Dingy bars are the greatest. Sure, it’s dark. Sure, it’s pretty loud and the jukebox only has two female artists. But the drinks are always cheap, and I've only gotten weirdly hit on once by this older dude that rather abrasively insisted that I don’t smile enough, despite not knowing me whatsoever. I love it. But recently, I’ve noticed an alarming and growing trend of young, attractive, preppy start-up looking bros stampeding my favorite holes in the walls, and it’s stressing me out. I want to see cute young professionals at West Sixth happy hour, when I’m looking more alive and can (barely) tolerate the rowdy drunkenness. I know, it’s a lot to ask, but here is my sonnet requesting that these bros get the hell out of my dive bars. As a forward, I actually tried to write this in iambic pentameter. It was really hard, and I probably didn't nail it. I’m not really that sorry. Poetry purists, this is Austinist. Go read some Shakespeare.

A Sonnet for Cole, Trip and Patch

At dive bars I expect a certain crowd, Weird beards and leather, ponytails so long. I’m not saying other's presence is disallowed, But large groups of bros? It all just feels so wrong.

You came in like a damn fraternity. Sporting striped button-downs and hip designer jeans. You were drunk and sang our U.S. anthem for eternity. I love the stars and stripes, but it was unnecessary by all means.

You all look like you’re named Cole or Trip or Patch. I heard you ranking girls, and it was hard to bear. I know drinks are just $2.50 and this place is such a catch, But why can't you just return to 6th street and drink there?

As a 21-year-old girl I’m not really one to preach. But I don’t care if I’m an ass, just go, I beseech.

Reposted from Austinist.

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People are sometimes surprised to learn that despite my distaste for crowds and loud noises, I’m actually kind of into Texas football. I’m not going to Dallas for the game this year, but I’ll absolutely be watching from the comfort of my bedroom and I’ll absolutely be drinking margaritas. We might not win (read: we won’t win) but that’s OK, because OU still sucks, and here is my acrostic poem proving it.

Outranked academically—UT is 52, OU is 101. I suspect U.S. News and World Report meant 1000000000.

UGLY. Texas is the 14th most attractive state, according to the Daily Beast/the Bible. Oklahoma was 35. That’s not even the top half.

Sooners? What the hell is a sooner?

Tornados per 10,000 square miles—Oklahoma has 6.85.

I Googled “things to do in Norman” and “Visit the National Weather Center!” was ranked second.

Leadership—three Texans have served as U.S. presidents. Zero Oklahomans.

Lack of diversity. Norman’s population is 76 percent white.

Sadness everywhere. According to Gallup, Oklahoma is the 9th saddest state.

Understand that Oklahomans invented the parking meter, and Texans invented the frozen margarita.

Can we just talk about how the Oklahoma state song starts with “Brand new state! Brand new state, gonna treat you great! Gonna give you barley, carrots and pertaters”

Keep in mind that the official record is still 59-43-5 with Texas in the lead.

STILL NOT SURE WHAT A SOONER IS, Y’ALL, BUT I’D SOONER BE DEAD THAN BE ONE.

We might not win tomorrow, but at least we’re not going home to Oklahoma. That being said, please don’t live tweet the game. It’s annoying; you’re annoying, amen.

Reposted from Austinist.