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The Shitty Guy

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If the DUI I got during rush (after swearing I was good to drive) didn’t give it away, I’m not sure what else could have. You have no one to blame but yourself. I’m fully aware that every time I enter a room 8 people immediately leave and the 2 remaining just want to bum addy off me. That brown trail of Labrador shit leading to the frat house kitchen? Oops. Sometimes Stonewall wipes his ass on the carpet. I think it’s adorable, and the pledges will clean it up anyway. You may know me as the Shit-man, but some call me Shitty, and others just call me “Pussy Repellent.” I’m a walking cock block who doesn’t even seek to benefit from your misfortune. I’ll “accidentally” tell your slam about the time you literally, and not figuratively, peed a butt. In my defense, it was a great story. You may suspend me, but you’ll never kick me out of this fucking chapter. I’m an incurable disease that you could’ve eradicated on bid night, but you blew it.

So what if I haven’t paid dues in over a year? Who else do you know that has an unlimited supply of Xanax and Addy? If you can look past the impending disaster that follows me around, I’m actually not a bad dude. Double-parking at the frat house? Not that bad. Ripping a disproportionate amount of your blow? You didn’t need to do anymore anyway. Lighten up. If this chapter’s pledge-ship wasn’t a fucking cakewalk now then maybe I wouldn’t have to feed pledges turd sandwiches. It’s a brotherhood builder. Mid-song IPod change? That was me. Kicking in your door while you’re about to get laid? Guilty. Refusing to wear a condom despite having permanent STDs? Hey, I’m not proud, but condoms are super gay. To be honest, I don’t like where this chapter is headed. 3 years ago, if I totaled a pledge’s car and told him to “figure it out” I would’ve received a fucking award. And I know for a fact that the last President of this chapter would not have fined me for calling the alumni advisor “bona fide cocksucker.” Something’s wrong in the country when gays can openly serve in the military, but I’m not allowed to openly discuss drugs with rushees. Do I even want to party with a bunch of guys that take exception to me bringing around a moderately sketchy friend from high school? And is it that big of a deal that I make pledges leave study hall to pick me up Chicken Express? Personally, I’m tired of being blamed for everything. That .2 GPA I pulled last semester wasn’t the only reason we didn’t make grades. Who gives a fuck about grades anyway?

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