The meanest text you can send is a simple “Haha, do you remember what we talked about last night?” No, I don’t remember, and I certainly don’t want to be reminded. TSM.

People being able to figure out which sorority you’re in because “you have a look about you.” TSM.

Getting the entire bar to sing “Courtesy of the Red, White, and Blue” to your boyfriend when he gets home from Afghanistan. TSM.

I shaved my legs for this. It better be worth it. TSM.

Using “I’m a legacy” as your excuse for everything, even if it’s not applicable to the situation. TSM.

As I walk through the valley in the shadow of the frat house, I will fear no standards, for my vodka and whiskey they comfort me. TSM.

Dressing like you’re in a sorority. Drinking like you’re in a fraternity. TSM.

Having the body of a trophy wife and the brains of a surgeon. TSM.