The Corrosion of The Degenerate Gentleman — My Life As a College Burner
It is 9:51pm on a Friday night in Oxford, MS. Me and the rest of my roommates are about to head up to the Fraternity house where we are having a band party tonight. The Futurebirds are playing and me and the boys are sure if we are obnoxious enough, and yell “play some panic” enough, we can get a Tall Boy encore. We are SAE’s and have enough nitrous tanks on our broken coffee table to make even the biggest and most unhygienic Pretty Lights fan crack a smile. All of my boys are rocking Peter Millar pull overs that we got from Hinton & Hinton in the square. We all went to Jackson Academy or Prep due to the high tax bracket our parents reside in. This obscene amount of wealth of course comes from the robust amount of industry and capital in Southern Mississippi. It is standard operating procedure to prove this privilege through a series of snapchats showcasing a $13 dollar ribeye from Publix that is juxtaposed with a Barbour Jacket and a bag of blow. We then screen shot these snapchats to post to twitter as is tradition within this bourgeois society. It is now time to go the SAE house where we will meet up with some cute blonde Tri Delts. We all agree the optimal course of action for us to get laid is to take snapchats of them when they are not looking with a caption of “ummmm yea…. This dog will hunt”. Genius. Not only does this show my place in the high achieving social strata of the SEC, but it also shows I am capable of growing and refining my humor. None of us have ever had to face any real-life ramifications of inappropriate actions and a global pandemic most like significantly stunted our social adjustment and development, so surely the 20-year-old girl from Mtn Brook will be of understanding when I blast her boobs on twitter. This will eventually embolden by behavior to the point where I think being racist is edgy. This outlook is confirmed when I get 26 likes from the burner community… all before midnight. Dr. Freeze, CPA even commented:
“Dear Friend,
love the tits.
Can confirm that dog hunts.
Best,
Dr. Freeze”
This night could not get any better…. That is until my boy from Parker, who is from Memphis and went to MUS, does something so brilliant that even our social chair who booked Moon Taxi in 2023 is in awe. Parker actually just bought a custom knitted belt that not only has all of the SEC team logos, but it also has a bag of blow stitched in it as well. Anyways, as we were all getting in from the party, Parker does something hilarious… Parker pours a beer and puts a finger into it (it’s literally still full) he then snapchats it with the caption saying “this cold one is for the troops. Fuck you liberals”. We are in tears. I start to blackout as I cannot handle the quirkiness that is so perfectly blended with randomness. This appreciation of nuanced humor is new to me due to the fact all of our jokes have evolved from a group-think echo chamber like mechanism of social media. It is time for bed. The very attractive girl was weirdly not into me, so I am alone going to bed. I will post a screenshot of our text conversation to twitter tomorrow morning saying “her loss, ball up top”. I will not do any self-reflection to understand why a normal, hott girl didn’t want anything to do with me. I will take a Xanax and ghost my bookie. this will provide enough content for me until next weekends band party… The Stews.
