Heart-to-hearts during group bathroom trips. TSM.

“I’d rather take the fine than play an intramural sport.” TSM.

Wearing his shack shirt to his fraternity’s pajama party. TSM.

Continuing to learn about things you did that one drunken night months later. TSM.

Your grandmother’s bid card from 1946 looking exactly like yours. TSM.

Wearing your shack shirts like medals of honor. TSM.

Chasing with a blow job with a Diet Coke. TSM.

Sitting back and watching as he does all the things for you he swore he never would for a girl. TSM.

Being more worried about chipping your cooler than your manicure. TSM.

Referring to your big as if she’s a survival guide…because she kind of is. TSM.

Handling an ugly Snapchat more delicately than a sext. TSM.

Being nicknamed “Britney the Kidney” for your alcohol processing abilities. TSM.

Getting just as many shout-outs as he does at his senior ritual banquet. TSM.

You can tell a lot about a girl by her big. TSM.

The cashier at the craft store assuming you’re in a sorority by the sheer number of crafts you have. TSM.

Calling Tinder a “mutual friend” when someone asks how you met. TSM.

Being both the best and worst role model for your littles. TSM.

The journey from “wild freshman” to “scary senior.” TSM.

“I wish I could have been there!”
“You were there…” TSM.

Good hair days are good days in general. TSM.