Dear Mom and Dad,

So, I've already told you that I was rushing one of the local frats here. News came a week or so ago...guess what? I got a bid! For the past little while now, I've been pledging with some of my other friends. It's been great. I can only hope that I actually get in. This is a great frat and I really know everything I'm doing is worth it.

Yesterday, a man named "Trouble"� smeared glass in my face and then showed me his ballsack. I tell you, these guys are some pranksters. Why, last night I slept in a hole they dug for me in the crawl space under the house. It was really cold and I think it was formerly a raccoon's nest, because one kept coming around and clawing my wrists as I tried to fight it off. I named him Dylan and we're best friends.

To actually prepare for all of this I decided to watch Harold Loyd's 1925 comedy classic "The Freshman."� Boy, who knew that today's frat brothers would love slapstick comedy as much as they did back then? Although now when you do a pratfall and you're lying on the ground they try to stick various glass bottles up your rectum. It doesn't hurt too much if I try and think of something I really like such as blueberry pancakes or an unswollen anus.

I know this is all for the best. Believe you me; these guys are some of the best known fella's on campus. This one time, they dragged me a ways behind a motorcycle while I was naked and they made me scream that I was a pussy. They got such a big audience to come out and see that.

I think the guys are taking a liking to me, too. One of my pledge brothers died, and they took me aside and had a private discussion about it with me to make sure I was OK. They said that if I ever needed to talk about it or try and get outside help, they'd give me a round-trip ticket to Deadfuckerville. You know what? I think they really meant that, too.

How's the dog? Is he still tearing up the couch? I think I broke my leg. When's Susan coming back home for the weekend? I'd love to come see her sometime. I miss you all very much.

I'm going to have to go in a minute. The brothers want us all to go to the house and clean it up. Apparently, Jared had his birthday and they all got drunk and passed out and wrote stuff on each other in permanent marker. It's like the pranking doesn't stop, even when you become a member! I'm so happy I'm going to be joining this group of guys. I have every reason to believe that it will be for the better. Take, for example, all the hot, drunk, and complete defenseless women you can fight over with your frat brothers and then commit something that comes precariously close to rape with (it's not though, because it was never even a date to begin with so, it's all cool). Also, I have the assurance that when I become one of the senior members it'll be my turn to do lewd and semi-homosexual acts to pledges! It really is a win-win situation, you guys.

Plus, I'll live in a house which will permanently smell like weed, booze, and vomit! Not to mention all the cool stereotypes that come along with joining a frat, like that we all do gay things to each other and aren't smart and have no ethics and are alcoholics and belong to rich families and pick on people and only joined to get a false sense of superiority and exclusiveness and we easily feel threatened and can only get friends by having people make us do horrible things. Well, I have to go make a thirty song mix-tape consisting only of the Beastie Boy's "Fight for Your Right to Party."�


Love Always,
Andrew