Well college kids, its that time of year again. Winter break is almost over, school looms on the horizon once more, and you’re running out of chances to score with your high school crush. Desperate times call for desperate measures, my friends. It’s time to reach deep into that bag of proverbial tricks and pull out a little bit of last resort. It’s time to host a hometown party.

Everybody knows that a hometown party is just a big awesome excuse to get drunk with your friends from home and brag about your respective colleges until you either pass out or hook up, whichever comes first. For this reason, being the thrower of said party puts you on a level of cool all your own. Chicks will be all over you, trust me. I’m a chick. Don’t know anything about throwing a hometown party? DON’T NEED TO. Here’s my foolproof 5-step plan to hosting, toasting, and starting off your New Year right.

Step 1: Convince your parents to let you use your house for the party. This may initially pose a problem. Unless your parents are ‘the cool ones,’ they probably aren’t too keen on providing alcohol for minors. They’ll probably use big words like ‘irresponsible,’ ‘amoral,’ and ‘legal liability.’ Don’t be fooled, these words mean nothing. To convince your parents you need only utter these three magical sentences: “Mom, Dad, I’m in college now. I’m going to drink tonight no matter what. Wouldn’t you rather I did so under your watchful eye?†Then slip your Dad a twenty. He may be a father, but he’s a human first.

Step 2: After your house is designated the party house, go to the store and pick up some rad decorations. SIKE, only pussies decorate for parties, fool. And only fools say ‘rad,’ pussy. At the very most you might want to consider taking out the trash, and maybe, MAYBE, putting out some chips. No dip though. Dip means you planned. The coolest parties are ones that look thrown together at the last minute. For maximum effect, have your Dad asleep on the couch when your friends start arriving. After about 10 people are there, dramatically slap him across the face and yell “We’re having a party here tonight, bitch!†If he protests to this plan, another twenty should do.

Step 3: Invite some people. Not too many that the police are called, but not too few that no one even considers calling them. I’d say about 150 should do it. Take this opportunity to invite people from high school that were way above you on the social hierarchy. If college is only good for one thing, it’s leveling the high school playing field. Even people that were nerdy in high school can be cool once they get to college. I mean, not COOL cool, but cooler than they used to be. Come on, they’re nerds. They’ll never REALLY be cool. But you know what I mean. Cool for a nerd.

Step 4: Alcohol, alcohol, alcohol, and did I mention beer. A party isn’t a party without the “y.†Do you know what that “y†stands for? You guessed it, alcohol. Your high school friends are in college now. If you throw a party and there is no alcohol there, it technically no longer counts as a party. It’s now considered a shindig. Shindigs are for dorks and parents. When your mom and her friends get together for a night of Tupperware and yoga, THAT’S a shindig. If at least three people at your party don’t vomit, you’ve got a shindig on your hands. Do NOT let a shindig happen to you. Buy obscene amounts of alcohol and encourage the unhealthy consumption of it. May I suggest a highly competitive game of EdwardChampagneBottleHands?

Step 5: Bone. Once the bitchin’est party in Hometown, USA history is well underway, it’s time to use your position as party host to stick it to one of your guests. I suggest a line such as “Listen, I know you brought a sleeping bag and all, but I’ve got a bed, like, RIGHT upstairs. Howzabout you and me skip the floor tonight…†Make sure to slur the words “how†and “about†together with an extraneous ‘z,’ it makes you look drunk and cute. Whatever you do, try not to mention the fact that your bed is actually a twin with a large net above it holding all your childhood stuffed animals. Nice move, Casanova.