[Foreword: This blog is for all the
little undergrad girls who want to say this shit, but can’t.]
Ok so it’s Spring again, a frat boy’s fav time of the year. Why? Well because girls start
dueling til the death sluttin’ it up hoping to get invited to fraternity formals. To be 100% honest, in college I was too afraid of being one of those girls. I would just say to my guy friends, Take who you think will be the most fun. Even though the obvious answer was me (duh), some guys didn’t get the hint.
My good friend Nina eloquently said, I’d rather be a nun at home, than a slut in Vegas. Well put, Nina, well put. But I don’t wanna be a slut or nun. I just want to be in Vegas.
Downside to being a graduate: I no longer get to soberly greet the fraternity’s fresh meat in class or the library.
Upside: I can now be completely shameless in my attempts to get invited to their formals.
I am The Ultimate Dream Date:
- Buy one, get one free. If you’re man enough, you can tag-team me with my hot friend Macy. The 3 of us could spoon, have pillow fights, the works.
- Any other date you’re considering is uglier than I am. And if not, then she’s prob a stuck-up bitch who’s gonna ditch you. Every year I see it happen. But I have subzero self-esteem, so you can be a crappy/unattractive date and I’ll still keep a smile on my face. This brings me to my third point:
- You can be a crappy date, and I’ll still keep a smile on my face. I won’t even trash-talk you to all the bulimics & cokeheads who spend the entire formal in the girls’ bathroom.
- I don’t do drugs, but it’s cool with me if you do. If you get a nose bleed, you can wipe it on my sleeve; I’ll be wearing a black dress anyway.
- I always wear black. It’s my signature color, plus it covers up my inevitable sweat stains from dancing.
- When I drink, I open tabs. Win-win for everyone.
- I won’t hook-up with someone else. So I may (probably) have hooked up with half your pledge class. That’s in the past, this weekend I only have eyes for you. Next weekend, however, no guarantees.
- I graduated, so no awkward post-formal, post-hookup run-ins during finals week. You can see me as little/often as you want.
- Lastly, my reputation speaks for itself. But don’t take my word for it, go find one of my past dates. They’ll tell you
Every year I hear, My date was terrible. I should have taken you, Ella. Coulda, woulda, shoulda. Cry me a river. Alls I can say is: this year, you’ve been warned.
Oh and if I’m already taken, I’ll send you a list of suitable alternatives. Ciao!