I woke up this morning at 4:00 am and immediately ran a beer 10K – because beer miles are for pussies – followed by a two-hour lift session. Did I want to do that? Not in the slightest, but I couldn’t let my inner bitch win. I’m the hardest mother-fucking pledge there is, and no elephant walk, beer-chug, or downright violation of my human rights will take that away from me. You want me to run around a track with an oreo clenched between my buttcheeks? No problem. In fact, I’ll do it backward and still smoke the rest of my PC.
I despise laziness. Every day I see all my brothers half-assingly shotgun beers, and it makes me sick. I finish what I start. 12-pack of Natty’s? Gone. Handle of Titos? Demolished. 40 grams of nose candy? Babyfood. If you want to make something of yourself, you’ve got to go hard every day, and that’s exactly what I’m gonna do during my pledgeship. I hope my pledge master bitches me out. He won’t get to me. By the time I’m initiated, I’ll have stolen that motherfucker’s soul multiple times over.
Tonight the PC has to run a party at the house, and while everyone else is complaining and letting their inner-bitch take over, I’m going to use this as an opportunity to show everyone else how alpha I really am. I’m not talking about the females – only the men. I want every “male” at that party to piss themselves at night from how dominant my presence is. I’ll outdrink every single one of these wannabe-fratboys while doing one-handed pull-ups from a loose pipe on the ceiling. When the party needs more liquor, who’s gonna carry the kegs? I am. For now, I’ve got to clean every toilet in the house with my toothbrush, but I’ll be updating my progress towards complete pledge supremacy in the next entry. Stay hard.
