gathering. Assuming you pass the exam, you will be promptly handed a fancy wig and white powder to powder your face. Pale is back in, ladies! The funeral will start with a string quartet playing some stuff. I don't care what they play, I'll be dead at this point, just as long as it's fancy. Everyone will be required to start the overdramatic waterworks at this point. Once a eulogy is said about me using a ridiculous vocabulary that will confuse even the most well-refined scholars, I will simply be buried. Nothing special there. At the reception, we'll be serving cheese trays while discussing the works of Chopin and Great Britain's influence in the South Pacific. If at any point you sound like an idiot, you'll be called out, then promptly tarred and feathered. I wasn't kidding when I said to hit the books. The event will end with a performance of Swan Lake, the ballet. Enjoy!

Rave Funeral

This is by far the most interesting funeral idea out there. Before coming into the building, all of the attendees will spin a wheel which will decide what drug you are on for the day. Lucky you, you hit the bonus peg of the wheel! Here's your PCP laced joint and acid-wrapped ecstacy tablet. Once you digest your substances, three stagehands will bring in my casket, which has appropriately been turned into a 20" subwoofer. Tiesto will bust in the doors and deliver a 2-hour set that'll have everyone jacked up. No eulogy, no kind words of me, just dancing in the chapel and dirty things in the bathrooms. My body/casket/subwoofer will then be taken to the reception which will feature a set by Deadmau5 and Swedish House Mafia. By now the drugs will have fully kicked in, assuming you're not on the floor convulsing at this point. No food, no games, nothing. Just dancing at the reception. Once the DJ's end their set (at 5am), someone will probably try to steal my body/casket/subwoofer. Just let it happen, don't stop them! I won't care too much. 

@CanadaInAmerica

Types Of Blackouts

Let's be real with ourselves -- we all have had a little too much to drink sometimes and we end up waking up in the morning thinking to ourselves, "What the hell happened?" The answer to that may differ from blackout to blackout, with the only similarity being that we don't remember shit. What happens during our mini episode of Alzheimer's depends on the type of blackout we have. Now, I know what you're thinking - "There aren't different types of blackouts, dumbass. You just get drunk, do something stupid, and not remember lolol." My amigo, you couldn't be farther from the truth. Let us divulge ourselves into one of life's greatest mysteries: who we are when we blackout.

The Sloppy Blackout

Awarded "Least Likely To Hold His Alcohol" in high school

This is the most common type of blackout there is. You have a few too many shots and fall into a black hole of sloppiness rivaled only by the Flirty Blackout. You, in a way, become THAT guy. You are the person who trips over the pong table and flips it over, soaking everyone within a 5 foot radius and sending John to the hospital with a torn Achilles. You are the person who trips down a flight of steps and runs headfirst into the second story window. You are the person who mistakes the brochacho's dip spit container for a half full beer. These people often make for good stories and leave the victim with a damaged ego that makes then want to retire more than Brett Favre. Common symptoms for an incoming Sloppy Blackout include rambunctious hollering, gratuitous use of the word "bro," and the willingness to accept any bet, dare, or challenge put in their way. Ways to handle someone suffering from a Sloppy Blackout include, well, throwing any bet, dare, or challenge their way. Let's be real, you could get away with murder and the Blackoutee wouldn't remember. Use this power wisely.

  The Flirty Blackout

This guy!

One of the more entertaining forms of the blackout is the Flirty Blackout. This person goes into the night determined to take someone home, and by golly no one can stop 'em. Through hell or high water, they're gettin' it in tonight. As the night goes on, however, and the victim becomes more and more inebriated, the "game" this person is spitting sounds more like Dick Clark hosting New Years Eve. What was now a 3 on the scale is now an 8, but they don't need to know that! Where the ultimate sloppiness comes in is when the Blackoutee finally gets the catch of the night and is against the wall, licking the face of their partner like a popsicle on the 4th of July. The moves of this player-in-training rival that of a socially awkward llama. Symptoms of an incoming Flirty Blackout include awkward smiles whenever a member of the opposite sex pass, slurred pick up lines (diiiidd iiisss ddiiieeee nnn gooo tuh heeehhvunn be*hiccup*cus youu faayyysseee iissss liicckkkk aa mmuudd p-p-puuddllee), and the occasional over-the-top ass slap. A way to deal with this type of victim is to point them to the nearest person who would make for a great story tomorrow.

The Functioning Blackout

I'm drunk... and better than you!

On occasion, you'll run into someone who you can tell is blacked out, but still manages to function rather well. They can hold a decent conversation without sounding like Daffy Duck, maintains the dexterity of a 14-year old Chinese gymnast, and could probably debate the pros and cons of Reaganomics at a collegiate level while doing a handstand. This rare gem of a drinker is who alcoholics aspire to be. When they wake up in the morning, they may be often surprised about how coherent they appeared. You, on the other hand, are surprised they don't remember a minute of it. Symptoms of a Functioning Blackoutee include obnoxious debates about the 1977 World's Fair, shaking hands and kissing babies, and winning 37 games of pong in a row. How do you deal with people like this? You don't. You watch and learn, young padawon.

That's all for now, stay tuned for the next series of Types Of Blackouts in the future. And yes, I know I'm going to hell for some of the references made.

@CanadaInAmerica