Fratocalypse Now: Guide to the Eternal Hangover

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Apparently a bunch of lunatics think Saturday is Judgment Day, and the world will begin to self-destruct. They believe that May 21, 2011 is exactly 7,000 years after Noah’s flood (based on a bunch of randomly calculated numbers from the Bible), and that this signifies the beginning of the end of times. Pretty fucking unlikely. The same moron predicting this has already played his apocalypse card, saying the world would end in 1994. Nonetheless, I will use this as an excuse to rage like I’m going down in flames and there is no physical or moral hangover.

Whether or not you’ve got your relationship with our maker on-lock, it’s time to cancel everything you had planned for tonight and use this as an excuse to get away with a lot of weird shit you’d normally be hesitant to do. First thing first: abruptly dump your significant other. You don’t want to be standing there holding hands with your girlfriend while you’re watching the world crumble. That’s fucking gay (sorry Phoenix Suns). You want to be on a money mattress, balls deep raw-dogging a rando, lighting stacks of hundred dollar bills on fire with a gold-plated blowtorch while REM’s “It’s the End of the World As We Know It” and DMB’s “When The World Ends” play alternating on repeat. Just call your sorostitute on Sunday and explain: “Sorry I’m not sorry it was supposed to be doomsday.” Buy her a new monogrammed Tervis Tumbler or some shit. She’ll be back.

The odds of the rapture occurring tonight are just as likely as an actual zombie apocalypse. Prepare appropriately by pre-gaming on the veranda of the fratcastle with your over/under and a case of cheap beer. Come to think of it, there will probably be hoards of nerds playing “Humans and Zombies” tonight, frolicking around in loser unison. In your shitfaced state, try your best to differentiate between the living dead and the geeds, but deal with both appropriately.

I’m not sure exactly what time this alleged catastrophe is supposed to commence, but I’m just gonna assume Y2K rules apply and say midnight is somehow involved. Midnight will be a lot cooler if we’re high-speed cruising through our respective Greek Rows, taking key bumps, and unloading high-powered firearms into the night sky. After all, people are saying worldwide earthquakes will be involved, and I want to make sure I die of a drug-induced heart attack before I hit the center of the earth and melt in lava. On that note, let’s play it safe and make this a black tie event. When I sprint past the Four Horseman they’re gonna think, “Holy shit that guy was FaF.” I’ll be laughing at GDIs rocking Ed Hardy as they float past me headed the opposite direction. St. Peter is going to high five me when I stumble through the gates. Hopefully I’ll see you fucks there.

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