Every group of friends has one of those nights.

You know the one. After a night of pre-bar Jack and Cokes, Surfer's on Acid, SoCo-limes and Jagerbombs (Jagahbahms...Jagahbahms...Jagahbahms), someone decides to drop a bomb.

Maybe there was a love triangle, or even the more rare love rhombus or love 3D box. Each is easy for a fourth grader to scribble in the margins of their notebook, but much too confusing to explain in the limited space available in this publication. Spending too much time with each other could have caused someone to snap, or there was simply too much alcohol in the air to let anyone in the vicinity think correctly.

The truth is, my friends and I had our first, and hopefully last, one of those nights last weekend after Penn State played Temple in Philadelphia.

There was yelling, swearing, me narrowly escaping a punch to the face, a couple slaps, crying and, of course, a little (a lot) too much alcohol.

After leaving the bar, mostly single file because of the susceptibility for another outburst, we arrived back at the house we were staying at and fell asleep on our respective couches, air mattresses and beds.

I lay there for a while, thinking about what had happened earlier, and I was legitimately afraid of what would happen in the morning. I woke up to the creepy sound of a fake fireplace lighting itself and just sat there for a while.

My friend -- a girl, so this doesn't sound like I'm friends with wimps -- came down the stairs.

"I'm sorry for slapping you," she said.

"I'm sorry for swearing at you," I replied.

She left and I sat there for a little while longer just thinking. I realized that good friends are ones who can have the worst night in the history of their friendship and not have it make their friendship history.

All of us subsequently talked about the night and realized that the whole thing was, well, stupid.

Thanks to quotationspage.com, I can insert a profoundly interesting and thought-provoking quote here, "the friendship that can cease has never been real," some guy named Saint Jerome said. I couldn't have put it better myself.

If you've had a similar situation that didn't work out quite so smoothly, I recommend looking back at it and reevaluating what came to be. Alcohol can make us do some stupid things, and showering in Jagerbombs isn't worth losing a friend over.

This year, all of my best friends will graduate (damn you freshman year) and move on and away from State College while I remain here to fight schoolwork as a super senior. It's comforting to know that the distance, and a few painful hours, will never tear my friends and I apart.

Our friendship will never cease, because it is real, and I hope in your life, you can say the same thing.

Vincent Ross is a senior majoring in journalism and is a film/TV reporter for The Daily Collegian. His e-mail address is vsr5000@psu.edu.