“I’m Right. You’re Wrong.” is an advice column especially designed to help University at Buffalo students. So, if you have no one else to turn to (and I mean absolutely no one) drop off your question in our personals mailbox or email us at askgeneration@gmail.com. If you’re lucky, your question just might show up in the next issue.

Q; I’m new to the U.S. and just moved into Buffalo to come to UB. What are the easiest ways to meet the people?

TJ: UB has a smorgasbord of clubs and associations suited for almost anyone’s taste. Swing by the Student Association office and they will fill you in on them. Joining a club or a group is a definite way to make some friends who share your interests. If that doesn’t tickle your fancy, there’s a whole city full of people just a quick train ride away. Have you considered online dating?

P: Oh yeah, SA. That’s a great way to meet new people. That’s like going to Bangladesh and spending all your time at the U.S. embassy. If you decide to go that route, though, I say you join a club like the College Republicans or something. Or the juggling club I just heard about the other day. That’ll get you known as a genuine freak in no time.

Q: I just got an invitation to my friend’s wedding but the thing is, I can’t stand his girlfriend. She’s annoying and talks like she just inhaled helium—all the time. How do I let him know?

TJ: Go to the wedding without mentioning your secret hatred of the bride. Hit up the open bar for the entirety of the event—but keep it under the radar, you don’t want anyone to catch on to your record-breaking intake of gin and tonic. Then, when the sappy speeches begin, grab the mic and take the spotlight as the token drunk wedding guest. Call her a dirty whore and then cry about how you’re just upset that you’re “losing your best friend.”

P: You could tell him “She’s annoying and talks like she just inhaled helium—all the time.” It sure was convincing when you told me. There are a few alternative ways to handle the problem, though. Why not work a little spray paint magic on the bride’s car? I was thinking “cop killer” with a huge number three would do the trick. Or you could feed her salicylic acid. If it burns warts, it’s probably strong enough to burn throat.

Q: Everywhere I go people are talking about some guy named Ryan Miller. Who is he? Why does everyone care?

TJ: Ryan Miller is the strapping lad who defends the goal of Buffalo’s favorite sports team, the Sabres. Everyone cares because Sabres games are a great excuse to drink beer and watch hockey about three times a week. If they win, the partying escalates profusely. So, Miller better do a damn good job.

P: Ryan Miller plays sports. The left side of his face is elevated approximately one inch from the right side. This gives the appearance of an ill-printed newspaper. His area of expertise is wearing enough plastic shit to sink an alligator with water-wings and then squatting in front of a net with a cricket paddle. His helmet is decorated in homage to the beer that is his namesake with an airbrush, the way people design T-shirts in Miami when they’re addicted to drugs. He stops the hockey pucks. People buy tickets to watch him do this.

Q: Is there any way to get Generation at Diefendorf Hall on South Campus? We never get it here.

TJ: Build a karaoke bar in Diefendorf. The kid who takes the magazines out all over campus loves drinking only a little bit more than he loves singing. I can assure you Generations will get there if you do.

P: That’s been a problem in the past. Resident asshole Andrew Blake is too lazy to get out of his car for the two minutes necessary to drop the magazines off. I’m serious. The way Andrew has elected to “distribute” the magazine is by driving by South Campus at 40 miles-per-hour, breaking the plastic strap and hurling the magazines out the passenger side window, paperboy style. I’m telling you, it’s a miracle the magazines get there at all. I’m guessing your best bet is to stand out by Goodyear around 10 p.m. on Tuesday nights with reflective clothing and a catcher’s mitt. Look out for cops.