Ummm...anyone got a soapbox?

Here at The University, students spend countless hours and sleepless nights pondering answers and seeking explanations to their burning questions and concerns about the school. Luckily, the administration has coordinated a heroic effort to help these students rest at ease: "The Coffeehouse with President." Once a quarter, the much hyped, campus-wide event draws about 17 people who toss out some of the most heated topics with which any university has ever dealt ("Why is Professor Johns getting three alumni magazines? That's ridiculous!"), all while those in attendance dine upon pseudo-handcrafted baked goods, store bought lemonade, and stale coffee. Yum. President does his best to answer these questions as long-windedly as possible and, if it's not in his area of expertise, he hands it off to another member of the administration who does an equally good job answering a Yes-or-No question in about 15 minutes. Apparently, I'm not the only one who knows that the longer you take to explain something, the more people will believe what you just said.

I went to my second one of these gatherings last night with Jeff, a fellow fraternity member. Jeff is known for his ability to find loop-holes in anything and everything. He's the kind of guy that stirs the pot not because he doesn't want the soup to scald, but because it can and should be stirred. He doesn't like soup though, so that analogy was poor. My bad. Anyway, Jeff and I always sit in amazement as the members of the administration dance around questions that actually mean something, might affect people's college lives, or have answers said people would not want to hear. Tonight, a random kid asked if President had anything to say about Greek life. Infamously in the Greek community at the University, his response always boils down to the phrase "I'm not anti-Greek." Speaking from experience, he's sure as hell isn't pro-Greek either. Sure enough, President went on a tangent about how the purpose of the Greek community has changed from when he was in school (The Greek Community is pointless), we are known as booze house (we give the campus a bad name), and, even so, he is not "anti-Greek (hmmm, never heard that before)."

One thing struck me though, and that was when he said, in response to claims that Greeks are treated unfairly especially when it comes to alcohol, "Greeks can't have a different standard." This set me on fire. However, by the time I was about to challenge his statement, the only people left were those balls deep in President and just think he's an ethical, cute old man who is an avid jogger. Aww.

I, however, see through his shit. If I did have a question tonight, it would have gone something like this:

"Yeah, I have a question. Dr. President, you mentioned earlier that Greeks 'can't have a different standard.' That is horse shit. You know we do, and, in fact, it is that we are held--unfairly--to a higher, nonsensical standard."

Here, he would somehow try to qualify what he said, and try to spin the standard to be a good thing, or something we should relish in or be proud of. That's when I chime back:

"But, you know that is completely false. You even said that the alcohol problem lies in the fact the underagers are served alcohol in our house, which coincidentally is an untrue statement. Even if it wasn't, you wouldn't know because that's not what you, your administration, and rules are about. They are all about living some impossible, perfectly moral fantasy you have built in your head, the only place that idea could ever exist. Every time we at Sigma Pi were "caught partying," a term I use loosely, it was for under three cases of beer (not hard alcohol). Even if we were serving underagers, which we were not, you, again, wouldn't know, because the uebermensch security officers your administration hired don't check I.D.'s; they just see some beer and assume there is a party.

You don't think that's true, that your officers and administrators don't use and exhibit the discretion and professionalism you try to act like they do in their jobs? That's funny, because last Halloween, one empty--yes, empty--beer can was found on our drinking fountain right next to our trash can. Furthermore, the can was claimed by an alumnus, who obviously does not go to the school. However, security wrote a report, and we were put on social probation, the same punishment one would receive for throwing a 50 case party with 200 people. Back to your idea that we 'can't be held to a different standard.' We are. We got caught with that beer can, and the entire fraternity which has existed for over 95 years was put in jeopardy. However, if that can was found in the dorms, nothing happens. Surely, the residents of the hall don't get punished, and definitely not the R.A.'s. If anyone does get punished, it is an individual. Fraternity house: everyone. Dorm: someone. If that isn't a double standard, I don't know what is."

Then I'd sit down. What his response would be, I do not know. It'd probably be long-winded and end with me being escorted off campus by police. Who knows, maybe someday I'll get some balls and ask.

I mean, I'm just sayin',
Pelton

Hi, my name is Jordan and I like to party.

Have you ever gone to a party and stopped trying to find a piece of tail or man meat for your 'late-night roll in the hay' as the kids say these days just to watch people--what they are wearing, whom they are with, and what they are doing? No? Well you should. If you can't, Acid helps. Regardless of whether you have or not, I think you can comprehend what I'm about to say and take me serious for a couple minutes.

In my time here at The University, I have experienced many things. As you would expect at any institution of higher learning, alcohol plays an important part in these activities and adventures, many times with surprising results. I rarely take time, however, to "stop and smell the roses," if I may, at these alcohol fueled events. But, this past weekend, I finally forced myself to take that step back and just 'people watch' for a couple hours. In the process I noticed some very...strange...occurences and recurrences that I thought I'd share with all of you. I arrived to this party around 10 o'clock with a can-do attitude and and 12-pack of PBR. I was set. At this time I was sporting my flat bill New-Era which covered my shaven head, both of which nicely accented my cheaply "blinged out" earlobes. Now that you've taken a moment to change panties, you are prepared to hear me out.

Since I wanted to start my night with a figurative bang (and end it with a literal one), I pounded a couple PBRs and immediately headed to the dance floor, or the 'orgy pit' as I so lovingly refer to it. On the real, have you ever watched a dance floor? Like, seriously, what....the...fuck..? It literally is a gang bang with more clothing and less discretion, which, coincidentally, is why I like it. Next time you're around one, just observe. You'll see a couple recurring characters pop up every time. First, sluts In case you aren't familiar with the slut, I will give you a quick indoctrination.

S.L.U.T.S. is an acronym crafted by French philosopher, sociologist, and theologian Claude Secsonie in an attempt to describe some unconventional "ladies of the night" to which he devoted years of study. He realized that these curious creatures could not simply be bought as other prostitutes but, in order to fornicate, one must take a slightly--a word I cannot emphasize enough--augmented approach. That meaning, they would not take cash directly, but would only take that cash in the form of meals, gifts, and expensive clothing the potential suitor wore. Basically, sluts. are whores that feel bad receiving a paycheck. Similarly to whores, however, sluts enjoy not-so-kosher methods of intercourse. I mean, you can't be surprised taking into consideration what sluts stands for: "She who Loves it Up The Shitter." Nope, not surprised at all. Secsonie also documented that when the slut was in the presence of Hollister polos, designer jeans, and overly applied cologne, something magical happened: she no longer needed reimbursement for sexual favors at all; she'd please her suitor just for saying the right things. "The right things?" you may ask. Secsonie found the right thing could involved a variety of topics, but the dialogue he found to be most effective involved treating the drunken slut as less than human, fitting if one were to study the flow of energy on the sexual food chain:
As you can see, the slut is firmly between the average human and quadrupedal animals. He deducted from empirical study of the sexual food chain that if one were to treat the slut as less than human, yet more human that the average farm animal, intercourse was almost a guarantee. Secsonie compared this to how one would treat to a well-trained dog: you obviously aren't going to rub it's nose in it own feces, but there's always a possibility, especially when it shits on your bed. In his later years, Secsonie looked back on his studies and concluded that sluts were integral to society in that they not only allowed the average male to have intercourse, but stimulated the economy by encouraging males to purchase copious amounts of hair gel, contraceptives, and overpriced clothing. Claude Secsonie died due to complications of Syphilis in 1934, age 38.

The next thing you'll notice at parties are the males who court these fellatio foundries. If getting laid was a competition, one can find a hierarchy in sexual triumphs depending on the approach the males take. From my experience and observation, less is always more, especially in attitude. The less respect you give, the more you'll get back. The less you care, the more you'll be cared about. The less you converse, the more you get talked to. The less attention you give the more you'll receive. It's all very simple. Say you were to approach the dance floor with a mission of poaching the almighty Poontang. As of late, I've employed some serious "less is more" ideology in every aspect of my game. My favorite opener goes something like this:

"Yo, [random friend]. You see this bitch? She fuckin' wants it."

One might assume it would end with a slap to the face and some blue balls, however, form my experience, it is the total opposite. Rather than exiting the scene, the slut becomes intrigued, most likely because she subconsciously assumes she isn't cared about. So, in an attempt to win over the male, she uses her natural assets to intrigue the male. Once she wins the approval, however, she will soon lose interest and move on, unless of course she was previously on a mission to have sex with the approacher, which is always a possibility, although quite rare. Thus, a male must continue not to show much interest and approval to the female. If the facade is kept, and the interactions are unpredictable, sexual contact is an astute possibility.

As a sum of the two aforementioned types of people always present at any party, one can deduct many things. The real idea is that no matter what the situation a party will break down as follows:

1.) Males, who want to have sex with all women.

2.) Females, who want to have sex with someone specific.

3.) Booze, which makes it all possible...and better.

Now, it is the male's goal to find the girl who would willing to partake, and if she is not avidly willing (a common occurrence), he will used tactics similar to the aforementioned. The females goal will involve find the one male to sexually interact with, and, if that turns to an impossibility, she will turn to other males.

What I'm saying is that it all boils down to sexual relations. It's a 50-50 split when it comes to parties. You may very well disagree with everything I just explained, but I challenge you to step back at the next party you're at and simply observe. You might just be surprised.

I mean, I'm just sayin',
Pelton