It’ll begin as it normally does. You, an intimately destitute, hormone-ridden Wildkitten are in your very first frat celebration. You’re crammed in the staircase of a grimy off campus household somehow connected to some fraternity you, for reasons uknown, are entirely struggling to pronounce the name of. You stay beside your roommate, a scrando in your PA team, and therefore guy who Facebook messaged you 8 weeks before college began. It’s reasonably uncomfortable, in addition to ambiguous, watered-down fluid when you look at the glass the inebriated bartender handed you is not doing adequate to distract you against the actual fact so it’s like 200 levels and strangers are bumping into you and the laundry when you look at the sink are covered with week-old lasagna or puke or both. Continue reading →