======= ======= ====== ====== ====== ===== ==== ====== ====== ===== ==== ======= ======= ====== ====== ====== ===== ==== ====== ====== ===== ====
If there’s one thing I shouldn’t have to explain to any of you it’s the entrepreneurial spirit that made America great. Some guy has a good idea and five generations later his kin is railing coke off a glass table in the living room of a Vegas suite during spring break. It’s a story so heartwarming it makes Radio look like The Longest Yard. So listen up, because this is going to be the best advice you’ve gotten since one of your brothers drunkenly slurred out “buy low, sell high” moments after annihilating that pitcher of gin and tonic he jokingly ordered at the end of the night.
Two words, motherfuckers: ostrich farm. Logistically, this thing is a grand slam. Let me explain. There are two things in this world that bring me great joy. First: exploiting pledges under the guise of character building. Second: using startup capital that isn’t mine to finance a couple years of highly necessary drinking. Look, we all know that drinking is going to happen, I get it, but I’m offering you an outside shot to be the Jordan Belfort of your frat castle. Quaaludes may be a thing of the past but blowing money just because you can sure as hell isn’t.
If you’re serious about this ostrich farm, and by now you should be, the first thing you’re going to need to do is bring the pledges on board. Obviously, this ostrich farm is going to require a lot of work, and if you’re like me, you’re too busy grooming your short game to seriously commit to the yeoman lifestyle that accompanies raising a sizable harem of ostriches. The pledges, on the other hand, don’t have shit to do. Every week they bore you with some stupid story about how their “totally chill” RA let eight of them split a fifth of Monarch in a dorm. I’d much rather have the pledges tell me about how it “totally blew” to pick eggs out of an ostrich nest without getting mauled by one of the closest remaining relatives to the dinosaur.
On top of that, the money for this whole operation is already sitting under most of your noses. There’s this little thing called “dry social funds” that I’ve heard a lot about but have never actually seen in real life. Why don’t you stop giving decoration money to sororities for a themed function that’s going to be ignored and instead make that money work for you in the form of ostriches? There are two outcomes here: Either your ostrich farm makes it off the ground and the fraternity never has to worry about stupid shit like dues and social fees again, or, and here’s the rub, the ostrich farm works as the perfect excuse to launder money out of the dry social fund and back into more important things like Keystone and Jager.
No matter how you slice it, this ostrich farm can’t go wrong. You may not finance the coke habits of your offspring for the next 300 years, but at least you’ll have an excuse to call yourself the Colonel..
Image via Shutterstock