This article comes to us courtesy of BroBible, where it was originally published.
When you first step foot in a freshman's dorm room, you stereotype. You make snap judgements based off your dormmate's appearance, his relative cleanliness, and the 52 bags you saw his mother to lug up three flights of stairs during move-in day. Your first impressions will last until proven otherwise.
These are the stereotypes. They are all correct.
Bio: He's your RA. By the rules of every college movie, he's either a puritanical dictator, or just weird. Mine happened to be a jovial man who insisted we call him "Brother Brian." (I don't really have anything bad to say about Brother Brian.)
Catchphrase: "Does everyone like trust falls?"
By sophomore year: You'll see him once in the gym. You won't make eye contact.
Bio: TFM has been reading Total Frat Move since its inception. At age 16, he began hanging out in the backrooms of his father's country club, confusing the middle-aged members by calling himself a "BSD." By 17, he had purchased every belt crafted by Vineyard Vines and Southern Tide. At 18, he prepared himself for the rigors of fraternity life by "self-hazing," only to be rushed to the hospital after drinking paint thinner and waking up unable to stop repeating the words "champ" and "sport."
He will show up to move-in with golf clubs and a healthy swagger. He'll ask your dad when bought his "TFTC" minivan.
Catchphrase: "What're you looking at, GDI?"
By sophomore year: He'll be a casualty of a brutal rush season, winding up in a newly formed frat that "actually fits my needs well."
Bio: He is, for lack of a better word, the uber-bro, an enormous former high school football player who can drink 98.5% of the Siberian population underneath the table. On your first night out, you'll see him pound more than even the most seasoned frat guys, somehow keep his composure, then take home the cute girl you had your eye on. This will alarm you. Did Mr. Kickass grow up with a Jack Daniels-soaked pacifier? How is he already this good at drinking?
Catchphrase: "I dunno, I've always been good at drinking."
By sophomore year: He'll still be hitting his stride. His stride will last for 25 years.
Bio: The complement to Mr. Kickass, Mrs. Kickass will walk into any room, at any time, with a handle of green apple Burnett's and the order for everyone to take "SHOTZ." She has already taken many "SHOTZ." She can take more "SHOTZ" than you.
By sophomore year: Rehab. The Mrs. Kickasses never seem to keep it together quite like the Mister's. Life is cruel.
Bio: They found each other on Night One, or better yet, in some sort of orientation program. They may have finagled their way into the same dorm—she claimed allergies, he said his roommate violently attacked him—and they'll have soon shacked up like a couple celebrating their silver anniversary. These people are awful.
Catchphrase: "Are you going to the dining hall yet? You better not go to the dining hall without me."
By sophomore year: They'll be the subject of a blistering Rebecca Martinson column.
The N64 Diehard
Bio: The Nintendo Diehard is a dying breed. This is the dude who brought his N64 with well-loved copies of "Wave Racer," "Goldeneye," "Mario Party," "Blitz" and "Mario Kart," and piss on the man who ever suggests "Halo" on an HDTV. He'll have a drinking game for every old standby, and the pregames for "Mario Party Party" will actually be... pretty fun.
Catchphrase: "F**K YOU AND F**K KIRBY."
By sophomore year: His 17-year-old Nintendo will somehow soldier on, while your 4-year-old 360 flashes three red lights.