Kappa Epsilon Gamma
Once upon a time, when I was chalking the Diag during the first F.R.A.T. Party campaign, a frat boy approached me and asked, "Would you call your country a cunt? No, so why do you call my fraternity a frat?" First of all, genius, because if you chop the "-ry" off of country, you get count, not cunt. Stupid frat boy. B of all, it's a free count; so, I'll insult frat boys all I want.

That said, the Mountain of Love is in a frat, a musical fraternity the letters for which I can never remember, but I'd recognize them if I saw them. Over the years, I've given him a hard time about that, probably too hard a time. Yes, he's in a frat, but he's never been a frat boy. So, I am hereby decreeing that I will never again tease the Mountain about being a Greek, though I reserve the right to make fun of all other frat boys and sorostitutes. Baby steps, baby steps.

H-A-D
Have a scary day.