Gentlemen, over the past semester I’ve had the pleasure of doing what many of you degenerates can only dream of. I’ve been staying in my girlfriend’s sorority house when I visit her. While this obviously sounds like a cool thing, it’s actually pretty crazy. Especially when you grasp exactly what it means for 30 girls to live under one roof, literal insanity.

Now since my first days of college I’ve maintained a strict "No Shitting in the Sorority House" policy. Call me stupid, lame, or a huge pussy. No matter what, I am terrified of the consequences of pooping inside a srat house. Since we all know girls don’t poop, my biggest concern is that all of the toilets are only built to handle pee. The mere thought of actually clogging a toilet in a sorority house makes my heart freeze and then pound with terror. That is why I have my policy.

When I was an undergrad, this really posed no problem. If I was going over to one of these fine places I’d either off-load before I got there or I’d hold it until I got back to campus. Things are slightly different now because I was literally staying at the house, so there wasn’t much of a choice but to hold it all in until the opportune moment arose to shoot over to campus and blow up one of the industrial toilets there. Such was my life for the first several visits. Until last weekend that is...

I was in town for an extended weekend for my girlfriend’s concert and her sorority’s formal. Everything had been going along swimmingly and my trips to campus to see my friends and poop had been a success. Then disaster struck. I had to shit. Bad. My girlfriend, her roommates, and really the rest of the sorority were all upstairs getting ready for 4 hours. This was mostly half-naked girls running around and screaming which was why I had been banished to the downstairs dining room. Anyway, I really had to shit, but my keys were upstairs and I was strictly forbidden from going up there until I was told otherwise. Normally I would give zero fucks and head right up, but like I mentioned earlier, the fear of 30 women hating you all at once, in one place, was enough for me to do whatever they wanted.

I took several minutes to pump myself up before retreating to the furthest secluded, tiny one-holer that was tucked away in a back room. It might’ve been the fastest I’ve ever shat. The whole time I was terrified that some chick would haphazardly wander in or even around the bathroom. It was the fastest I’ve ever wiped. I was a goddamn blur. As I flushed and quickly washed my hands, I ninja’d my way out of the bathroom I smiled and calmly returned to the dining room. Suddenly I wasn’t afraid any longer. I had faced the srat house and won.