G’day, mates! I’m Ozzy Dingleberry, and today we’re venturing into one the most outrageous and debauched habitats in the entire college ecosystem: the fraternity house.
As you’ll notice, I’m wearing a button-down with short pink trousers. It is important for me to blend in with the environment. The frat guy can smell even the slightest hint of non-conformity, and if that happens, things could get bloody ugly in there!
The fraternity man wears this getup as a means of attracting potential mates, subliminally reminding females of their father figures. Clever little buggers, aren’t they? Let’s see if we can take a closer look…
Here we are at the entrance into what is known as the “frat castle.” Notice how the females — or sloots — pass through without question. Spoke too soon! That large one was just sent packing. What’s this? It appears as though a non-fraternity male is attempting to enter the gathering. Oh-ho! The doorman took one look at his cargo shorts and it was toodle-oo. Off he goes, returning to the confines of his dormit’ry to write several self-reassuring Tumblr posts about how frat guys have to pay for their friends.
Phew! We made it inside. The interior of the habitat reeks of stale beer and vomit, but croikey, what a sight it is! I haven’t seen this much wet pussy since we filmed a documentary on the rare Turkish Swimming Cat!
And what do we have here? It appears as though this frat male is attempting to burst open a beverage with his skull to consume the contents within.
Oh! An unsuccessful try.
Let’s continue our journey into the – EE GAD!
Bloody oath! The boob luge! We have long heard tales of the act of nature, but never before has it been caught on film! Ladies and gentlemen, we are witnessing hist’ry! While the boob luge, also known as the jug chug, may seem like a wasteful and unnecessary means of hydration, it is actually a mutually beneficial arrangement. The male acquires the sustenance he needs to survive while the female reaps invaluable attention and misguided self worth.
As we move farther into the habitat, we see packs of frat males attempting to woo the prospective vagina through garish displays of physical prowess. Though hesitant at first, they seem to be persuaded to carry out the feats of bravery by a sort of battle cry from their peers: “You won’t.” Let’s examine…
Despite their best efforts, the bold stunts rarely capture the attention of the females. Nor does another common strength competition: the brawl.
This footage is a shining example of why the frat male rarely engages a foe in one-on-one combat, usually relying on a pack of mates to help remove an unwanted “geed” or “boner” from a gathering.
Let’s move into the underground chambers of the habitat, where a rite of passage is currently underway. Here we see several elder frat males teaching a young fratling the ways of the world.
Indeed, it truly does take village! While this fratling has a long way to go, if the elders continue to nurture and guide it, the spry youngster will eventually grow into a full-sized, overweight, and counterproductive member of the pack.
It is important for the fratling to grow up fast. If it doesn’t, it will promptly be exiled from the pack. And rightfully so. A single weak link could leave the entire group susceptible to an attack from the greatest foe of the frat male: the wall. Blimey! An aggressive wall is attacking a group of them now!
Threat neutralized! Notice how he stalked the wall, slowly approaching to maintain the element of surprise, before lunging arse first for the kill. A well fought victory indeed. His brothers, as well as his honor, should be safe for now.
As we make our way back upstairs, we encounter one of the most pure and beautiful moments in the frat world: the mating ritual.
Let’s hone in on the female for a moment. Notice the push-up bra. The choker necklace. The twinkle of insecurity behind the eyes. This lass is ripe for the picking – but there is one problem: a rotund female friend who refuses to leave her side. The guardian hen will watch over her slimmer companion, telling herself she’s protecting her from prying frat males, but in reality, she’s just super jell no one wants to hit that. It seems to be a lost cause for the – good lord! An elder male just sent a fratling to engage the guardian hen. Good sport! While the plump Sloot Caboose is occupied, the elder male can now swoop in for the kill uncontested.
He’s chatting her up now. It appears they share an 11 a.m. English Literature class. Oh-ho! And that Professor Hoover sounds like a real cunt. Notice how the frat male flexes his arms as he gestures. Things are going quite well. They are now moving to the mating floor for the second phase of the ritual.
On the mating floor, the females gyrate their lower fleshy extremities to the rhythm of loud static noises. But the males must proceed with caution. Simply going up behind a female and humping away is a sure-fire way to get maced. He must wait for her to present herself through eye contact or by “dropping it low.”
For others, however, the mating ritual can become too much to handle:
The successful frat male asks his partner if she would like to go upstairs to “check out his aquarium.” She obliges. Once in the privacy of the frat male’s nest, the pair disrobes and gets to work. From there, he mashes his soft penis against her vagina for two or three minutes before vomiting on her chest. As she runs out of the room in a fit of screaming, the frat male rolls onto his back for some well-deserved shuteye. Good show, lad!
Meanwhile, downstairs, the men who failed to find partners release their pent up aggression the only way they can: utter destruction…
There you have it. The often confusing, always beautiful world of the college fraternity male. It is time for me to leave now – one of them just asked “who I know here.” Until next time, I’m Ozzy Dingleberry..
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