Some people are good sports, some are bad sports. Some are old sports, some are new sports, like the game Sports Party for Nintendo Switch. Some things are balloons. This is all about balloons. I will also talk about “How You Remind Me” by Nickelback.
I don’t know the themes of any of the parties that happened on Saturday night. I think all of the themes were “sweat bottle,” but that’s besides the point. Scott, Victoria, Ash, and I first went to Sigma Phi Epsilon.
The brothers at Sig Ep were very welcoming to my balloon, although they inquired about keeping the balloon and I said, “No.”
The inside of Sig Ep was clean and quaintly furnished. It was fairly empty, but those that were there were energized and excited about my balloon. I didn’t mind that it was empty because it gave my balloon some space to breathe, so that was nice.
Then, we moved our merry crew to Psi Upsilon, which I have no choice but to refer to as “Psi Poopsilon” from here on out because it’s too easy. At first, the highlighter-yellow SWARM monitor boys at door gave me and my balloon absolutely no issue.
I was like, you know what? Great.
The inside of Psi Poopsilon was pretty packed, and it looked like the party was pretty fucking sick, bro.
My balloon was slapped a couple of times, although I didn’t mind because it seemed to be only “friendly slaps”, like how a drunken, hypermasculine person might describe sexual harassment.
Our time in Psi Poopsilon was limited, as a Psi Poopsilon brother ended up informing us, The balloon has to go,” and asked, “Who do you know here?
Unfortunately, I only knew my friends and the balloon at the time, so we had to leave.
Then was Sigma Chi, where I received some minor balloon pushback, but nothing crazy. Everyone changed their minds to accept the balloon, if only for a night.
Ex-Campus Times staff Scott from Sig Chi was there and he was very supportive to both me and my balloon. My balloon enjoyed the refreshing air of the first floor, and I was excited that Scott had let me drape my peasant body over the Sig Chi pool table.
As I walked around the frat quad with my friends, I noticed that some were completely transfixed by my balloon. My balloon mesmerized them, holding their gaze across the great green lawn, urging them to boop and bop its bloated body. However, nowhere was my balloon more polarizing than at Theta Chi, where we (the balloon and I) got into a minor disagreement with Ahmed at the door.
Ahmed said the balloon could not come in, citing risk and privacy. I assured everyone reading that my balloon would never violate someone’s privacy, but I think we all know that balloons are never afraid to take a risk.
Jack at the door said, “Ahmed, it’s a fucking balloon,” and eventually we were let in.
My balloon was a little ruffled from the heat of the situation, but enjoyed the warm light of the Theta Chi main room. The party had just started, so it was, again, relatively empty, which allowed my balloon to do what it needed to do.
It seems like it’s generally agreed upon that Nickelback is one of the worst bands of all time, but I often wonder why.
Are they any worse than any other bad band?
Why do we assume that The Chainsmokers have one big sausage cock that they share between themselves and that Chad Kroger from Nickeback has a tiny ramen penis?
I really like the song “How You Remind Me.” The chorus has a nice energy to it.