A.     Drive from Daytona to the gator farm in St. Augustine in the oncoming lane, while goofs driving behind you, like 8 Barrel and Starfire, pass the same car at the same time, on opposite sides.  (Mustang GTs can go off-roading, in case you were curious).

B.     Repeat this stunt (driving on the shoulder/beach to pass a car on the right) the next time you are in Florida a) to make sure it’s still stupid and b) for pussy whip practice when your Osco GF has a conniption about your psychotic driving.  “But 8 Barrel did it” will not save you.  Better start saving for a minivan.

C.     The best way to figure out if your Festiva can top out its 85 mph speedometer is to go with Pod to Starfire’s restaurant on the lake and drink like fish before the customers get there.  Then load in Pod and Mrs. Starfire in order to maximize the downforce (so the car doesn’t take flight – hey, it could happen).  Neglect to check to see if the speedo is in fact maxed, because you are too busy trying not to die at whatever crazy speed you're up to.  In a Festiva, this number is probably 65.  If the road is long and straight and flat enough.

D.     Pretend that you have the will and ability to quit smoking for the 13th time right then and there (at Starfire's restaurant).  Buy yourself a beer if your willpower lasts an hour.  It won’t. Repeat this futile Nicorrette dance each time you are drinking with Pod, or have a new girlfriend.

E.      Go to the pub in the mall with your new girlfriend Madonna, and drink two “Last Calls” (6 different liquors and 6 different fruit juices).  The recommended limit is one, so 2 should be just about right. This is a great time to play “I thought you picked up the check.”  Having Madonna waiting by the door with the motor running will sorta undermine the sincerity angle if you get caught.

F.      Go to the same chain pub in a different mall with Pod for some beers.  Then drive 110+ miles in 90 minutes (avg. speed: about 20 over the speed limit; avg BAC: about [5th Amendment] over the limit).  This is way more impressive than rushing the school newspaper to the printers 18 miles away in 13 minutes, back in the day, because it lasted way longer. Have a woman explain the benefits of lasting longer to you. Fail to remember it anytime it would be useful.  You rule!

G.     Repeat this run to Detroit numerous times, with variations: 

lose all the clothes off the back of your motorcycle.  Get a ticket.

blow up a Starfire in Parma.  Get ride at 3 am.

blow up your Pontiac on the way back from a concert at the Masonic Temple in Detroit.  Make that AAA card earn its keep. Try nott to dwell on the real live gang bangers you raced through through the Cass corridor with a car that was about to have a coronary.

drive to Canada to buy beer,

as Pod, have the police intercept you because you were driving almost double the speed limit,

take an abrupt detour to a lake in the middle of nowhere while you wait for the cop that noticed you speeding to NOT find you on the highway.

H.     Drive at highway speeds down country roads with your lights off, to see if that car that looked like an undercover cop really was one.  (He was.)  Learn how police interception techniques work in real life when the cops swoop out of nowhere and block you in.  If you brought “suicide pills,”  you can talk your way out of this by blaming a loose fan belt.

I.        Invent “suicide pills” (Velamints, in the pre-Altoids days) for just such an occasion.  Big Red gum works in a pinch.

J.       Try to figure out if lawn chairs can move that fast by passing out in one, after a day of painting Dribble's pool, and swilling Bartles and Jaymes wine coolers.  When you wake up, you will be on the other side of the house.  Huh?  Where’d those sprinklers come from?

K.    Develop healthy habits, like having Pod pick you up every Sunday after your shift at the car wash.  Go to Bacchus and grab a six pack of the weirdest beer you can find.

K.1  Meet someone named Kenneth S. Berman.  (NOT THE MASSACHUSSETTS DENTIST OR THE JAZZ PIANIST-AS FAR AS I KNOW).  Kenny works at Bacchus at some point, but will not give you a frat brother discount.  

Drive to AA for a football game with Ken at 2 a.m. on 11.1.86.  Tooling around Ypsi in a Yugo looking for a place to crash is more fun than you might think when you finally get there at 4 am. 

To show what a fun guy you are, knee Ken in the gonads for real one time when you are trying to just pretend to knee him. 

That trauma may affect his brain, which will retroactively explain the business card he carried around during the Reagan years:  "Ken Berman, Republican."  (Watch and rewatch the last episode of Star Trek TNG until you understand this reverse time phenomenon.)

Ken B. went to the same school as Brian Snell. Dribble went there too.  So did Jody #2, and about 10 other girls from your church that turned you down over the years.

L.      Every Thursday, go to Pod and Dribble's house for Euchre and must see TV.  Every Sunday, go for euchre, “Nature” and “Monty Python.”

M.   Be sure not to ever teach Dribble's Pomeranian to drink like you do, with proportionately sized doggie buzz units.  If the dog is walking funny, there has to be some different explanation, because you would never let a doggie go on a bender.  (Relax, PETA, the dog will live 15 years after that.)

N.    Be your ex-spouse before you meet her.  Drink (eat?) jello shots at a party.  It’s not like they count as booze.  Go home, thinking you're sober. When you suddenly find yourself in the middle of a field in a different county, hours later than you thought it was, figure out that jello shots DO count as booze.

O.    Remember that HS football game, the year after you graduated?  The one where the kid you picked on in band had to drive you home.  The one where you were hitting on the weirdo redheaded girl who lived near 8barrel, because you figured you could at least score with her (worry about consequences tomorrow, right?)  The one where your Mom was in the stands and saw all this.  Yup, that one.  Possibly everything can be traced to the pint of SoCo you were swilling in the bathroom under the stands.  You are SO COOL!!!  Dumbass.

P.      Go out for a walk and chain smoke about 4 More Menthols (the brown wrapped ones that look like thin cigars).  Convince the Minute Market dude that you’re stoned (although its more like nicotine poisoning and 300/200 blood pressure).  He will utter four words that will define your life (if your life parallels a guy named Chris and you are prone to turfing the high school lawn with your parent's Buick wagon and drinking codeine-laced cough syrup on boy scout paper drives):  "Keep that buzz goin.'"

Q.    (Remember the Minute Market for when need Merit Ultra Lights or a case of Lowenbrau to hide in your room or you get some girl named Cindy who drives a blue Sunbird to buy you a pint of Chivas Regal.  Ignore the fact that you could buy like 8 gallons of Huber beer for that price.)

R.     Get busted with smokes, because your sisters (Milquetoast and Buzzkill) found them and immediately suspected you and narced to Mom.  Deny that they are yours. Explain to your Mom that you bought them from a vending machine at Upper Crust (which is close to "I swiped them at Shifty Takers"), and you were going to trade them for tequila that some guy named Brian was going to get for you at the next boy scout camp-out (which almost sounds like "they're mine").  Mom will be so proud.

S.      Instead of tequila, takes that Chivas on a camp-out at TBJ.  (TBJ is a good base for a variety of alcohol fueled experiments.) Hit the bottle a little while you are on "keep the fire going" duty overnight, then load up the stove with as much wood as possible. Grab a smoke, because booze and smokes is what Boy Scouts is all about.  If only there were some hotties with you to complete the picture.  Then you could sit there drinking while your buddies scored. Anyway, now the stove cannot possibly run out of fuel before morning.  (It might melt and burn down the cabin, but it WILL NOT go out)  Criminal negligence is a disquieting thought, however, and Assistant Scoutmaster Darrell "Michael Jackson" Shithead, a future protective custody inmate will point this out in vivid terms at 4 am while you are trying to sleep.

T.      Try not to kill Assistant Scoutmaster Darrell "Michael Jackson" Shithead at that time or when he: 

powders his loins (to prevent crotch rot)  in the middle of a campsite (and in full view - where is shrinkage when you need it?), 

screams at you to GTF outta bed at 5 a.m. because he is ready to hit the trail,

feeds your shoelaces to the chipmunks,

adopts a kid nicknamed “Chipmunk” as his personal armrest and god knows what else.

U.     Hang out in the bar car on a long train ride from Santa Fe to Chicago.  Watch as your friends, including Starfire boy, Bagman and everyone else at the table, hit on a little blond girl nicknamed “Ducky” (Scare yourself by remembering her real name and address at the time 22 years later.)  Anyway, take the seat next to her and do not give it up for anything.  Outwit, Outplay, Outlast.  Eventually Starfire will go downstairs to poach drinks.  Those wussie 16 year olds will tire or grow bored.  Eventually it's just you and her, and amazingly, she is interested and not even intoxicated.  Batter up.  Right after you round 2nd base (with no clue what 3rd base entails or how to get there), SB will appear from the bar level and just stand there until you notice him.  He wants to "talk",  and the rhymes with duck moment is suddenly over. Surprisingly, you do not kill him right then and there. To complete the disastrous end to this brief romance, write stupid, clumsy letters to this girl. As a bonus, you can brag to people (who surprisingly don’t give a f***)that you have a girlfriend in Cali, since she has never told you to get lost.  People with actual experience in these sorts of things know you don’t have a girlfriend in Cali, and her mom, who read your moronic ramblings, has sent the poor girl to a convent.

V.     Your sister Buzzkill will go to a Big 10 school and will become the anti-you by joining a group of religious freaks.  No booze, no smokes, no sex, no dancing, no touching, no unchaperoned interaction. And no fun, as far as anyone can tell.  But lots of praying and some of the most stilted tone-deaf arrhythmic "singing" and "dancing" to crappy music you can imagine.  (Try to sing and dance "Jesus is lord/ I refuse to think for myself anymore/please donate to my church" to a funeral dirge or a Teletubby song.  Clap, in a faux-backbeat, for the full effect.) Anyway, her arranged marriage future husband, Skippy will appear to be cloned from the same catatonic space pod.  His folks (from Cali) will spring for an open bar at the rehearsal dinner, correctly assuming that it will be populated by your local tightass relatives and the space couple's crazy, uptight religious freak friends (i.e., a cheap, under-appreciated gesture - plus they can get through this without the pain of sobriety).  Make them regret that decision to buy YOUR drinks and show your appreciation by ordering drinks for the whole table (most of whom will be horrified by their proximity to alcohol).  Offer to drink whatever is left over, because "waste is a sin."  Be the last person to toast the future couple (who, at this point, haven’t even kissed each other).  Do it with a beer in hand for dramatic effect.

W.  Then, take Buzzkill’s future brother in law, who is a normal dude, to the local bars.  Drink way too much, but don’t kill anyone while driving around.  The next night when all the cool people (that guy, his folks, you and a friend) are drinking in the folks' hotel room, just keep your damn mouth shut when the Dad thanks you for being “safe” the night before.