And That’s Why We Love Her

Previously from the Sorostitute: Morning Wood Special
More Hot Bitches: 99 Most Desirable Women
Random Excuse to post Nakedness: Playmate Loses Chihuahua to Meatball Attack

The Sorostitute is back with another chapter in the life and times of a frat-sweetheart. This time she’s apparently gotten nice and brown on a Monday and needs to get something off her chest…besides that pearl necklace. Today she’s ranting on doods who want to cuddle post plow and won’t leave. Well Sorositute, that’s what happens when you hook up with Bros. If you’d hook up with more Brahs, you wouldn’t have this problem. A Brah rolls out before anything even gets crusty.

**Editors Note- While the above picture is, in fact, a sorositute, it is not The Sorostitute. Said picture was taken at some frat house at Vanderbilt last year.

Another weekend of blacking out has come and gone. And now it’s Monday night and I find myself on the verge of blackout. My lame school decided to give us seniors two kegs to congratulate us for not transferring to a more fun state school. Luckily I had my fair share of the two kegs and was asked to leave after doing stripper moves on the poles on the dance floor. After tonight, and the weekend, I am reminded of two things I hate. Girls who can’t handle their liquor and boys who linger. Let me explain.

I’m not friends with very many girls, it’s not a hard fast rule, I just prefer to be hang with the guys. I don’t like girls who roll up to pregames with a bottle of flavored vodka and 3 different diet mixers in their purses. I think a case of Busch light is exactly what anyone needs. There are a select few fellow sorostitutes who I find worthy of my company, but one of them may have gotten cut from the list this weekend. I don’t appreciate people who do not have the ability to puke and rally. I’m a very lucky girl, because God blessed me with two important skills. The ability to boot and rally, but more importantly I am a next day vommer, which is clutch if I decide I want to take home some random frat dude. As a next day vommer, I can get him out the door in the morning before I have to puke. This friend, though, dragged me away from the keg at the frat party on Saturday to go outside with her to vomit. I was obviously not amused, since I was trying to get my game on while I still had the ability to stand. So as I was holding her up by the waist so she didn’t face plant, I was violently screaming about how she was ruining my game, that I was trying to find someone to go home with. I also began to yell about how if I couldn’t find anyone I was going to have to start calling ex boyfriends to try to have phone sex, but that’s a whole different story. Anyway, I took this girl home, and thanks to me sucking enough D over the years to get sweetheart and have my face on the composite, I was able to pull rank and get a pledge to bring me back to the party. That’s where I found Mr. Repeat. You see, I am somewhat conscious of the number of hookups in my head, so since repeats don’t count, I’m always down for a repeat. Last time I brought this fratter home, we did our thing, and a pledge picked him up by 5 am. Now let me tell you, some girls may bitch and whine about this, but I am eternally grateful. I love the leavers. I personally never stay past 9 am. If I can taste the Jaeger in my own mouth from the night before, I absolutely do not need to be tasting it in some boys mouth the next morning too. Well Mr. Leaver turned into freaking Mr. Next Morning Cuddler and worse, Mr. Lingerer. That’s right. As I was trying to get into the fetal position to nurse my hangover, he was trying to spoon me. He wouldn’t leave, when all I wanted was to lay in bed until I could muster up the strength to go to Bojangles. So, as a sorostitute, I beg you frat boys. Leave. I know you don’t want to stay, and I don’t want you to stay either. Granted, there may be some girls who never talk to you again if you leave. But have no fear, there will be some girls who, like me, will seek you out as a repeat. I beg of you, don’t linger. We don’t want you to stay. If you’re a leaver, I applaud you, and I’ll be waiting for you at the bar.