I am wearing your shirt now, but I would much rather be wearing your ring. TSM.

Who I take to bed is like how southern schools handle snow days: 3-5 inches and it’s not happening. TSM.

5 of my sorority sisters and I got engaged to our frat daddies over Christmas break. TSM.

The only boys that can get below my Mason-Dixon Line are those who have pledged under it. TSM.

Some Ohio State fans asked my pledge sisters and me why we were dressed up for the Sugar Bowl. We said “welcome to the SEC.” TSM.

I don’t dye my hair or starve myself to stay thin. I don’ t look down upon lower tier sororities. I’m not getting my MRS degree but an MBA instead. I can make a fantastic sandwich, award winning cupcakes and unbutton an Oxford and khakis with one hand. TSM.

Okay geed, you may think I “bought” my friends but at least I don’t have to take photos of myself in the bathroom just so there’s pictures of me on Facebook. TSM.

Every Christmas my entire family takes a pictures on the front steps of my grandparent’s house. The same plantation house, where starting back in 1755, a painting or picture has been made every single year. Except the years where all the sons were off being officers in the Confederacy. TSM.

I’m a Hepburn, not a Hilton. TSM.

Knowing that a sarcastic tone and the word “classy” is the most effective insult. TSM.