January 7, 2015
Some call it CU, some call it University of California at Boulder, but most just know it as the Promise Land. Some betches love Boulder because they were sooo over the Orange County bubble and couldn’t get into USC anyways. Some betches love Boulder because they’re passionate about getting high, and it’s really that simple. And some betches love Boulder because something about the possibility of taking a shotski with a pro snowboarder and other hot white people just makes them feel comfortable. Whatever the reason, betches love Boulder, and Boulder doesn’t mind them either.
Engineering: If you spot a scrawny male on campus wearing tennis shoes and cargo pants intensely sprint-walking, you know where he is headed. It’s well respected, beyond Asian, and getting around the building itself is more complicated than a Betches Comm degree. Moving on.
The Leeds School of Business: Also kind of well-respected and somewhat challenging to get into (but not really). It’s the school that all the pros-in-training go to and a handful of betches who give a shit about their future. Some of the lower division classes are too demanding to be high in, which is super annoying. If you make it past these weed-out classes, pun intended, focus your degree on Marketing and blaze your way to graduation.
The Journalism School: There are rumors that it doesn’t even exist anymore, but as far as a betch is concerned, it’s the only school that matters. Every Advertising, PR, or Broadcast Journalism class is filled with half of your sorority and your gay BFF, plus you’ll get a 4.0 without ever actually doing work.
Arts & Sciences: Admissions will let anyone into this one as long as your Dad is paying out-of-state tuition. Betches flock to the Communications department, where you literally get to study common sense for 4 years. A & S can be super breezy, but make sure to avoid professors that take their Nomadic Tribes of Africa class way too fucking seriously.
Boulder is so #chill that you don’t need to be in Greek Life to look like you’re having more fun than your high school bestie on social media. Regardless, joining a sorority is probably a betches best move. Chi Omega, DG and Pi Phi are generally considered top-tier, but Alpha Phi and Kappa are not embarrassing to be in. Theta is a perfect choice for a stoner betch who actually doesn’t want to be in a sorority.
Fraternities at Boulder have had a rough ride ever since a pledge died in a hazing incident in 2004. They got kicked off campus, so if you think that means the University has no control over them, than yeah, that’s exactly right. SAE, Pi Kapp, Sig Pi and Kappa Sig are all top tier, but now Pi Kapp and SAE have lost their houses, so their futures depend on still being able to pull bros during rush. These days, the frat scene manifests in kind-of-exclusive-but-not-really annex parties, where betches get to mingle with rich and semi-hot douchebags who also like to camp.
When it’s still warm out, take a hungover walk up the Flatirons with your besties just for the Instagram. Or, go to the Rec Center and lay out by the pool that’s in the shape of a buffalo and Snapchat that.
If you can figure out how the fuck to park on Pearl Street, do so. Then go shopping.
During the winter, day ski Keystone or Breck if you’re feeling really ambitious. Make sure to take an EpicMix photo and post it on Facebook so people know you went. If it’s April or May, drink a lot of Fireball, wear an 80’s one piece, and ski some slush at A Basin. Maybe bring some cocaine.
If it’s like, crunch time, go to Norlin Library with your roomies and look casual. Sit in the Fishbowl, pretend to do work, socialize loudly, take a break after 15 minutes and go to the Laughing Goat to talk shit about the hippie barista and then meet up with your Adderall dealer. All in preparation for tomorrow’s midterm, of course.
Boulder’s bouncers are more uptight about fake IDs than Kim-Jong-un is uptight about being fictionally assassinated in front of American theatre audiences, so don’t try to use your fake in Boulder. A strict bar scene just makes the house party scene that much better, and a well-integrated betch can find a kegger Tuesday-Saturday without even branching out that much.
For over 21 betches, Monday night means flip night @ The Goose, where you’ll spend 40 bucks with the promise that your vodka soda might just be 25 cents from winning a coin toss. Tuesday is Ladies Night @ The Goose. The bartenders’ pour you fucked up amounts of well vodka for no clear reason besides making you black out. It’s as rapey as it sounds. Thursdays happen at Absinthe, the only ‘club’ in Boulder where you can relive your abroad experience. Friday and Saturdays have a tendency to go down at the Walrus, the Downer or the Attic if you’re like, mature.
Having the worst team in the PAC 12 makes no difference to a betch looking to get fucked up. Tailgate season is entirely unaffected by the game, score, or anything to do with the sport of football. People treat game days as an opportunity to wear CU paraphernalia, throw wild dartys, and then start their 10 pm pregame again after a 4 pm drunk nap. Watch out for the Blackout Game every fall, where kick-off happens after dark. The rest of that night is obviously self-explanatory.
The best part of every semester is the weekend when your favorite frat rents out an entire resort in Breckenridge, Aspen or Vail all in hopes of banging their dates. Usually they end up just fucking one of their brother’s dates instead. Betches like to spend the weekend in the resort pool, when they use their massive big gulp mixie as a flotation device and show all the other betches that they’re still skinny despite last weeks pizza massacre incident.
Three credits in three weeks. It’s basically 21 days of drinking beer on fratio’s and crawling home at 4 a.m. every night. You’ll flunk your class and gain 10 pounds but you should probably do it anyways.
Freshmen are required to live on campus. Any dorm on actual campus is fine although Sewall or the dorms surrounding Farrand Field are densely betch-o-populated. If you’re assigned to the off-campus Willville dorms, have someone important call the Campus Living office to get you out of it. Otherwise, your freshman life will be dictated by a bus schedule until you find an upperclassmen slampiece to bunk with 5 nights a week.
After freshman year, living on the Hill is a must unless you want to fall into social oblivion. All the houses in the neighborhood are shitholes and everyone’s rent hovers around $1,000 per person a month, so like, let your Dad know.
The C4C: Yeah it’s a freshman dining hall but it’s one of the most noteworthy sites in Boulder. It’s literally the size of Connecticut and has every food type ever thought of by a fat chick that has nothing better to do. After eating there for a few weeks it tastes like there is laxatives in the meat. There actually is. Plan accordingly.
The Buff: Home to 99 cent Mimosas and 2,000 calorie breakfast dishes. A perfect spot for hungover brunch if you don’t want to eat again for a few days.
The Med: the regular haunting spot for betches on a group dinner. Go for happy hour and order the tapas.
Cosmo’s: a pizza place that serves up slices the size of a betch’s head with a side of spicy ranch. It’s unfortunately passed every time you’re drunk and walking home from the bars. Usually regretted.
Bovas: A sketchy convenience store that serves up the best drunk sandwich known to man. It’s called the Brandon, and if you order one sober, you should probably just transfer. Always regretted.
Going abroad the spring of your junior year is a must. Semester at Sea, Florence and Barcelona are the most popular spots but you’ll pretty much know a fellow Buff in any foreign city unless you go to like, Africa.
It’s done in Cabo, and it’s done well. In-state kids who don’t have access to their dad’s credit cards sometimes go to Lake Havasu or some shit.
- have sex at the Star during winter finals
- date a pro skier for a month and then realize his lifestyle is disgusting
- float down Boulder Creek
- kiss the Buffalo on your 21st
- go to the X games
- sue your landlord
- ball tap a Ralfie Runner
- go to Beachapalooza…but just once
- sign your name on the roof of the Sink
Police that have nothing better to do than hand out MIPs, it’s fucking cold sometimes, sketchy homeless people, Trustafarians, no one knows how to drive, people from California if you’re not from California, probably going to Detox at least once, forgetting diversity exists