Everyone has a Steve Stifler in their friend group. He has rowdy energy, gives off an obnoxious first impression, and knows how to push people’s buttons. Yet, he’s incredibly funny, will literally give you the clothes off his back, and has loyalty than cannot be matched. 

My Stifler always brings the fucking party, fanny pack and all. He’s cemented himself as Stifler through unique party games, outlandish memories, and always commiting to having a great time. He’s the giant man child that every friend group integrally needs, because his main wish, akin to stifler’s, is to keep the party going. We lose sight of that as we get older, but Stifler has always been there to remind me.

The many hangouts I’ve had with Stifler have been filled with debauchery, nonsense and wackiness that encompasses his personality. Stifler has the ability of making the most mundane activities into something truly fun. Whenever the comparison is made of our friend group, it’s clear where he stands. That spontaneous energy is what he brings to the table. 

It’s easy to be there for the light though, he’s also been there through the darkness. The thing that people misconstrue about Stifler is that he isn’t a caring individual. Through my manic episodes and most importantly, through my breakup, Stifler was helping me through it everyday until it was reconciled. He would come over my house during that brief period whenever he could to support me. Similar to Stifler he comes off as the guy with the rough edges. But he cares, he loves. He’s shown to me many times through our many years of friendship. Although he comes off as a dick, he’s clearly our dick.

Stifler you are without a doubt one of the loudest, most hyper critical (he’s even one of the few people that made me rewrite their essay), over-the -top goobers I’ve ever encountered, but it’s all over shadowed though your giant heart. You’re my Stifler. Please don’t ever change.