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The Last Leg

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It seems like only yesterday we were cracking beers back home on our sunlit porches as we scanned our contacts list for some casual Christmas Break raw dogging. After a few short months filled with ever-rising bar tabs, escalating drunken dares, and subsequent barely avoided arrests, we now find ourselves in April, the final leg of the spring circuit.

Just as starting off your school year on an extremely inebriated note is of utmost importance, so is going out with both a literal and figurative bang. Finals week is fast approaching and chances are that with your nighttime habits you’re going to be slacking off. It’s time to sack up or back up. My suggestion is to stock up on Adderall now, Doomsday Preppers style, before every brother in your house forms a short-term addiction in the weeks to come. Take whatever amount you think you need, and then double it. Twice. Don’t underestimate the value of these little pink brain-steroids.

While studying is an unfortunate but vastly important activity in the final weeks of your school year, raging your ass off in the home stretch is of equal importance. Every night that you don’t have to give a shit about school, you should be giving a shit about how many beers it takes you to blow a 0.38 on the breathalyzer your friend randomly purchased. Your second home should be a bar. If a bartender there ever has to ask you “What’s the name on the tab?” you’re doing it wrong.

For many of us this May means a temporary summer separation from our beloved college campuses. It means a lot of relaxing, some semi awkward “back home” parties, and loathing the fact that you can’t get a pledge ride. These waning weeks are your last chance to inhale the sweet aroma of fraternity life, unscrew the lid on its luminous bottle, and ruthlessly chug down the sweet nectar of collegiate bliss. Get your ass to every date function. Meet girls by the dozens. Do a body shot off some smokeshow, mistake prone DG because it’s her 21st birthday. Now is the time to capitalize, my friends.

For those of us in the dreaded final weeks of senior year, this May means a true end. An end to the drunken midday tailgate life. Gone is the random Tuesday bar crawl. Sadly lost is the optoin of drinking at noon on a Friday. Real life is fast approaching, and since your grades don’t mean shit at this point anyways, you should be raging your tits off the absolute hardest. Every graduating senior in the country has a personal obligation to leave their permanent mark on both their chapter and their campus. Shoot off some fireworks. Steal a composite. Become known as “that drunk guy who’s always at midtown.” Do what you have to do, because let’s be honest, the real world can’t fucking touch this glorious, blurry, dream of debauchery we call fraternity life.

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StuffFratPeopleLike (@StuffFratsLike) is a writer for Total Frat Move, and due to his crippling OCD and functional alcoholism he can only understand and write text when presented in a numbered list format. So you're all jerks for calling him out on it. He is a self described Huguenot, and commands a secret sexual fetish for angry internet comments.

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