By Caleb Rogers
Little has changed for university students as they’ve left high school to start their prime years of beer pong.
Cringe back to every time high school students were blessed to have Halloween fall in the middle of the week. This gave them two Halloweekends of sweaty 16-year-olds packed into an Airbnb with enough cheap latex costumes to recreate a low-budget version of Ready Player One.
In 2019, when Halloween conveniently falls on a Thursday, first-year students once again welcome the nine day-long excuse to get drunk everyday with four handsome Squidwards, seven Joaquin Phoenix Jokers and one sad Heath Ledger Joker.
Despite the fact that Halloween was six days away, students started celebrating last Friday just for the excuse to get hammered and be anybody but themselves.
Did you forget all the shitty memes that happened in the past few years? Don’t worry, because you’re going to see them all terribly recreated at a party tonight. When asked “What are you dressed as?” the student will proudly answer, “I’m a sexy version of that yodelling kid.”
Any student knows that a good Halloweekend party truly begins when the attention seeker shows up in that inflatable T-Rex costume that takes up half the room. Watching them interact with the guy in regular clothes—wearing a shitty LED mask he ordered from Wish—is a sign you should be drinking the jungle juice faster.
After racing through one too many shots of Jäger, students’ attention will be turned to the beer pong table. It is at this most sticky battlefield where “Billie Eilish” duals that one 50-year-old who somehow always stumbles into a university party.
On the other side of the room, blessing other ragers and doing a sick handstand over a keg, is the guy who dressed up as Jesus Christ just because he has a beard. I haven’t read the Bible in a while, but I’m pretty sure Jesus doesn’t walk around with a six-pack of Palm Bay.
Just before the party ends, a sexy Mike Wazowski realizes he has to leave because he left his George Foreman panini maker plugged in on his bean bag chair. As he exits, Wazowski notices his shoes have been kicked into the bathroom next to the front door by that jackass in the T-Rex costume.
After sneaking past the fourth-year performing arts student in a Bojack Horseman costume doing a line of white lightning from the counter of the bathroom sink to “get more into character,” he grabs his shoes and calls an overpriced Uber home.
Students will collectively wake up the next morning on their bedroom floors, hungover as fuck. Despite the fact that it’s literally November, they can’t wait to start pregaming at 9 p.m. for the second Halloweekend.
“That yodelling kid was kind of sexy…” the student still wearing a vomit-stained Elmo costume admits. “I can’t wait to see him again for the next two nights.”