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The Daily Wildcat

The Daily Wildcat

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Letters from Mallory Hawkins

Hey, boy, hey. I bet you thought you were going to go by undetected after last week’s drunk girl column, but guess again, homeboy. Drunk guys are equally as predictable and humorous as drunk girls. The only difference is I do not need to teach you how to operate, you’ve already got your drunk boy routine on lock.

You first start the night with your favorite jams. Depending on the kind of night you are looking to have, you choose either the “”bro’in out”” or “”ho’in out”” radio station on fratmusic.com. The radio stations aren’t as good as the beloved playlists, but they’ll get the job done. When no one is looking, you get some bro-nods and fist pumps in, and before you know it, you’re ready for a night you won’t remember.

Early on, you limit yourself to a few beers. Although you do not intend on getting out of control tonight, you are not one to resist ladies beckoning you to take shots. Balls to the wall, right? Immediately you decide to use the long line of alcoholism in your family to your advantage tonight. You take each shot like a champ and high-five everyone afterward.

Spitting game comes second nature to a playboy like you. Swaying, seeing double or better yet, puking? It doesn’t matter; nothing can stop you. You are on fire. Every lady at the party wants a piece of you. Well, not exactly but that is what you have convinced yourself. With the confidence of the Old Spice man, it is your duty to make sure you fulfill these ladies’ wishes by grinding with them on the dance floor. When you come across a honey that strikes your fancy, you look to your vocabulary to help you out with the perfect pet name. If you know what’s up, you choose either “”baby”” or “”shorty.”” Now that you’ve showed her you care with the affectionate name-calling, it is time to make your move. This move will likely be a sloppy kiss or an attack on her ear. Either way, she is definitely going home with you tonight. Well played.

Now that you’ve secured the honey(s), you are ready to celebrate. Depending on your location, you either graciously buy a round for your lady and her friends or you take a few shots of Popov. The night is yours, and you are going to drink to it.

That is until someone challenges your machoness after beating you at beer pong or scamming on your newfound lady. You didn’t want it to come to this (who are you kidding? Yes, you did. You haven’t been getting swoll for nothing), but it looks like there’s going to be a brawl. You say a few choice words, and your blood is pumping. You hear the Rocky theme song in the background, but just as you start to raise your fist your homeboy holds you back. What are homies for if not to save you from a publicly humiliating ass whooping? No biggie. The night goes on and you still look fly as hell.

So fly, in fact, that if you wanted to pee outside on a building or fence nobody would even think twice about stopping you. You are a man; you don’t need to be confined to a bathroom. You are going to do the party a favor by leaving your mark, or name written in pee, on the back fence.

Now that your business is taken care of, it is time for another beer. As you continue to drink, two things become apparent — you will awkwardly be half naked while everyone is still fully dressed and you will forget your lady friend in the pursuit of food. Don’t ask how or why, just go with it. Remember, if you make it home with a Highland burrito or Pita Pit, the night will be considered a great success. The shorty is just an added bonus.

— Mallory Hawkins is a communication senior. She can be reached at letters@wildcat.arizona.edu.

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