Carlin Pledges Allegiance To The Senior Class

This week, I was bitch slapped –- twice. On Tuesday, my responsible housemate sent out an email reminding friends that it was the last day the seniors could use bursar…forever. I am scared of people-money, especially since I’m hardcore humanities and can thus expect to make said people-money never. This yielded a $200 stress splurge as I stocked up on Penn gear after four years of not purchasing any from the institution: a Not Penn State t-shirt, hats plural, a sweatshirt, and mesh gym shorts that make me look I borrow clothes from my nonexistent boyfriend. Seriously, the one hat I had, I jacked from my little sister who wore it at camp for like a day to brag about me before she remembered who the fuck I was. And it was too small.

The second bitch slap came from pledging. That kind of sounds appropriate, especially with this being Greek Week, but this was the obligatory I-Won’t-Haze-the-Cane-Wielders-Who-Are-Asking-For-It-Anyway pledge. I mean, isn’t that why we participate in Hey Day? Last year, after I ran into my father on the street completely blacked out (his secretary told me later. He wouldn’t speak to me because I apparently boomeranged and crashed his lunch meeting), I was lucid enough after grabbing a pretzel to insist on walking on the outside so that I could be doused in syrup, mustard, ketchup, and something blue that is still wedged in my converse, almost one year later. But clearly I signed the thing because it means I get to go to a party.

And just like that, I can’t stop thinking of new, outside the box ways to haze the drunk and confused. Here’s a few options:

1. Ask -– politely -– for the drunkest looking junior to bursar you some Houston sushi just one last time -– then lead them to the Computer Store and get yourself iPod and a new digital camera. Make sure to take a picture.
2. Lead an environmental protest regarding the amount of Styrofoam left in the grass from too much biting.
3. Find a drunk hot one. Tell him or her it’s your birthday. They are now required to make out with you. That's the birthday rule.
4. Pay off the DJ at the barbecue to loop Holla Back Girl for three hours.
5. Pregame harder than they did. Come walk time, you got food poisoning from your bursared sush.

Seniors, remember you have until this Friday to pledge. Don’t you wanna party?