At one point in time, this was an image appearing at random front doors on Ashford and Gardner Street in Allston, MA.  For those of you who don't go to Boston University, let me shed a little light.  These two streets, along with a few neighboring less significant streets, comprise what is referred to as the "BU Ghetto." 

On any Thursday, Friday or Saturday night, you will see packs of freshmen (usually roaming in groups comprised of an entire floor of one of the major forms) wandering like litters of lost puppies looking for their mothers' teet; except they're not looking for a warm nipple full of milk--they're looking for a phallic black object that spews warm beer after it is pumped.  I'm sorry for ruining your image of the keg tap by making it totally threatening to your sexuality, but once you get over that, I'll finish my story.

Okay, ready?

So, as a freshman I, like many before me, did the Ashford crawl.   Me and my roommate Eugene (pictured) along with other friends, would watch like eagles waiting to see where another large pack was begrudgingly let into a house with the understanding that they would provide five dollars for the anonymous binge drinking and hopefully an equally anonymous hookup with some drunk chick with her tits hanging out.

At the time, I was appalled by the fact that some random upperclassman would not want me in their apartment, drinking their beer and taking up their precious space--at the time, this rant would have been drenched in sarcasm; however, now that is not the case.

Now, with my housewarming party looming, I am dreading the impending arrival of the random freshmen.  I don't want to be that dick--you know that guy, the one who gets all big man and kicks the people out of his house--but this is my house, I plan on having fun and some random freshmen inviting their entire floor and that kid they met at orientation, they're just not gonna be a part of that night.  It wouldn't be a big deal if there were just one or two of them.  I mean what are two kids going to do?  Nothing.  But freshmen at a party spreads like SARS. 

So now with the stage set, let me apologize to those random people whose apartment I wandered through on a Friday night.  I'm sorry.  I lived in a dorm and I didn't have a place to consume beer.  I'm sorry that I was that Freshman on that Friday.