Open Letters to Inanimate Objects

Dear Frat Houses,

My god, you disgust me.  I’ve never been inside one of you (giggity) until yesterday, and I was astounded at the amount of filth that can accumulate from masses of men and sorority sluts tramping through your bowels.  You need to quite literally clean up your act, gum stuck under everything, beer cans stuck under stoves, tin foil in the microwave, do you have a death wish?  I hereby volunteer my cleaning abilities to each and every one of you, in exchange for large amounts of marijuana.  I am a clean machine, and you’ll feel like a new house after I’ve been through you with my neurotic tendencies and love for all spraying cleaning products.  You have time to save yourself.

Horrified,

Me


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