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How to Throw Your First REAL Party of Winter Quarter

Welcome back, ladies and gents! Who’s excited for 10 weeks of minimal sunshine, bitter wind-chill, and drinking until you can’t see straight? We know we are. It’s no shocker that winter quarter has its downfalls, but who’s to say you can’t still have a great time? While all your hometown friends are enjoying that semester-style break, throw a rager to tame all your inner winter quarter demons. Here are a few tips we’ve compiled so you can throw a bangin’ winter quarter rage.

Step One: Kill a Winter Lamb
Nothing like a little bloodshed to get the party going. Go to the Lincoln Park Zoo and steal yourself a nice and juicy baby lamb. Bring him to the party, get him buzzed, and then kill him.

Step Two: Invite Holtschneider and DIBS
Get this party popping!!!! Call up Big Daddy D and that sexy blue demon and invite them in.

Step Three: Invite Your Step Dad
Yeah! C’mon down, Billy Boy! You know that guy your mom married who is always trying to act like your real dad and read the Bible before bed? Well, he’s a fantastic partier! Tell him to bring his best pair of khaki shorts and white knee-socks. All are welcome!

Step Four: Make People Drink a Handle of Fireball at the Door
Show those pussies just who’s sweaty Chicago apartment they are partying in tonight. Those who dare ring your doorbell must chug all 60 ounces of sugary cinnamon lighter fluid!

Step Five: Cut Your Toes Off
Just go fucking nuts and start chopping your toes off like a madman.

Step Six: Invite the DePaul College Republicans
Don’t forget to keep the party interesting. Call on the College Republicans and have them bring those Vineyard Vines tainted white boys. They’ll bring the Natty light if you bring your virginity!

Step Seven: Ask the Boy’s Basketball Team to be Strippers
Searching for some extra party entertainment? Look no further than the boys who dedicate their lives to bouncing balls and breaking sweats. Have the rocking b-ball team get low on your horny little booty. Get your $1 bills out of your pockets and stuff those babies into their sweaty Under Armor spandex. Nothing sexier than the shooting guard’s sweaty abs up against your face.

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