Metrosexual Chocolate

For those of you who don't know, I live in a fraternity house. In particular, Sigma Pi. Of course, some of the people who come over bill our house as "dirty," "filthy," or "reminiscent of the Saw movie series." Firstly, it's not as bad as it looks. Second, if it's so bad, why don't you clean it, you lazy, hating assholes. Third, go fuck yourself.

Anyway, if you've ever come over, you'll know that only the common areas can even be mistaken as dirty; individual rooms, however, are very clean and homey. When I moved in late this past summer, I did so hastily and did little to rearrange and personalize my new abode. Basically, I just moved my shit in on top of the last guy's room. Up until now, this hasn't bothered me much, and seemed to be a pretty decent set-up. Then, I realized that a "rebirth" of the Pelton was neccesary. You see, in the earlier part of this year, I had my fair share of run-ins with whores, sluts, and a variety of other creatures of collegiate myth. Granted, the times I had could be mistaken as good, but in a large sense, this guy got fucked over...hard, especially since I'm told that a large part of the freshman class currently thinks I'm a "walking STD."

Shitty.

So, I descided late last quarter it would be a solid idea to start anew, thus deciding to fix my image and try a go round on not dating complete whores for once. The transformation, or "tranny" as I call it, would most definitely not be easy, and most likely hilarious, so I figure I'd start writing about this process. The first part of this quarter, I did little to fix my reputation. On the same token, I did little to hurt it either. I figured I would lie low for a while and hope I was forgotten about. As it turns out, I'm much to sexy for that to even start to happen. It was time for something drastic, so I did what any person dissapointed with their reputation would do: become a stark metrosexual. Yes, that's right. I've become a gay man without a propensity for balls in my face. I got a new futon, painted my room a deep red color called "fleur de lie," got a coffee table, and hung black-and-white artwork at dominant eye level to make the room seem bigger.

The best part, however, is that my room no longer smells like promiscuity.

Making 2.0 the new 4.0,
Jordan Pelton