Fraternities get a bad rap these days because of all the racial slurs and hazing and trumped-up rape charges, but the fraternity I was in, Wry Mega Strap-on, was different.

When you joined, they didn’t clamp jumper cables on your nipples or make you eat turds or stick jalapenos up your butt like the classier frats. You just had to prove you could play backgammon rather than chess, and had to cite at least three examples of culture that weren’t pop.

That last one was why so few made it into our hallowed ranks.

We were real nerds, holding root beer keggers, not fake gamer or comic book nerds. We lost interest in Star Trek early on because of how stupid a show it is.

The needs of the one are equal to the needs of the few or the many because anything else is totalitarianism.

Saying you’re street smart, not book smart is like saying you’re pretend smart, not real smart.

And other random zingers….

My time at Wry Mega Strap-on was good. I have fond memories of waking up in the morning without a hangover, looking at the Chore Chart, and doing my housework for the day. Then off to class, where I sought knowledge rather than a career.

I graduated, all smart and shit, near the top of my class. I have debt, sure, but it doesn’t bother me because I’m not going to pay it. Being non-materialistic, I will just intentionally earn very little money and defer, defer, DEFER, until I die.

Boom, free education.

Don’t let the bastards keep you down. Lie low and they will already think you are, but you’ll know. You’ll know the truth.

I often wonder what became of the boys in Wry Mega Strap-on. We aren’t in touch and I don’t remember any of their names because I ignored them all while I was there.

Kyle. I think one was called Kyle.