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My friends, I am here to warn you of an oncoming epidemic plaguing campuses across the nation. This infestation knows no bounds, and will soon wrap its clutches around each and every part of our immaculate campuses. What on earth could I be talking about you may ask? It isn’t swine flu, SARS, or the clap, I assure you. This outbreak is the massive influx of naive masses of freshmen students.
But fear not, for there is a silver lining to this dismal situation: the Class of 2015 females who will soon be embracing the benefits of a rambunctious Greek lifestyle.
While these freshmen girls may be untrained in the finer points of the collegiate experience (still think handjobs are an OK substitute for sex), in a few short weeks these girls will be corralled through each sorority house, and judged by hundred of ruthless sorority women. This beautiful process sorts the bovines from the potential slams, and while the sorority girls may despise it, we see it as a true blessing. Less work for us.
Come bid day, an entire pledge class full of these fledgling freshmen girls will be thrown face first (literally) into our pristine world of casual hookups, binge drinking, and stimulant abuse. However your school handles bid day, be it a full on “running of the bulls” stampede through campus, or a more subtle (and probably more respectful) saunter to their respective houses, the aftermath of bid day is the highlight.
Each sorority is encouraged to show off their “babies” to us, the esteemed and not at all disrespectful fraternity men eagerly waiting to meet our new Greek peers. What follows is one of the drunkest most interesting nights on campus by far.
These girls are by no means prepared for the massive quantities of alcohol we consume on a regular basis, and it shows. It is not uncommon to see these “precious babies” sickly submerging their faces in a toilet bowl, or unconscious in a parking lot by midnight. A select few girls persist, and I assure you my brothers, these are the one’s you want to pay attention to.
Just be cautious about the intoxication level of your potential slams through the night to prevent a potential vomit-on-dick catastrophe. There’s only one thing worse than blue balls, and that’s blue balls covered in puke.