Liberal Arts and Jobs

With the economy in the tank and the class of 2009 hanging out in their Mom's basement, or wearing a bright orange t-shirt and visor that say "Dunkin Donuts" instead of a power-suit to work everyday, colleges and their students are starting to rethink the traditional liberal arts education, for better or for worse.  A piece in the New York Times reported that:


Even before they arrive on campus, students — and their parents — are increasingly focused on what comes after college. What’s the return on investment, especially as the cost of that investment keeps rising? How will that major translate into a job?

The pressure on institutions to answer those questions is prompting changes from the admissions office to the career center. But even as they rush to prove their relevance, colleges and universities worry that students are specializing too early, that they are so focused on picking the perfect major that they don’t allow time for self-discovery, much less late blooming. The piece then goes on to talk about how numerous colleges are focusing on providing majors and programs that are more relevant in the job market, and dropping majors that don't typically result in jobs and that have become unpopular in recent years.  For example, the University of Michigan recently created 100 entrepreneurial classes while it simultaneously dropped its classics major.  

 All of the educators interviewed in the New York Times piece seemed to think that adding more job-market-relevant courses was a good thing.  But there were some reservations.  The Dean of St. Michael's, a liberal arts school in Vermont highlighted the value of a liberal arts education when he said: “The humanities tend to educate people much farther out. They’re looking for an impact that lasts over decades, not just when you’re 22.”  I personally am glad that liberal arts colleges are starting to diversify in a skeptical manner.  I think that the liberal arts education--which teaches how to think critically and analytically as opposed to how to perform a particular job--is the cornerstone for a well rounded person.  But it also has its setbacks, especially when--for the classes of 2009--real jobs are harder to come by than a strip club in Saudi Arabia, and recent graduates are earning less than ever.  In most liberal arts majors you learn a lot of amazing information, but often times this information is hard to apply to the real world. Take me, for example.  At the liberal arts school I attended, my major was a mix of environmental science, economics, and politics.  In my economics classes I learned tons of information about markets and how economies function as a whole, but I didn't learn a damn thing about my own money.  I can tell you what will happen to the price of a can of Coca Cola when there is an aluminum shortage, or the tenets of a Marxist economy, or why many of the U.S. trade policies are disadvantageous to the economies in the developing world.   But let's say I were to win a million dollars in the lottery, even after all those economics classes I took, I wouldn't have the slightest idea about how to invest my money.  I'd either A. have to do some serious research or B. hire someone who majored in business at a non-liberal arts school to invest it for me.  This is problematic, and a happy medium between learning about the flow of revenue into a random Asian company versus the flow of revenue into my own wallet should be struck. The liberal arts education is great, unless you're a philosophy or ethno-musicology major making the same amount of money by mowing lawns with your B.A. as you did mowing lawns in high school.  Which is why I think it's great that liberal arts colleges are starting to give a greater focus on relevant courses.

Maybe something good will come out of the current economic downturn after-all--liberal arts majors who not only know how to think, but also how to function in a real life work place. 

Parents Don't Need to Know

Your parents are usually going to assume that you are spending your time drinking on the weekend.  And rightly so—it’s college.  What the hell else are you supposed to do? 

But when your parents call you on Saturday morning—praying that you are alive or that the voice that picks up your phone won’t say “hello, Clark count Jail”—there is a strict protocol that I HIGHLY recommend you follow so that your parents don’t know you’re partying on the weekends:

1.     Usually the first thing that a suspecting parent will ask is, “hey how are you?”  ALWAYS THINK ABOUT THE TONE OF YOUR VOICE BEFORE YOU ANSWER THIS QUESTION.  Is it raspy?  Does it sound like the lead singer of AC/DC?  Change that.  Always answer with “good.”  But don’t make it a deathed out, I just smoked a whole pack of cigarettes and my head feels like it’s going to explode “good.”  It should be a “GOOOD!” that would win you the Miss Congeniality award in a beauty pageant.  This will throw the parents a curve ball, and they will become disoriented.  

2.     While they are disoriented, make the first strike.  Remember, they called you to interrogate you about how hard you’d partied the night before.  Don’t stand for it, you’ve got to hit them hard and you’ve got to hit them heavy.  Take control of the conversation—you’re driving this damn bus.  Ask them something completely random that will buy you ample time, such as, “hey how’s Aunt Mabel down in Reno doing?”  Not only will they have to tell you how Aunt Mabel is doing, they will also be pleasantly surprised that you give a shit about Aunt Mabel (which you may or may not).

3.     While they are rambling off about Aunt Mabel, have your roommate—and I can’t count how many times I had Perry do this for me—go onto your college’s website and bring up the event calendar.  Have him or her write down a few school-sponsored events that happened the night before.  Only then will you be ready for the question that your parents really called to ask.

4.     So when the question comes—“so junior, what’d you do last night”—never, absolutely never under no condition, say, “oh not much, just hung out.”  Your parents went to college too, and when they “didn’t do much, just hung out” they drank a twelve pack and conceived you.  Saying, “not much, just hung out,” is like saying “oh, just drank more beers than I can count on one hand.  Oh, and by the way, I’m going to fail out this semester, I hope you didn’t give the X-box to that neighbor kid.”

5.     This is where the school-sponsored events that you had your roommate write down come in handy.  When the question comes—“so what’d you do last night, Junior?”—look down at the paper he or she has so delicately prepared for you.  Then hit you parents with a Mack God Damned Truck—“Oh just went to the East Indian Dance concert at the arts center.  It was hosted by the Indian club, and they had SUCH wonderful Naan.  Not to mention, the five-dollar cover charge went to help orphans in New Dehli.  It was an amazing time.” 

6.     That’s all you need to say.  The interrogation is over—game, set, and match, you.  And not only will your parents be relieved because they think you weren’t at a party, they will be proud that you took part in all the wonderful cultural opportunities that college has to offer.  

7.     Also, if they suspect bullshit, they can look it up on the calendar.  Evidence baby—“if the glove does not fit, you must acquit.” 

The Great Swan Purchase

In the spring of my sophomore year, Perry and I started a rumor that made its way across the entire campus.  It wasn't damaging to anyone's reputation, but it was quite ridiculous.

The rumor started like this ... It was a nice spring day and Perry and I were having lunch in the dining hall with a big group of people.  There were probably 12 of scrunched into one long table, chatting about the upcoming weekend, which was prospective freshman weekend--a weekend where prospective freshman and their parents come to visit the college.  It was a brilliant sunny day and after eating, everyone was looking out the windows at the pond that surrounds the dining hall.

Suddenly, a swan swooped over the pond and gracefully landed right into everyone's field of vision.  We'd all seen the swan before--it had been living in the pond for the last few days.  Our school's pond had never housed a swan though--a few ducks here and there--but never a swan, and people were genuinely excited about it.  Especially the stoned hippies--"whoa brooo, a beautiful creature from mother nature, he kinda even looks like Jerry Garcia if you look at him from a weird angle," you get the picture.

One of the kids at our table commented on how great it was that our pond--whose bottom was, and still is, filled with empties and other garbage--was now home to a beautiful white swan.  His statement caused my mind and tongue to run wild, Perry backed me up, and the great swan purchase rumor began:

Kid 1: That swan is so cool.  I love that it's living in out pond.  It's a gift from nature.

Me: Yes, it's nice to look at, but have you considered the financial and ethical implications of that swan?

Kid 2: What?

Me: The president of the college paid 20,000 dollars for that swan.  He bought it because prospective students and their parents are coming this weekend.  Then they injured its wings so it can't fly far enough away to leave the pond.


Kid 1: Wait, what?  No.  That can't be right.  Why would he do that for prospective students?

Then Perry jumped in.  He knew what I was up to.  He was like Van Damme in Bloodsport ... no hesitation, no fear, no mercy, a professional killer totally in the zone.

Perry: You didn't already know about the swan?  I thought everyone knew about the purchase of the swan.  What the hell happened to campus activism?  Anyways, the president bought the swan so prospective students and their parents will walk past the pond, see the swan, and then think "hey look at that magnificent swan.  This place is lovely, it's like a fairytale campus."  Then the parents will be like, "shit Jr., I'll pay 50 grand a year to send you to this place.  Wait, let me get my camera, pose in from of the swan."  Next thing you know, we have a bunch of kids enrolling for next year who before seeing the swan were only 'considering' even applying.


Me: Ya, the idea is golden.  I heard they crunched the numbers and calculated that the swan will get at least one or two prospective students to come to this dump.  Think about that, over four years that's like $200,000 a person.  If the swan convinces 5 people that this is a quality campus ... BAM SONNNNN it's like a million dollar swan.  Granted there are ethical considerations, like the livelihood of the animal itself, but the president doesn't care, he's a bottom line kind of guy.  The swan's pain is our gain.


Everyone at the table in unison: Wowwww.  That's crazy, that poor swan ...

The whole table believed EVERY word of our story.  Perry and I walked back to our dorm chuckling about the cock-and-bull story we'd just concocted.  But we didn't think much of it after that.

Until two days later.  While in the dining hall, we overheard some hippies talking.  "Dude, did you hear the president payed like 20 grand for that swan?  Ya, to get prospectives to come here.  But the messed up thing is, man, they injured its wing so it can't fly far enough away to leave campus.  It's really, really kinda effed up."  We turned around and looked back at who was speaking.  We had never even seen these dirty hippies.

Two days after that, a girl we vaguely knew came up to us to chitchat.  At some point in the conversation she threw in "hey guys, did you hear about how the president paid like 20,000 dollars for that swan, then like broke it's wing so it can't leave campus?"  "Nooo, really?  Tell us about it, it sounds like foul play me," we'd respond.

By day five we'd heard our story about the great swan purchase from at least 10 totally different, seemingly unrelated people each.  The story had completely rounded the campus.  It had economics kids debating cost benefit analyses of the swan purchase at lunch, and philosophy kids debating the ethics of animal exploitation at dinner.

The story of the great swan purchase culminated when the college newspaper wrote an article that debunked the rumor.  But it was too late, we'd had our fun.

Study Abroad Tips

A few study abroad tips from me and other people on the internet:

• As an American, you are allowed to talk twelve decibels louder than anyone else.
• If you get in trouble with the the government, your best bet is to threaten to tell the US government that there's oil there.
• Wearing an American flag t-shirt is not the wisest wardrobe decision.
• None of your friends will want to hear your study abroad stories when you come home.
• You'll never have this opportunity again, so feel free to waste as much of your parents money as you can.
• Pay extra for an imported Budweiser at any bar you go to, then scoff and say "best beer in the world," just to piss the locals off.
• No matter what happens, always have your dad's credit card number memorized.
• Sweatpants are not appropriate classroom attire in any country except America.
• “I am American” isn’t exactly an excuse for being ignorant and obnoxious, but the locals will accept your faults better if you say it.
• If you hear a shitty American song at a bar in , instantly become very proud of it and feel it represents your entire culture.
• Do not bring drugs.  Drugs are probably legal where you are going.
• Do not get in fights with the locals.  People in the third world have nothing to lose.  Literally.
• Don't be disappointed to see American fast-food when you arrive.  It doesn't make your experience any less authentic--you'll be eating there everyday after the first time you get food poisoning.
• In Spanish speaking countries, you can't get away with adding o to the end of every wordo.  
• Check you abroad insurance policy before you Run with the Bulls in Pamplona, or enter a Muay Thai boxing match in Thailand.
• You have a 75% chance of getting roofied.  Deal with it.

Interview With Duncan Birmingham

I recently did a Q&A with Duncan Birmingham, author of the awesomely funny blog Pets Who Want To Kill Themselves.  I thought everyone would like to hear what he had to say about blogging.  He's as funny over IM as he is in the blog, make sure to vote for his blog here for a South by Southwest Web Award:

me:  hi

i guess first of all, what gave you the idea for the blog?

 duncan:  lets play hardball

me:  ha ha exactly

 duncan:  the only holiday cards i keep on my fridge all year around are ones with pets on them. it got me looking for similar photos on the net. i came up with a funny title and just starting compiling them with captions. it seemed like the kind of thing that would go viral and luckily it did.

by pets, i mean dressed up pets in santa suits and reindeer antlers.

me: so you had a feeling it would go viral?

 duncan:  i did. i'm not a huge internet guy, but i have taken a few stabs at tossing something out there in hopes that it will go viral (see my Mr. Pickles sketch on my web page for example of not going viral). The title was really the key. It just sums up exactly what's funny about the phenom of dressed-up pets. Within 10 days the website was in New York magazine.

 me:  10 days?  wow, that's insane.

then the book deal came soon after?

duncan:  it did. i think because it's on tumblr where a lot of media-types are so it was very easy for them to spot it. you're familiar with tumblr?

 me:  ya somewhat.  i've used it a little bit.

 duncan:  yes, then i got calls about a book within a few weeks, founds a great agent and we did the deal pretty quickly.

the sad irony is that i worked on a serious novel for two years that i couldn't get published and then this silly thing fell in my lap

 me:  wow.  that's interesting.

did you track your site hits at all?

 duncan:  weirder still is that i don't have any pets (yet) and terrible with computers (as you can tell)

 duncan:  i use google analytics. i don't check often, but i probably get 20,000 on a great day when the site is in the press and on average 7000 viewers. i got 50,000 when the site was on the front page of the NYT in March

but 7,000 is the usual.

me:  wow.  that's a huge amount of traffic.  no wonder the book deal came through so quick

do you think being a writer helped at all?  i mean, the captions below are amazing and concise

 duncan:  i hope being a writer helped a little bit. i mean the captions usually make me laugh. it's not easy to look at your 50th photo of a dog wearing a backwards baseball cap and think of something funny to write. i like to think of it as a one-panel comic strip like The Far Side. but with more poop jokes.

i write screenplays in L.A. if i could think of a plotline, i'd love to do Pets Who Want To Kill Themselves the movie

 me:  if you could think of a plot, i think it could definitely be funny

has the blog helped your screenplay writing get noticed more?

 duncan:  i don't think so. i've been having a good year with screenwriting regardless. it is a fun icebreaker if a producer has seen the book at Borders and recognizes my name. then they think i "do it all"

duncan:  but it has been really fun. i've corresponded with people all over the world, made some dough and next month am going to southbysouthwest where PWWTK is nominated for best blog!

 me:  wow, that's awesome.  i bet you're fired up about that

the thing is hilarious.  i read it and crack up.  once i had my computer in class and was looking at it and just started dying

do you plan on trying to start other blogs with the blot-to-book idea in mind?

 duncan:  thanks buddy

 duncan:  i've tried to think of ways to do another novel but start it as a blog to gain a following first---but i just haven't come up with what i think is a great way to do that. i think it's hard to launch a fiction book from a blog. i have been thinking about doing a screenwriting blog that includes screenwriting tips with hollywood stories and so that's an idea that would have book potential. we'll see

 me:  that could definitely be cool.

i'd read something like that.

but i hear you about the novel thing.  you might as well try to figure something out though.

if nothing else, your website probably gets enough traffic that if you linked out, quite a few people would see it and maybe it'd get some buzz

 duncan:  i would hope so

 me:  that's pretty much all the questions i have

actually one more. what do you think are the main things that helped your blog take off?

you mentioned the title helped

 duncan: 1. the title that prompted people to want to at least click on the site.

 duncan:  2. the format.humorous photo/caption formst is a well-worn blog format that's easy to read and a fun escape from work

3. the fact that it has to do with pets which are second only to porn on the internet.

4. the fact that it took a fresh, twisted view on pets. instead of another "cute" blog

thats it, really

Ballad of the Mongoose Part I

My twentieth birthday was unforgettable.  My roommates Perry and James gave me a child’s Mongoose BMX bike.  It was a brilliant candy red and navy blue color.  It had an obnoxious horn and pink streamers on the handlebars.  But best of all, it had pegs on both the front and back wheels.  It was my Cadillac.  And even though it was a gift for me specifically, it was really a gift for all of us.

From that day forth, whenever all three of us would go anywhere together, we would ride the Mongoose.  I would sit in the driver seat and pedal.  James would stand on the back pegs, clinging tightly to my shoulders, and Perry would sit on the handlebars, usually smoking a fat cigar.  If it were night, Perry and James would both carry sparklers. 

Trips to the dining hall were the best.  The only route to get down to the dining hall was by taking a long, fast, highly trafficked walking path.  The horn came in handy on the path, and more than once we narrowly missed small girls talking on their cell phones.  On the way down we’d pass classrooms whose walls were big, open windows. 

While sitting in class and listening to a boring lecture, people would see three grown men riding one Toys-R-Us bike fly by at speeds of up to 20 miles an hour.  The Mongoose was meant for an 80-pound child; somehow it could sustain all 450 pounds of us three.  

 Balancing 3 men on the Mongoose was an extreme test of our physical dexterity.  We’d get a running start to make sure everyone was onboard.  I’d get maybe 10 pedal strokes before we hit the hill—the bike’s tires bulging out and rims scraping the pavement as we began our descent. 

Riding down the hill we chugged past afternoon classes, professors, and students like a freight train on the wrong sized rails.  Any crash would have meant instant hospitalization for all three of us. But I am a trained professional.

Upon arrival at the dining hall our phones would explode with text messages from the people whose classrooms we had passed.  If it were from a girl it would be, “you guys are so funny.”  If it were from a guy it would say, “you guys are jackasses, can I be the 4^th rider?”

I never really cared about transportation before the Mongoose—cars were to get from point A to point B, not for flash.  The Mongoose taught me that flash is good—if you’re trying to get somewhere, get there in style and have fun doing it.

Filthy Rich Offer Best Bargains

The Princeton Review recently released their list of America's best value colleges.  To figure out the rankings, they looked at 30 different factors in 3 areas: academics, costs, and financial aid.  How they figured it all out isn't that important.  What is important is the list that they compiled.  Here are the top 10 private college values:

1. Swarthmore College (Swarthmore, Pa.) 2. Harvard College (Cambridge, Mass.) 3. Wesleyan College (Macon, Ga.) 4. Princeton University (Princeton, N.J.) 5. Yale University (New Haven, Conn.) 6. Williams College (Williamstown, Mass.) 7. Rice University (Houston, Texas) 8. Massachusetts Institute of Technology (Cambridge, Mass.) 9. Amherst College (Amherst, Mass.) 10. Wellesley College (Wellesley, Mass.) Harvard?  Princeton?  Yale?  MIT?  At first this list astounded me.  I thought these places cost as much as 16 Hummers filled with platinum chains.  But I guess it all makes sense--these schools have more money than most small countries.  They give out full ride scholarships like condoms at a porn convention. Seriously, they're all crazy rich.  I've heard that Harvard's swim team trains in a pool filled with 100 dollar bills.  And that Princeton has Beluga caviar and Dom Perignon champagne in all the dining halls at all times, mainly for food fights and champagne showers.  And that Yale actually bought all of the blow in South America to stop their students from doing so much of it.  And that every graduate of MIT is awarded with a degree, a mink coat, and a Bentley with 22 inch chrome rims. I really should have paid attention and not slept through high school.  Maybe I'd be writing this from a Bentley while wearing a mink coat.  Oh well. 50 Cent.  MIT Class of '95

Most Ridiculous College Classes Ever

Here is a list of some of the dumbest college classes ever offered:

14. Learning From YouTube at Pitzer College-  This one is great because you don't get in trouble for watching YouTube in class.  In fact, it's encouraged.
13. Arguing with Judge Judy: Popular Logic on TV Judge Shows at UC Berkeley- In the afternoons when this class is held, Judge Judy is the only thing on TV.  So even if you ditch, you're still stuck with Judge Judy.  Is this some kind of sick joke?

12. Finding Dates Worth Keeping at Sioux Falls College- If you can't find a date in this class, I don't know where you can.
11. Alien Sex at University of Rochester- Ummm, what?

10. The Art of Walking at Centre College- You start by learning the C-Walk, B-Walk, G-Walk, Pimp-Walk, and all the other gangsteresque walks.  Then your final exam is a Parkour Course.
9. The Joy of Garbage at Santa Clara University- This class is a great excuse for why your room is such a dump.

8. Cyberporn and Society at State University of New York at Buffalo- Or as I like to call it, an A+ for perverts.
7. Maple Syrup at Alfred University- "We elves try to stick to the four main food groups: candy, candy canes, candy corns and maple syrup." -Elf

6. UFOs in American Society at Temple University- The professor was actually abducted by aliens.  He just stands in the front of the class and trips out about it for 3 hours a week.
5. The Science of Harry Potter at Frostburg State University- Who wouldn't take this class?

4. Philosophy and Star Trek at Georgetown University- I wonder if this professor is a Trekkie.
3. Underwater Basket Weaving at University of California San Diego- Synchronized swimming + arts and crafts = this class and awesomeness.

2. The Strategy of StarCraft at University of California Berkeley- Great, now your nerdy roommate has a legitimate excuse for playing StarCraft for 39 hours straight.
1. Alantis Morissette Appreciation Class hosted by Diane Stark, not for any real academic credit- Isn't this ironic?

If you're interested in finding more ridiculous classes, just go to the Brown University Course Catalog, search around a bit, and enjoy.

Cocktail Cuts

College students are poor.  That’s a given—hence the Natural Light beer, steady diet of Top Ramen, etc....  When you have no money, you do what you can to cut costs, from the simple—stealing food from the cafeteria—to the extreme—living in your school’s library like NYU’s Bobst Boy did.  There are, however, some things you should never do to save money.  Here is one of those things:

It was sophomore year, I was poor, and my hair was shaggy and gross.  I needed a haircut.  It was a Thursday night and I planned to wake up early the next morning and go to the local salon for a haircut.  But when I pulled out my wallet to do some quick budgeting, I realized I only had 20 spare dollars. 

Since the next day was Friday, I knew I would need weekend supplies—beer and pizza.  I started to run the numbers:

Beer- $15

Pizza- $5

Haircut- $20

I was 20$ over budget.  Something had to go, and it sure as hell wasn’t going to be the beer or pizza.  I decided I’d have to continue to rock the dirty mop that had become my hair—until I was struck with a brilliant idea.

I had recently purchased an electric shaver to trim my beard.  Why couldn’t I use it to cut my hair?  I’d seen it done before—dudes on my floor would cut each other’s hair with electric razors all the time.

I yelled across the room at Perry, “dude, wanna cut my hair?”  “Oh HELL YA man,” he responded, “hold on though, let me have a couple cocktails.”  I didn’t know what to think of this—a liquored up rookie barber with a sharp, motorized object isn’t the safest combination, so I asked, “why do you need cocktails for this job?”  Perry’s response took care of my fears “oh, don’t worry man, the cocktails will steady my hand, trust me, I need to be on my game for this.” 

Perry slammed a couple cocktails, burped, and then announced proudly, “ok man, Cocktail Cuts is open for business.”

We went into the bathroom, I sat down on a stool, the electric razor was plugged in, turned on, and the Cocktail Cut began.  What follows is why I will never trust Perry with a sharp object again. 

I made sure the buzzing razor had a length guard on—I figured Perry would need the training wheels to help him cut my hair the right length.  “Ok man,” I told him, “just go over all of it with the guard on so it will be one length and we’ll be good to go.  Under no circumstances are you to take the guard off.” 

I felt halfway comfortable as Perry ran the buzzing razor from the front of my skull to the back.  But a minute or two into the cut, Perry started to bitch that the razor wasn’t chopping all my hair and that he wanted to take the guard off—apparently my $15 Amazon.com razor wasn’t strong enough to chop through my thick mop.  I didn’t care.  “No dude, you’re not taking the guard off.”

For the next ten minutes Perry kept going back and forth across my head, but it didn’t seem like he was making much progress.  Certain spots were cut to the right length, while others were still long—my head looked like a game of Tetris.  “Just keep going man, slowly but surely it will all even out,” I reassured him.

After five more minutes Perry became bored—what he thought would be a fun evening involving cocktails and a motorized chopping device was starting to feel like manual labor. 

I sat vigilant and unwavering as my mind drifted off and daydreamed.  Until I suddenly realized that at some point in my daydreaming Perry had taken the guard off the razor.  “DUDE WHAT ARE YOU DOING?” I shouted as I pulled my head forward to get it away from the unguarded razor. 

“DON'T WORRY ABOUT IT,” Perry yelled back as he lunged forward to continue the Cocktail Cut.  Mid-lunge his liquored up feet moved faster than his liquored up brain could process and he tripped.  The razor bashed into my skull.  I heard a loud BZZZZZZZ as I smacked the razor from his hands.  Then I felt my head in horror.

Perry had cut out a long, one and a half inch wide landing strip of hair, transforming it into pure white skull.  I now had a massive hairless white spot in the middle of my multiple length black hair.  I left Cocktail Cuts in disgust.  I would have demanded a refund, but Cocktail Cuts is a non-profit venture.

The next morning I went to a real haircut place.  I sat down, explained to the nice lady what had happened, asked if she could save my head, and took off my hat.  “Jesus Christ did he do a number on you,” the hairdresser said.  “I really can’t do anything but buzz your entire head. 

I left the hair salon with no hair, no money, and spent the entire weekend sober, pizzaless, and bald.  Some cost cutting measures come back to bite you on the ass.

It was a lot like this.  Click to watch.

Booze + Energy Drinks = Drunk

Here's a shocker from a recent scientific study--mixing booze and energy drinks gets you drunk.  Really?  You're telling me that mixing hard liquor with hundreds of milligrams of caffeine and chemicals may lead to intoxication?  Which may also lead to bad decisions?  Noooo, come on.  Ok, obviously this study brings no surprises, but here's what it had to say:

University of Florida researchers surveyed more than 800 college-age patrons leaving bars between 10 p.m. and 3 a.m. The participants were asked about their energy drink and alcohol consumption and then had their breath-alcohol concentration levels measured.
The 6.5 percent of participants who said they'd been drinking alcohol mixed with energy drinks were three times more likely to be drunk than those who consumed alcohol only. The average breath-alcohol reading for those who consumed alcohol and energy drinks was 0.109, well above the legal limit of 0.08, the study authors noted.
The researchers also found that bar patrons who mixed alcohol and energy drinks left the bar later, drank for longer periods of time, and were four times more likely to say they planned to drive within the hour, compared to those who drank alcohol only, according to the report in the April issue of the journal Addictive Behaviors.

Researchers estimate that about 28% of college students mix alcohol with energy drinks.  Many people say that Jager Bombs, Vodka Red Bulls, etc... are the nectar of the devil.  I've heard enough twisted stories that I'd have to agree.  You know, the stories that start with "So we were doing Jager Bombs ..." and end in "and then I woke up and I was face-down in a bush and I had lost my cellphone and it was noon and there was a dog licking my face."  But besides an unfortunate story or two, I think the worst thing that Jager Bombs have brought us, are dudes like this: