Wednesday, November 13, 2013

The Champ Heads to College Part 1

Most experts see college as a rite of passage for young people and a necessary step on their path to adulthood.  It is also a place where one can experience living away from their parents for the first time, and all of the amazing benefits that go along with the new found freedom.  College in its most basic sense is an institution where you can obtain a higher level of education, and if you accumulate enough credit hours of coursework you will earn a degree in your chosen field of study.  This degree is basically a receipt saying you paid thousands of dollars to bullshit your way through class so you can go out all night and drink, experiment with drugs, fuck the shit out of each other, and one day get a good job.  Being a champion, you can probably imagine how my college career went, and the ironic thing is I wouldn’t have gone back to school if my parents didn’t make me.  So I would like to thank my Mom and Dad, because without their influence and support, half of the stories that will make up this blog would not exist.  They are true Champions indeed.

With that being said, the latter months of 2007 were pretty wild for me.  By day I was a mild mannered short order cook at a golf course restaurant, but when the sun went down I was a raving lunatic, hell bent on winning championships.  When it got to the point where I had five or six consecutive weekends that were worthy of a Champions Corner blog post, I knew it was time for a change of scenery.  My parents also were getting nervous, because every week there was a new arrest, legal fine, or self-inflicted injury that I had to deal with.  So after a serious discussion about my future, we decided that I should enroll at the State University of New York at Oneonta.

After filing the necessary paperwork and applications, I was accepted by the admissions department and was eligible to start classes in the Spring.  A few months later, I made the trip out to Oneonta and settled into my new dorm room, anxious to start classes and get a feel for the local entertainment.  And for those of you who don’t know, by entertainment I mean beer, blunts, bitches, boobs, bangers, and butt fucking. So my first night there, I went out with my roommates to grab some drinks and hopefully get my dick wet.  What actually happened was the complete opposite of my expectations.  We sat in some losers apartment all night, drank warm beer with no vaginas in sight, and ended up ordering an alarming amount of disgusting calzones from a shithole restaurant aptly named Zonies.  Besides being incredibly disappointed about waking up alone the next day, the combination of cheap beer and gross food made my morning bathroom trip something like this:

After another uneventful night and disgusting morning, I started to feel as if going back to school was a bad decision.  However, being a Champion, I feel that you cannot judge a man by how he falls, but how he stands back up.  So with nothing to lose, I decided to hit up this guy from my hometown Pete, founder of the U Is Clothing Company, because he also went to Oneonta and I heard he was in a fraternity.  Later that day, Pete responded to my message and told me to come down to a party his frat was throwing that night.  He said it was the first day of Rush week, and there would be plenty of alcohol and girls.  I still had my doubts, but I decided I would give it a shot, because at this point I was going through the worst case of Championship withdrawal I’d ever had.  I was shaking so bad that when I held my dick to piss it looked like someone was partially covering a garden hose with their thumb.  It was rough. 
Now that I had plans, my classes that day seemed like they would never end.  When I was finally done, I shaved, showered, and put on a Champions uniform.  I was looking extra fresh and my confidence was at an all time high.  I called a cab and headed straight to the address Pete gave me with high hopes and an eagerness that I can’t describe in words.  When we pulled up, Pete was waiting for me, and as we ascended the steps that led to the party apartment, he turned to me as he kicked the door open and said:
“Welcome to Greek Life.”
Now I’m not exactly sure, but I firmly believe that at that precise moment, Pete was actually St. Peter and he was ushering me through the Pearly Gates of Champion’s Heaven.  It was unbelievable.  Everyone was dancing in a black-light lit room with barely any room to move.  There were a thousand shots lined up on a countertop that overlooked three kegs of beer, and there was a bucket with some type of rape serum in it.  I later found out it was actually punch, but at the time I was too overjoyed to care.  The events that transpired that night changed my life forever.  I was pounding beers, taking shots, and groping sluts while the liquor was flowing freely and the jiff was easily accessible at every turn.  I immediately forgot about the kids I chilled with the first two nights, because I was raging like a champ and their idea of a party was probably more like this:

This insanity went on for ten more days, and let me assure you, it was fuckin’ crazy every night.  There were lingerie parties, disgusting jiff adventures, a night when strippers got naked for us, and there was even a huge brawl with another fraternity.  It might have been the best two weeks of my life.  When it was all over, the brothers of the frat told me that I had to make a decision – I could accept their bid and pledge so I could continue my quest for the Ultimate Championship Trophy, or I could decline and go back to hanging out with a bunch of dudes drinking room temperature beer and having the green apple splatters every morning.  What an easy decision.  A decision that changed my life, and let me tell you, I was not even close to being prepared for the journey I was about to embark on…….      

Wednesday, August 14, 2013

The Champ Heads to College Part 2

*You should read Part 1 before you read this, if you haven't done so already*

After two weeks of non-stop partying, I accepted my bid to pledge with the hope that I would eventually become a brother of the fraternity.  In all honesty, I had no idea what to expect, and looking back now, I realize that I was in no way prepared for what pledging actually was.  I was basically someone else’s bitch for however many days it took me to complete all of the traditions, and in time learn the ideals that are the foundation of the fraternity.  It was probably the hardest thing I ever did in my life, but I knew in the end it would all be worth it.  It was also the best time of my life that I would never want to do again.  In between the slave-like treatment I endured, I was getting kidnapped by sororities whose only purpose was to get me as drunk as possible and take advantage of me.  At parties, I spent half of my time serving the fraternity beer and the other half trying not to get a boner after drunken sluts were ruthlessly grinding their butts on my dick while I stood against the wall.    

The traditions themselves were absolutely terrible.  I’m not going to get into specifics, because frankly it’s none of your fuckin’ business.  And some nights when I didn’t have traditions were just as bad, because my fraternity was no joke, whereas the less-hard frats probably chewed out their pledges more like this:

When the time for my induction into brotherhood was nearing, it was almost like I was brainwashed to not give a fuck.  Good thing I was already a Champion with this sentiment firmly embedded in my psyche, because most people would probably start to breakdown.  I was cold, wet, hungry, and sore by the time the sun rose on my last night of pledging, and you better believe that when they gave me my shirt with the fraternity letters emblazoned upon it, I earned it.  I literally screamed like a madman as I was being congratulated by the brothers.  Then, the party started, and I blacked out pretty quickly because during my time pledging I didn’t drink that much and I lost some weight.  I don’t remember if it was the first night I was in or the second night, but I finally got pussy from a girl who looked like a hot version of Oprah, which is still an ugly version of a normal girl.  I did not give a fuck though, because I was overjoyed to be a free man and back on the road to winning championships.

My first few weeks as a brother, I was an absolute savage.  On the weekends I brought championship-winning to a new level.  I would pregame with a bottle then drink beer and punch at the parties, and after hitting up the bars I would either try to get pussy or do some J with my good friends until the sun started to peek over the horizon.  On weekdays, I would still go out and get hammered, and sometimes during the day I was that kid sitting in the back of class with disheveled hair and red eyes, still awake from the night before with my jaw swinging to a rudimentary beat looping in my delirious mind.  Over time, I learned that when I would “party” myself into that physical and mental state, it was better to just skip class that day.  It was too hard for me to sit in class with other students, and when I tried to it normally ended up being like this:

Unfortunately, pledging took up most of my first semester at school, and since I transferred in the spring, I only had a few weeks after I became a brother until summer vacation started.  I took full advantage of the short time I had left that semester, and I went out almost every night.  In less than a week I put on all of the weight I lost during pledging, and my lungs, nostrils, liver, and penis made up for all the lost time as well.  The only significant memory I have from this time period is during Alumni Weekend, when I woke up at 8am on the stage at the party apartment in a puddle of some unknown liquid.  My guess is that it was some cocktail of beer, punch, and piss, but I try not to think about it. Luckily, my boy Pete picked me up so I could shower at his apartment, and then I bought an alarming amount of jiff to help resuscitate me in time for that night’s party.   
After weeks of unadulterated awesomeness, the semester finally came to an end.  Before I packed my shit and headed back to Albany for the summer, I made one fateful decision that would alter my future in a profound way.  My fraternity was having trouble finding a fifth person to live in the party apartment, and although I was still considered a freshman, I was older than most of the brothers, so they turned to me for help.  It didn’t take that much time for them to persuade me to sign the lease, and that signature set in motion pieces of a puzzle that would ultimately end in a Championship like no other.  So instead of this summer being the summer before my sophomore year, it was the summer before I lived in the party apartment.  It was the calm before the storm….