The cinderblock, the rank smells, the
dissonance of voices all crying out for food, water and rest.

Evan McGarvey

Nah, it’s not the slums of a newly freed eastern European
nation-state: it’s your favorite residence hall! For those of
us unprepared to enter the big-boy world of off-campus living or
for those of us unable to find roommates (read: mouth-breathers),
the dorms are, too often, the site of makeshift and delightfully
torrid parties.

It’s sort of like having your own club except for the
omnipresent photos of your family (who are very, very disappointed
in your choice to crunk away) and the convenience of a bed mere
inches from the party zone I often like to refer to as the
“crunkalation epicenter.”

Okay so for those of you that aren’t squealing, “Oh,
but whatever will my roommate say! He/She is such a diligent
student, they shan’t like the rowdy dirty South atmosphere of
the celebration,” I remind you that unless your roommate is
totally abject to partying, this plan is a go. If they really
don’t like having a good time I suggest making up a religion
with elaborate ceremonies that force your roomie out for extended
periods of time. Or you can just take to dancing to ABBA in the
nude like I … I mean my dad’s friend did once …
I think.

Anyway, dancing Swedes aside, when a dorm party goes well, you
get everybody involved. Trust me, your dorm has more potential
crunkateers than you could have imagined. The smelly kid, the hot
girl from Bio, your RA, your dad, Kofi Anan, Enrico Fermi, that one
dude with the trucker hat, the three snobby girls who always wear
flip-flops, and the sweet-natured but goofy international student
from Russia, Uri. Play your cards right and soon enough that
totally fit guy/girl of your choice will be cold lampin’ in
your crib to the sweet strains of D’Angelo or possibly Young
Buck. Lights off, game on.

Yeah! YEAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!!!!

Mind yourself though, as unwieldy use of crunk juice and related
party items can tarnish your reputation. You don’t want to be
the only one on your loft blissfully singing along to
“Everybody” (Backstreet’s Back).

Dorm parties can serve as a wonderful aperitif to a partying
career in the comfort of your own space. Unfortunately, if
you’re a boarding school veteran like me, then you’ve
undoubtedly seen the immeasurable damage a prolonged party life can
inflict. As a nice change of pace, I’d advise the always
refreshing progressive parties thrown by the trumpet section. Save
the ultimate blowout dorm party for the end of the term or any
other climax you’ve observed in a college gross-out comedy
(“Van Wilder,” “Old School,” or
“Dangerous Minds”).

So dear crunkateers, best of luck on planning that next
exuberant shindig and may the crunk be with you. Now if
you’ll excuse me, there are some matters of wildin’ out
that demand my attention.

Uri, pass the crunk juice.

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