Welcome to the Jungle. “The Jungle Book,” but the 2016 live action remake version of the movie. “The Jungle” by Upton Sinclair. “Uptown Funk” by Bruno Mars. These are words that I am saying.

Some other words are Sigma Chi, which just had its big ol’ juicy Jungle Party on Saturday. And boy, did I go. Here’s a play-by-play if you weren’t able to.

I entered the frat house with my two friends, Jackie and James. Their names start with J and so does the word “jungle.” The power of the Jungle Party had taken them from the moment they left the womb.

We entered from the back door because we’re socially liberal. Anal sex joke. Hey, anal sex. How do you feel about that? Leave a comment below.

I wonder, does Sigma Chi have a lot of anal sex? Because of the repressed homoerotic tendencies that have been found to underscore many practices in fraternity culture. But maybe not. I’d have to look into it more.

Anyway, we went in right through that tight back door. The floor was sticky with spilled alcohol and the sludge of toxic masculinity. Up the stairs we went to a small room with a bar. There were a bunch of meaty shirtless men dancing with girls that were noticeably less meaty. Upton Sinclair wrote “The Jungle” about the meatpacking industry. Sigma Chi sure knows how to pack meat into their house.

We left the small meat room and went to the downstairs area, where the main party was happening. Hm, the most action happening downstairs? Must be a metaphor.

The room was fertile with the scent of emotional unavailability. It was dark and pulsing with bass and colored lights. Do you know what else was pulsing? My heart because I am not dead yet, and was not dead at the time of Jungle Party.

Repressed sexuality is bad. Luckily, I saw lots of liberated straight sexualities at the Jungle Party. A couple of the meat men got grinded on a bunch of times, so that was really cool for them.

Our friend Vennela happened to be at Jungle Party, and I screamed excitedly because I’m half-white. We went to the corner of the room and danced on those elevated stair things things that are at least 35-percent phallic. It was really fun, even though the meat man dancing beside me was wearing an animal costume that was anatomically inaccurate.

Jackie had to go back to her room to do homework, so we were ready to bring our Jungle Party experience to a close. We went up the stairs to leave. The staircase was hard to navigate, as it was thick and swollen with people coming down into the main party. Speaking of coming, 75 percent of women have trouble climaxing from vaginal intercourse alone. Something to think about.

We headed out through the main door, and I smiled to myself as we passed the glistening white men in their possibly appropriative animal headdresses. What a great, succulent, tender Jungle Party.

Tagged: Greek Life

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