If I Want to Suck a Deke, I’m Going to Suck a Deke.

Dear Cornellians, Michiganders, prison inmates, and internet predators,

What pills are we poppin’ here at the ‘reject ivy’? We are, after all, “high” above Cayuga’s waters. Not only do we have (arguably) the ugliest, most AWK student body, but those who are socially-acceptable and not-too-grotesque are absolute tool sheds. I know because I used to be one of them before I grew up, turned celibate, and starting cooking again (sounds tear-inducing, but I really don’t miss the game at all). Others, sadly, have yet to learn: I got passed the usual tablet of Frat-a-din last night; prescribed by the wretched, slanderous souls on JuicyCampus and, sadly, sorostitutes who consider themselves to be “top tier.”

The plotline? I was hangin’ with a few friends, doing them crazy extracurricular activities that almost-twenty-somethings do in upstate New York. Belting out *I Wanna Be With You* at a lake-side bar? Why not! Getting into fights with crazy, insecure bitches? Sign me up! Making a music video to rival last summer’s M.Hal&Friends production of “A Public Affair”? In the works!

While singing, drinking, bitching, and music-video-making would make for a full evening for normal people, the night was still very young; McGraw Tower chimed its sweet bells 12 times over, indicating the time was exactly midnight. What to do? I call a home girl, interrupting her and her boyfriend and … someone else? Total double teaming in the works? Whatever. Too many questions! She excitingly mentioned that she had heard through the Manischewitz-vine that there were two fraternity parties; one at an “upper-tier” annex in collegetown and the other at Delta Kappa Epsilon.

I relay the message to my hotties-with-bodies (all three of them @ Cornell):

“DKE?! F*ck that shit! SO lame. SO third tier! SO gay! (I cringed) I’m totally hittin’ up ctown!”

“I heard that fraternity sucks major Deke (I un-cringed). Let’s go to the annex.”

“My friend’s sorority had a mixer with them and almost died because of the extreme awkwardness.”

It was clear that they were pro-tool-shed and not pro-DKE, but I couldn’t help defending the house. I love sticking up the underdog (Naughty Line #43), and there was absolutely no reason for their prejudice.

“So what if they’re gay? …and we don’t even know them. I can’t even think of one person in DKE. The party might be fun?”

I got blank stares. Silence. Then, hottie-with-a-body (HWB) #1 said it.

“No DKEs anywhere should be given the time of day. Going there isn’t a question, and this isn’t even a conversation that’s worth wasting breath over.”

(HWB #1 fully knows about my liaisons, mind you).

She realized her err as soon as the words came out. I was looking at a hard-core, *I’m better than the world because I’m in a TOP sorority* bitch.

No, honey, your pixie-stick self is not better than anyone. NO ONE is better than anyone. Mike(y) might be better at mastering the MCAT than me, Paris’s fellatio skills might (read: MIGHT) be better than mine, but no one, as a human being, holds higher value over anyone else. Money? Fame? Star-studs? The fact that you dressed like an alpha-slut and were extra fake for rush week in January? Hella-NO.

Get over yourself. You go to Cornell. This means either a) you’re smart or b) you have some damn fine connections. Being a student here doesn’t necessarily make you all-that. Want to be all-that? Go to a party school. So you can be in Kappa Kappa Gamma, SAE, Alpha Phi, Alpha Delt, Sig Pi, Sig Phi, Sig Chi, Sig ahwaaa(?), or… shudders… Delta Gamma, but, in the end, you’re just as awkward and fugz as the rest of us.

Think you’re not the average Cornellian? Prove it to me.

…and I’m certainly not ashamed to tell the WWW that I have and love (and sometimes hate, but mostly love) my own personal Deke, thank you very much.

Love,

M.Hal