Three weeks into my $250,000 education, I present to you my latest endeavor in the art of language: comparing frat parties to mundane shit.
Do I have more important things to be doing? Objectively, yes. Do I even enjoy going to frat parties? That’s debatable. But even the shittiest and least committed of writers are willing to make sacrifices every once in a while.
Stay tuned for detailed creative analyses that double as my justification for going out. Coming up soon: frat parties versus your dog. Woof.