Graduation is a special time of the academic year. Your parents' friends are sending you cards with money in them, and you're feeling bad because you still don't think spelling it "Congradulations" is funny. And you have to pack up your room and spend some time pondering just what the hell qualifies Damon Wayans to give a commencement address.

Packing is a long and arduous process full of ardu, but there's some stuff you just don't need after college. To streamline the process, I've compiled a handy list what to keep and what to donate to Goodwill for the next generation of little bastards looking for ironic gifts where some people shop out of necessity.

1) Your collection of _______. It doesn't matter what you put in the blank. Any collection you've accumulated in college will not translate well into the real world. That collection of shot glasses that made you look like a party animal? Welcome to alcoholism. Your back issues of Maxim? Let's buy a neon sign that says, "I masturbate but don't have the balls to buy real porn." Dried flowers boys gave you? Wow, hope being a librarian and having lots of cats works out for you. To the trash with all of this, and if you have to ask if you can keep your pogs, enjoy your parents' basement.

2) Your college girl/boyfriend. He's nice enough, but all of the sad, imagery-and-angst filled letters and three-figure phone bills in the world can't silence the message your heart has been texting your brain since May: that you can do better than a long distance relationship. In the immortal words of the troubadour Tom Petty, "I have never recorded a decent song." Just remember, when you said, "I love you forever," you meant, "Until I find someone who doesn't consider a game of Hungry, Hungry Hippos foreplay, jerk."

3) Your fraternity-letters tattoo. Oh, wait. Nice foresight, asshole.

4) Your "shelving" made of concrete blocks and boards. In college, it made you look ironic and thrifty and awesome. In the real world, it will just make you look poor. And not the "I'm cool and artsy" kind of poor. The "I'm poor" kind of poor.

5) Any t-shirt from a college event. Nothing is sadder than walking through Blockbuster and seeing some balding middle-management type trying to coolly kick back in his "Pi Phi Phantastic Phuckphest "'94" shirt. If it's less than fifteen years old, it's neither retro nor vintage, just kind of pathetic.

6) Your old textbooks. Even if you're going to grad school, there's no excuse for keeping some books; you're just holding onto them to try to look smart. Nobody needs a copy of Nietzsche by their bedside "just in case." Well, nobody except a pretentious jerk. No visitor is going to walk into your apartment and say, "Oh my God, she's got a multivariable calc text on her non-concrete-block bookshelves! The vector of my love bisects the plane of her heart!"

7) Your couch. We all have had that great thrift-store find, the green-plaid polyester sofa with the stains on it. The disgusting odors emanating from this piece of furniture defy identification, although most are some combination of melted Pez, semen, and squirrel blood. My own couch had anthrax growing on the far right cushion and the cure growing on the far left. You actually got healthier by sitting on the middle cushion, provided you didn't get tetanus from the exposed spring. This advice goes double if your couch is actually a futon, which has earned the title of "Clark Kent of Furniture" by somehow braving the duality of being both an uncomfortable sofa AND an uncomfortable bed. What an age we live in!

Well, there you have it. Or no longer have it, as the bad pun may be.

And of course, a special thanks to MagazinesForCheap for sponsoring this update. They've still got a year of Maxim and Stuff for $10. Yay! Now, hot-hot-hotlinks. Have a great weekend!