David Goggins’ Pledge Diary: Hell Week

Photo Credit: The Bald Brothers

I don’t think these wannabe frat tools understand what hell really is. While the rest of my pledge class cries themselves to sleep at night in anticipation of this final week, I haven’t slept in 72 hours just to make this week even harder. I didn’t pledge ΣEX for some soft-ass hazing, so I’ll take matters into my own hands to make hell week the most grueling week of my entire life. I’ll be making entries every day so I can remember my final push toward pledge supremacy for decades to come. 

Monday, 3:17 am

The first night sleeping at the house this week has been filled with constant interruptions. As my pledge class tries to get any sort of sleep on the basement floor, the brothers have been throwing expired food down at us all and blaring “Happy” by Pharrell on the biggest speaker we own. For me, however, I just finished a four-hour plank and am about to start a wall sit until I have to leave for my 8:00 am. Why waste time sleeping when you could be getting hard?

Tuesday, 1:45 am

Although I expected a majority of the challenges this week to be physical, I can’t say I was prepared for sandwich night. But, I wouldn’t let my inner bitch free (unlike the rest of my pledge class), devouring an entire pound of salami and provolone cheese, three whole onions, and a jar of clam-o-naise. Some kids took the easy way out, choosing the loaf of bread or head of lettuce, but I wasn’t going to stop eating the sandwich ingredients until my digestive system completely shut down. 

Wednesday, 5:03 am

Tonight was long as grueling. Half of my pledge class is either crying or having a psychotic break after spending seven hours locked in the house showers. The water was freezing and the Tabasco sauce left a couple of kids blind, but I embraced that fucked up combination of ice and fire like I wish my father would’ve embraced me as a child. I’m a better man because of shower night, but I’ll never be the same (I have trench foot). 

Thursday, 11:12 am

Last night got cut a little short as some of my pledge class was sent to the hospital. I guess that’s what happens when you eat a couch. Although my stomach is filled with leather and staples, there was no chance that I would pussy out and ask for medical assistance. It’s honestly depressing how soft our generation has become, so I’m taking it upon myself to carry the boats when no one else will. 

Friday,  1:37 am

After chugging what seemed to be a combination of vodka, vomit, and vegetable juice, I was blindfolded and thrown into a closet with the rest of my pledge class. Inside with us was a cartel-sized package of nose candy, which needed to be finished before we were allowed to exit the closet. Rather than wait for each of my pledge brothers to pass it around and take half bumps, I devoured the entire package Cocaine Bear style and broke head first through the closet door. As soon as the door swung open, the entire Sigma Epsilon Chi fraternity was waiting on the other side, champagne bottles at the ready. 

This so-called “hell week” was nothing compared to my time with the SEALs. I honestly found it somewhat pleasurable. Now that I’m done, it’s time for some change around ΣEX. When I’m the new pledge master, my pledges will know real hell as I shape them into the toughest mother fuckers Greek life has ever seen. But, for the time being, I’ve got some blacking out to do. Stay hard.

Written by the godfather

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