Are You In A Fraternity? Buy A God Damn Limousine

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I’ve got some advice to impart to all you bright-eyed, stupid, freshmen kids out there who are eagerly looking forward to the next few years of glorious, drunken debauchery you’re about to stumble and slur your way through. It’s fantastic. I remember when I was young, all my dumb decisions and unforgettable, totally forgotten nights still ahead of me. No, I’m old balls. I’ve been coasting gently through my fifth year victory lap here, taking one day at a time, but now I’m staring at the hard, icy face of graduation, which for me means no longer getting to stumble out of the house with a half-and-half of rum and everclear in a Sprite bottle.

This is the “well-after 3 a.m. calm after the rager” period of my college life: dark and quiet (except for soft dry-heaving of a dozen newly-minted DGs taking up every bathroom in the house). Forgive me if I get a little sentimental.

Anyway, I thought this was a good time for me to reflect about all the stuff I learned being a drunken, social degenerate for five years and try to pass off some of my overflowing wisdom to the rest of you. And if there was anything I could go back and tell myself, or any of the other sad tykes wandering the frozen streets with backpacks full of Burnetts that they paid some dude’s older brother $40 a handle for, it would be this:

First, don’t mix rum and everclear, moron. You’re going to screw it up, and in the morning you’ll lick Death’s cold taint. You have been warned.

Second, and most importantly, get some brothers together and buy a used limousine.

Seriously. There is nothing better to spend your money on in college besides food and booze. It’s the best investment you’ll ever make, and it starts paying out immediately. Mad dividends. Let me explain.

Imagine a party on wheels that you could fill with hot girls and take anywhere you wanted to. Except you don’t have to, because literally every single one of you has popped bottles in the back of one of these things at some point before. Your average limo has tinted windows, a full bar, a TV, and the kind of LED light show that makes EDM kids nut themselves. Plus, it’s basically cop proof, because what cop is going to pull over a limo?

“But hold on, man,” you say. “I mean, yeah that would be awesome. But that’s how the rich and powerful live. Sure, I pretend my dad has a private jet on frat-ire (frat-satire) websites, but in reality, he’s an accountant and I can barely scrape enough together to buy Little Caesars and a 40 of Busch on the same night. How am I going to afford a limo? And how am I going to pay somebody to drive it?”

Good questions. These were all things I had to grapple with on my search for the perfect fraternity pussy wagon. I had a lot of mis-starts, too. We tried a school bus, a boat, and a golf cart on the way, and obviously, none of them really panned out.

I eventually realized the only reason I didn’t have a limo was because I just assumed it was too expensive. Don’t do this. It turns out that you can live like the 1% for pretty cheap if you know how to do it. See, limos have basically no secondary market. Once they’re retired, that’s it. An $80,000 limo might sell in the low $5,000s after it’s sent out to the proverbial pasture. A Craigslist search will yield you dozens of limos in good shape in this range in your area. See, here’s one I just did:

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Almost all of these cars (especially if they have miles in the low 100,000s) have been professionally maintained with a gut-busting standard for their entire working lives, and, aside from a few burned out window regulators, are in amazing condition. It’s hard to find used cars anywhere that run as well as these beauties for a price like this. Now all you need to do is throw in a couple hundred bucks in for some HitLights and a new deck, maybe some subs, and you’re in the money.

But who’s going to drive it? You didn’t want to spend all that cash just to end up being a limo driver –there’s no greater lady-boner killer than finding out you’re a limo driver. Truth. Go watch “Stretch” on Netflix.

The answer to this one should be obvious: pledges. This is the ONLY time in your lives that most of you will ever have a small army of obedient, unquestioning, totally indentured servants at your beck and call. If you’ve ever had a pledge pick you up at a bar in the middle of the night, now picture him rolling up in a fucking limo. Then picture yourself taking every girl in the bar back to the house with you. You can do that. Your car can fit 12 people in it. Or just two. From experience, take two girls in the back of a limo, instant threesome. Every time.

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So now you’re probably like, “Well, what about the laws? Don’t you need a special license to drive it?”

Nope. For law enforcement and insurance purposes, retired limos are considered to be the unstretched version of their model. That means that not only can anyone drive it (and if you can tow a trailer, you’ll pick up a limo in 10 minutes) but you’re also going to get ridiculously cheap insurance (think insuring a 1998 Town Car).

Once you get one of these things up and running, the possibilities are endless. Maybe you’re a smaller fraternity looking to make a name for yourself — run Vegas-style pickups for your parties, and make the pledges drive people back and forth all night (this works especially well for off-campus houses). Maybe you’re top-tier and want to solidify your relationship with the hottest sororities. Nothing says I’m trying to function like sending the limo out to do random errands for girls like it’s no big deal. Maybe you’re just a few upperclassmen who want to live like kings for their last few semesters. There’s nothing more fun than taking your limo to McDonald’s late at night and screaming at drunk people from the sun roof.

Whatever you want to use it for, rolling around in a private limo is a huge fucking power move. And not enough of you people are doing it. You know how I know? My Facebook page ends in “/fratmousine.” If I could get a domain name like that on the first try, there’s obviously a shortage of frat limos out there.

So seize the fucking night. You’re never going to be this carefree and unburdened ever again. You might as well not spend it walking or driving around in a two-door Honda Civic. Christ.

5 years in College. 2 in Europe. He may have limited employable skills, but he can claim a long, illustrious career of avoiding arrest, drunk golf carting, limo ownership, and drinking wine from a bag.

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