The College’s rule on newspapers is clear: Fuck you, fuck you, fuck you, fuck you.
But it seems that rule has not stopped The Williams The Record, an underground cell of supposed “journalists,” all of whom have for sure never done a keg stand. Fortunately, however, our field pledges have shone a light on this scourge.
Cringe Organization With Significant Subpar Heads
Run by a bunch of total geeds, William Record often drones on and on about investigations into shit nobody cares about like underground fraternities. I mean, what is it with people these days making a big conspiracy about nothing. Sure, our Mondo Chieftain branded some frosh last week with a large epsilon symbol and maybe, just maybe, Tyler, our Big Kahuna, was found on top of Schow the other night passed out in a toga, but come on. The idea that there’s some sort of secret, underground, hidden, concealed, out of sight, disguised, shrouded, veiled, translucent fraternity is frankly outrageous.
Is it now a crime these days, for me to get absolutely blistered with my boys, do a couple lines of coke, put on the skin of a deer which I strangled with my bare hands, and then tie some kid to a chair for forty-five hours while I play Careless Whisper by George Michael on loop for the whole time? I mean is this what we’ve come to, labelling anything we don’t like or feel good about as a fraternity? What sort of a society do we live in where we value “journalists” (lame) over brothers (cool)?
Reluctance to Play Us in Pong
Other than sending in an Op-Ed entitled, “I’m Gonna Beat the Fuck Out of You,” contacting The William Record has proven to be especially difficult. When cornered by our enforcer main dude, Ford Bronco ‘22, several editors of the features section refused to take us up on our offer of a quick game of pong even after we told them they could call electricity. Just a bona fide group of herbs if you ask me. Regardless, someone on this campus has to work to keep us all safe from the scourge that is print journalism, and we at St. Anthony Hall will not rest until every natty has been drunk, every cup has been stacked, and every “newspaper” has been torn to pieces.
St. Anthony Hall would like to continue its reporting on underground newspapers. If you have any information about the Williams Record or similar organizations, past or present, please shut the fuck up.