To all of those fraternity hating losers:
"When
 my ancestors came over to this great country 400 years ago, they had a
vision for a utopia, free from minorities, liberals, poor people,
homosexuals, and immigrants. There are few today who share such lofty
ideals, but we're easy to find: Pastel polo shirts, loafers without
socks, tucked-in shirts, but most importantly, collars up.
Call me a douchebag. Call me an arrogant little cocksucking dickhead. Beat the shit out of me if I'm not with fifteen of my B-frat friends (unlikely). But just know this: I interned at Smith Barney this summer. Where did you work? A Blockbuster? That's right you insignificant sack of dogshit; I'm going to be your boss. So take your t-shirt wearing, financial aid, blue-collar ass over to Blockbuster and get me a copy of Old School. Do you even own a tuxedo?"