Wow, do I love when a big pastrami sandwich dribbles its sauces and gosses into my little lap. There were many parties on campus this Saturday night, and I trudged my little feet across three of their little wooden saucy floors.

Alpha Delta Phi held their Eastman on Campus event and I guess it’s not a party in the strictest sense. When I started walking towards their basement to obtain an alternative beverage, there was a woman splayed across a ping pong table emblazoned with ADP insignia. I left because it looked too sacrificial. My walkthrough was short lived, but I was wished a good night from one of the brothers at the door, so I give the experience a 5 out of 10.

Sigma Phi Epsilon’s party was colloquially called “Red Death,” and I don’t know what that means, but I can only imagine it refers to the luteal stage in the menstrual cycle. The inside had lots of red lights and a grand piano where people laid clothing, such as jackets, to rest. The atmosphere was thick but not thick enough to make me want to talk about unattainable beauty standards.

I liked this walkthrough because the distribution of people was concentrated but inoffensive, like a beautiful amoeba sac. 8 out of 10. Speaking of sacs, willful human ignorance is the reason the earth will plunge into environmental chaos within the next century. At least you can jack off to Tesla stock market value for the time being.

The next house I went to was Sigma Chi’s Hot Tub Time Machine and simply typing out that theme made me grow a beard that has mites in it. My friend Victoria nearly fell down because the ground was so sticky, and when she tried to walk, the floor held onto her soles. That’s just like how one time, when I was 13, I did a Twitter livestream to talk about One Direction and a man asked me to show my feet.

I was going to make a pun about the soles of feet and how that experience continues to weigh on my soul, but instead I feel like I will make a point about the sexualization of young people — especially young women — on the internet. Hehe! Menstrual cycle! By the way, climate change, also.

Walking down the stairs, I saw a girl being carried by two other friends because she was so drunk, and I hope she’s okay. I entered the dance dungeon, and it was so menacingly warm like our earth’s carbon-induced future that I immediately started sweating. It smelled like hot vom, hot bods, and alcohol, which are all the ingredients you need to summon forth a demon and the demon is called “fraternity culture.”

On the way out of the cursed lair, I heard someone repeating to themselves, “I’m gonna make good decisions.” I made a good decision and it was to love women so much that I actually hate women and now I can understand frat brothers more. One out of 10.

I hope when I die it’s because I fully submerged my body in a vat of lightly whipped yogurt. Made of the milk of soft sweet cows singing the song of environmental apocalypse. I went to Drama House on Saturday, too, and I told Victoria “I got fingered for the first time down that hall,” and she made a face like the face Waluigi always has.

Correction (4/12/19): An earlier version of this article said Sigma Phi Epsilon’s party was called “Red Death,” the name of similar past events by the fraternity. The event is officially called “The Pompeii Party,” however.



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