Yo Yo Yo Yo! What up playazzzz?! It’s the Chadman coming at you from sunny Des Moines, Iowa (or, as I like to call it, Des Moines-vegas)! Sorry I haven’t posted much in the last couple months. It’s hard to get an internet connection at bonfire parties, Toby Keith concerts, and your mom’s house – you know what I’m saying!!!
Needless to say, it’s been a pretty sick summer with enough Bud Light Limes, bikini tops, and body shots to drown a herd of midgets. Still though, I’m kind of looking forward to school starting again. I’m not saying I’m excited about getting back to class. (Do I look like a homo?) It’s just kind of annoying how people in Des Moines have no idea of how much ass I kick back at school.
Sounds crazy right? I mean, I go to a pretty big school that was ranked #3 best party school, #5 hottest chicks, and #1 most awesome. [Editors note: The final ranking has not been verified.] Yet somehow the semi-cute cashier at Ross hadn’t heard about Phi Theta Kappa’s epic St. Paddies Day foam/lingerie/jungle cat party. I made a joke about the time we ruined the Lambda doucher’s winter formal with a bunch of marshmallow Peep’s and bag full of ferrets and she just giggled and gave me her number. Where’s the respect? Where’s the appreciation for what I’ve accomplished?
Yesterday I was at Big Al’s Booze Barn stocking up for the weekend and I said, “Man! I haven’t seen this much Keystone in one place since the ‘Jeza-bong’ died,” and Al just asked to see some ID. I couldn’t believe it. Does he not know about the female mannequin I converted into a double barrel beer bong named Jeza-bong? Impossible. They did a story on it in “The Daily Wildcat!” How could he miss that?
Nowhere is this ignorance of all things Chad more obvious than the pain-in-the-balls internship my uncle set me up with at First Fidelity Bank. From the amount of disrespect I get there, you’d think they’ve never even seen an Intra-mural championship t-shirt. Everyone’s like, “Hey Chad, spreadsheet this. Hey Chad, expense report that. Hey Chad, corporate memo this.” And I’m like, “Did I hook up with Tifani Rodgers in the library bathroom (twice!) just to turn around and take orders from you people?” No I did not. I don’t understand how my uncle – a PTK alum – could hook me up with this gig but forget to inform his employees that they were working with the guy who was voted “Most Likely to Be Will Ferrell” by West Des Moines High School. Maybe he doesn’t even know.
I’m not usually one to blow my own horn, but sometimes I feel like I have to. Every time I go with B-Rad to a high school party, I feel like I’m in that Toby Keith song. You know, the one that goes, “I’m not as cool as I once was, but I was cooler once than you’ll ever be.” My little brother and his friends think they’re sooo badass just cause they can shotgun half a beer without puking. Come on! I was routinely executing 96-hour mid-week benders before they were out of middle school. Kids these days…am I right?
Now you can see why I can’t wait to get back to my campus kingdom. Des Moines is a fun town and all, but I prefer to spend my time with people who appreciate how many Cuervo shots it took to get my picture on the wall above the bar at Dirty Phil’s. My dad says I have to get a 2.0 this semester or he’s cutting me off and yeah, that’s gonna be a real bitch, but, hey, at least I’ll get to pour raccoon pee on the new pledges! There isn’t an internship or GPA in the world that can get you respect like that.