======= ======= ====== ====== ====== ===== ==== ====== ====== ===== ==== ======= ======= ====== ====== ====== ===== ==== ====== ====== ===== ====
Some people are brothers of Kappa Alpha Order. But many, many more people are NOT brothers of Kappa Alpha Order. This TFM rush preview is for those in the latter group.
Fraternity: Kappa Alpha Order.
Can you feel that? The tension in the office is absolutely electric. Just how far do I want to take this one? If I threw a rock in any direction here at TFM, I’d hit a KA squarely in the dome, most of whom are my direct superiors. Do I value my job or do I go scorched earth on this organization full of whitewashed Wrangler wearing, “Dixie” singing, jacked-up Ford Raptor driving try-hards? Fuck it, I’m too pot committed at this point.
I can see Dave in legal is visibly distraught with me tackling his beloved fraternity. He’s psychotically rocking back and forth sitting by the phone just waiting to field the inevitable call from “The Order’s” national headquarters. This could be it, guys. If you never hear from me again, it’s been a pleasure.
KA is 122 Chapters of mostly suburban middle-class white kids who traded in their American Eagle hoodies for some Carhartt Rugged Flex jackets after “connecting” with southern culture through country music at the end of their junior year of high school (Texas country, not that “radio-pop” bullshit), despite never firing a gun or baiting a hook. They purchase some Red Wing boots, watch YouTube videos on how to pack a passable lip, head to fraternity rush, and share completely fictional stories about spending summers growing up on their family’s nonexistent ranch herding cattle.
Those that finagle their way in through the cracks and become brothers of KA are then in charge of recruiting, and since they’re completely full of shit themselves, they can’t sort the authentic southerners from the fraudulent kids from the burbs, and it’s one giant clusterfuck cycle that exponentially dilutes the system.
Originally as Phi Kappa Chi on December 21, 1865 at Washington and Lee University by a former confederate soldier and his band of teenage brothers — one of whom was 15 years old. Frat. About half a year later, the Virginia Beta chapter of Phi Kappa Psi bitched about how eerily similar the name was to their organization, so a spineless James Ward Wood pulled a total puss move, caved in, and changed the name of the fraternity to KA on a whim. Didn’t people use to duel over shit like this? That would have been the move here, Jimmy. If you win, you keep the name, and if you lose, well, then it’s really none of your concern anymore.
Robert E. Lee, who was actually the president of then Washington College after the war, is considered the “Spiritual Founder” of the fraternity. Now if you’ve read up on the kind of gentleman Lee actually was, basing your values on his philosophies is actually something I can’t eviscerate. However, using the words “Spiritual Founder” is laughably horrendous. Using that type of terminology should strictly be for basic, gluten-free, yoga instructors who peddle Bath and Body Works products as a side project, not a 150-year-old secret society.
That would be like calling the president of your national headquarters something like Lord Commander of the Knights Watch or some lame ass Game of Thrones ripoff. What’s that? The head of KA is actually referred to as Knight Commander? I’ll just show myself the door.
Zach Brown, Brandt Snedeker, along with that bleached jizz mop atop of his pasty mug, and of course, the one and only Dillon Cheverere, aka Roger Dorn, aka my direct boss. Where do I even begin? Dealing with Dillon on a daily basis, I can confirm he is the worst human being to grace this planet. A complete sociopath. Just this morning, after looking into an office mirror where he no doubt just got done doing his best Buffalo Bill impression, he complained about how much of a curse it was to have such luscious, thick, can-hardly-put-a-comb-through locks to one of our fellow balding, self-conscious coworkers. Later on in the day, he brewed himself a cup of coffee and left the Keurig bone dry, uttering “Not my problem” as he shoulder bumped me on the way out of the break room.
Dillon is the type of guy who orders a burger at a world renowned steakhouse. When you ask him to grab a case of beer on the way to tailgate, he shows up with a bottle of white zinfandel. He’ll spend 45 minutes looking for his drive that was clearly hit in the woods, and then miraculously find it barely in the rough. “Tree must have kicked it out.” He prefers handjobs to blowjobs, Internet Explorer to Google Chrome, and the Big Bang Theory to Breaking Bad. The worst part is, he’s delusional enough to think this is all acceptable behavior. That everyone will just overlook such clear violations against society and not say anything about it. Well today, I’m finally stepping up to the plate.
From The Horse’s Mouth
When our house caught on fire last year one of my fraternity brothers claimed he tried to piss it out on the news. Needless to say our parents were proud to see what their money has been going towards. “When in doubt, piss it out.”
We like to set the bar high here at KA. Currently 40 of our chapters are suspended. Top that, other frats.
The fact of the matter is nobody really likes you when you love Robert E. Lee.
The Definitive Reason Why Your Fraternity Sucks:
Wanna be part of the next fraternity rush preview? It’s simple. Just email me at email@example.com and give me ample evidence of why your fraternity sucks: personal anecdotes, encounters with other chapters, etc. I’ll throw any good material into the post and give you proper credit. Next up: Sigma Chi
In case you missed the others: