Wow. My first weekend on campus and I’m already going to a frat party! Can’t believe that bro wearing letters I approached on the quad actually invited me. I hope I see him tonight. Maybe he’ll be my big brother after I get my inevitable bid.
Just picked up my Chubbies and Polo button-down from the dry cleaner. Washing machines are for GDIs. Once I finish polishing up my newest pair of Knockarounds, I’ll be ready to roll out.
I can’t wait until all the bros and sorostitutes see me rolling up this fresh. If I don’t get at least five blow jobs tonight, I’m considering it a failure.
A couple of guys from my floor came by my room to see if I wanted to come with them to a party down the street. They seemed all-around pretty cool, but then I noticed they were wearing jeans. Fucking JEANS! One was wearing a Polo T-shirt, but it didn’t even have a frocket. WTF? I can’t be seen rolling up to a party with guys like this. I told them to get lost, restraining my urge to call them out on their pussy creep fuck GDI attire.
I think those dudes left my room with a bad taste in their mouth. Pretty sure one called me a “fucking taint spanker” under his breath. Whatever. Once I’m in tight with my new frat brothers after tonight, he better watch his back.
Dammit, I wish that fucking geed cashier at the 7-Eleven hadn’t taken my fake. Couldn’t he tell that I’m basically already in a frat? Why can’t these fuckers just understand that drinking laws don’t apply to me? I guess this rubbing alcohol I stole from my roommate will get me buzzed before I leave.
I rolled out by myself. My Chubbies are clean pressed, and my shirt is strategically folded so the Polo horse has extra visibility.
I didn’t even check, but I can pretty much guarantee nobody on my floor is frat enough to roll with me. I bet none of them have even done a line of coke off a girl’s snatch. Fucking pussies.
I don’t get it. I typed in the address the dude gave me into my GPS app, but it’s just leading me into this really sketchy part of town. Why do some of these houses have their windows boarded up? Probably because these guys go so hard they just got done destroying the whole block last night. Damn, I can’t wait to rage with these kids.
I’m in front of the house, but it doesn’t have any letters on it. It doesn’t even look that big. And why are there two pit bulls sleeping out front? Oh, someone’s coming out. Maybe he can help clear things up.
Turns out I had the wrong address. I asked the guys who came out of that house if this was Cherry Street, but once they looked at me they just fell over themselves laughing. Through their fits of hysterics, one choked out that I was on the completely wrong side of town. They also asked if “Ringling Brothers” were in town after they looked at my clothes. What the fuck does that even mean?
Anyway, maybe the dude was just super hungover when he gave me that address and fucked it up. Getting so drunk that your brain forgets your own address? That’s frat.
I’m finally on Willow Street, where the frat apparently is. I heard a couple of guys talking about going there, so I followed them from a distance. Got to do what you got to do sometimes.
Just walked into the house. Took, like, five minutes for the door monitor to stop laughing so I could talk to him. He kept pointing at my neon green and dark blue Sperrys and just recycling into fits of laughter. He eventually told me I could come in, but not until he snapped, like, five pictures of me. Wait, that’s probably so he can display my face on the projector during pledge selection. I’m already halfway there!
Not sure why the guys in front of me got in without a fuss, though. I mean yeah, they had two handles of Jim Beam and, like, five girls with them, but what difference does that make? Don’t they know frat houses already have all the booze and girls you could already ever want? Why would you bring that shit from home? Losers.
This is so fucking awesome. I can’t believe I’m actually at a fucking frat party!
Why are all the girls so modestly dressed? Sure, those dresses are pretty sexy, but where are the models in bikinis pouring pitchers of beer all over themselves on the bar? How do these guys have the NERVE to let in anything under a nine? Whatever, I guess I’ll let it slide for now.
I’m getting a lot of looks from people here. Girls are obviously creaming themselves over this outfit. I knew the pink Chubbies and bright yellow button-down combo was a winner. I’m the most frat dude here.
Just talked to some of the bros upstairs. Told them I was a freshman and was interested in rushing. They were pretty cool. They told me all about the house and everything. One of them offered me a couple beers, but when he passed them over I saw they were Miller Lites. I asked if he had any Natty Light. He looked at me like my dad did that one time he caught me jerking off to Lacoste.com. Don’t these guys know that Miller is geed juice? Like, what kind of real frat bro doesn’t buy Natty? It’s like I already know more than these guys.
The party is popping. Just got down to the main floor, and hella people are grinding. This is sick. Time to spit some uber frat game. Damn, who’s that over there?
That approach didn’t go so well. Apparently asking a girl if she wants you to tenderize her tonsils with your gag mallet isn’t good game. Whatever.
WOOO. First beer bong of college. I am a king. I am a fucking LEGEND. Sure, the dude who gave it to me chewed me out for spilling most of it, but whatever. Everyone knows beer doesn’t smell in carpet.
Man, this girl I’m talking to seems pretty into me. She actually laughed at my tonsil hockey opening line. One more drink and I’ll be going Mayweather on her uterus with my frat hog. Man, I love college.
What the FUCK. This dude came out of nowhere, took this girl by the hand, and just brought her into his room. I tried to follow them in, but he just turned around and gave me this grin before slamming the door in my face. YOU HEAR ME, BITCH! I BET MY LEFT HAND GIVES BETTER BLOW JOBS THAN YOU! Whatever, sorostitute is totally missing out.
Time for some beer pong.
I’m killing this game. My opponents haven’t even made a shot yet! They are just laughing harder and harder after each shot I take. They’re obviously intimidated by my psych-out of yelling “Frat!” every time I toss the ball. Why do they keep pointing at my shorts?
OH YEAH! I know for sure I’m in this house now. Just talked with the recruitment chair and I have a really good feeling about it. I mean, he kept asking me these questions like where I went to high school and what sports I played and shit. Why the fuck does that matter? I’m shocked he wasn’t immediately impressed when I told him how long my best keg stand record was. I thought for sure he’d just hand me my bid card right then and there. He’s probably one of those “reformed” brothers. I bet he’s against hazing. Fucking pussy.
This is nothing like the movies I saw. People aren’t even throwing kegs off the roof. Where the fuck is the tit-judging contest? These guys obviously don’t know how to rage properly.
I obviously give the least amount of fucks of everyone here. You couldn’t see my fucks with an electron microscope.
Shit, I’m drunk. Piss break.
Fuck these toilets. Pissing in toilets is NF.
Well, I just got thrown out of the house. Apparently pissing in the shower with your hands behind your head is a good way to piss a couple people off. Whatever. I just asserted some frat dominance all over that house and its shower. Deep down, I know they respect that shit.
Can’t wait for rush week!.