I didnāt look like them, or act like them. I was often ostracized by them (the fraternity I pledged) for not adhering to the status quo when it came to clothing. I was a flip flops guy (in the summer/boots in the winter). The Dixie shuffle (some refer to it as Bama bangs, but I know what we called it) haircut, Gray New Balances or Clarkās Wallabies, and front-tucked shirt, wasnāt my cup of tea. I took their ribbings in stride. Now for the humble brag: At parties, either at the fraternity house, or off campus, Iād wear their snide remarks, and brush them off. Those dipshits were constantly vexed by the fact that I constantly went home with the girls they brought to the party. The confused Hail Mary of, āheās from Texas. Thatās why heās wearing shitkickers and a tee shirt! What the fuck?ā Was always answered with a very controlled, but matter of fact, āBut he plays baseballā. Nostalgic rant over. I want to call in a fire-for-effect air strike on those fucktards. I knew my alma mater was going to figure out a way to make its way to the front page in a terrible manner. The only thing worse than those pieces of fuck-pie, are the twitter comments supporting them.