As much a state of mind as an action: unambiguously displaying confidence, intelligence, wealth, style and class while maintaining a positive, lackadaisical, attitude. One who truly fratts hard never forgets the value of having a good time or the responsibilities to which he is obligated.
Fratting includes but is not limited to, golfing, drinking, deep sea fishing, boating, sitting in the sun while at a pool or beach and finally denouncing guidos by any and every means necessary.
by RedButtons December 26, 2009
Frat boys don't give a shit about anything but getting hammered and raping bitches. They are the guys who continue the terrible stereotypes about fraternities. Fraternity men, on the other hand, have moral vales and actually care about getting good grades.
by Dewey June 14, 2004
What it takes to be a fratdaddy
I am a fratdaddy. I live in a frat house. I go to frat parties. I fight. I especially like to fight GDIs. I think if GDIs were cool that they would have pledged a frat in the first place. I know that GDIs are jealous of my social life. I believe that I am more fun and can party harder than any GDI. I am exclusive. I run dances. I am the brains behind Spring Break. I am the reason road trips exist. I hope you enjoyed my party last Friday. I can recite the Greek alphabet before the fire of a match burns out. I can rattle off all of my founding fathers as well as my fraternity obligations, but I don't know the words to my school song or my accounting professor's last name. I don't go to class. I never study. I devise elaborate schemes to cheat on my exams. I don't buy books. I have a low GPA. I have an endless supply of doctor notes from the campus health center. I am thankful that my frat buddies will get me a job after graduation because I know that I can't get one on my own. I give more than $1,000 of my parents' money in social dues each year to promote my frat's alcoholism problem. I drink because I am cool. I drink a lot because I am cooler than you. I serve alcohol to minors. I urinate in public. I do keg stands and have keg parties. I am the master at drinking games. I own you in quarters. I have never not drinken in the game "I never". If I can't find my beer bong I know I can find one next door. I don't binge drink-I continually drink. I have a pre-party for the "pre-party". I can dance. I wear my letters. I billboard my frat on sweatshirts. Most of my T-shirts are frat T's from frat parties. I wear long sleeved T-shirts under short sleeved T's. I own many plaid button-downs. I tuck in the front and let the back hang out. I own one baseball hat. I live in my khakis. I wear Timberlands in the winter and sandals in the summer. Sometimes I wear sandals in the winter because I can. I drive a sport utility vehicle my dad paid for. I play with my dog in the front lawn. My hair is a mess yet totally in style. I sometimes don't shave for weeks at a time. I am vogue. Ladies love me, but more importantly, I know ladies love me. I will never commit to just one girl. I don't wear condoms because it doesn't feel as good. I believe a girl gives up her right to say "no" if she is in my frat house after 1:30 a.m. I am shady. I don't care about what girls have to say. I only care about me. I will say anything to get a girl into bed. I will say even more to get a freshman girl in bed because I know she'll believe me. I am a player. I am loud and obnoxious wherever I go in public. I live in filth. I enjoy the smell of old beer in carpet. I prefer a dingy frat house to a clean apartment. I think living among rodents builds character. I leave the seat up. I can't clean up after myself. I put on a great front for parent's weekend. No one can see through me. I know every word to every song by Willie Nelson, David Alan Coe, and the Grateful Dead. I will sing them for you if I haven't picked up by nights end. I can't remember my parent's home phone number, but I do know every digit to their calling card number. I haze my pledges. I make them eat and drink things you would not imagine. I make them clean my house. I emotionally scar them for life. I abuse them physically. I make them cry. I then call them wimps. I later call them my brother if they don't de-pledge along the way. I know hell week. I am everything that is wrong in American. I am everything you wish you could be. I am a fratdaddy
I am a fratdaddy. I live in a frat house. I go to frat parties. I fight. I especially like to fight GDIs. I think if GDIs were cool that they would have pledged a frat in the first place. I know that GDIs are jealous of my social life. I believe that I am more fun and can party harder than any GDI. I am exclusive. I run dances. I am the brains behind Spring Break. I am the reason road trips exist. I hope you enjoyed my party last Friday. I can recite the Greek alphabet before the fire of a match burns out. I can rattle off all of my founding fathers as well as my fraternity obligations, but I don't know the words to my school song or my accounting professor's last name. I don't go to class. I never study. I devise elaborate schemes to cheat on my exams. I don't buy books. I have a low GPA. I have an endless supply of doctor notes from the campus health center. I am thankful that my frat buddies will get me a job after graduation because I know that I can't get one on my own. I give more than $1,000 of my parents' money in social dues each year to promote my frat's alcoholism problem. I drink because I am cool. I drink a lot because I am cooler than you. I serve alcohol to minors. I urinate in public. I do keg stands and have keg parties. I am the master at drinking games. I own you in quarters. I have never not drinken in the game "I never". If I can't find my beer bong I know I can find one next door. I don't binge drink-I continually drink. I have a pre-party for the "pre-party". I can dance. I wear my letters. I billboard my frat on sweatshirts. Most of my T-shirts are frat T's from frat parties. I wear long sleeved T-shirts under short sleeved T's. I own many plaid button-downs. I tuck in the front and let the back hang out. I own one baseball hat. I live in my khakis. I wear Timberlands in the winter and sandals in the summer. Sometimes I wear sandals in the winter because I can. I drive a sport utility vehicle my dad paid for. I play with my dog in the front lawn. My hair is a mess yet totally in style. I sometimes don't shave for weeks at a time. I am vogue. Ladies love me, but more importantly, I know ladies love me. I will never commit to just one girl. I don't wear condoms because it doesn't feel as good. I believe a girl gives up her right to say "no" if she is in my frat house after 1:30 a.m. I am shady. I don't care about what girls have to say. I only care about me. I will say anything to get a girl into bed. I will say even more to get a freshman girl in bed because I know she'll believe me. I am a player. I am loud and obnoxious wherever I go in public. I live in filth. I enjoy the smell of old beer in carpet. I prefer a dingy frat house to a clean apartment. I think living among rodents builds character. I leave the seat up. I can't clean up after myself. I put on a great front for parent's weekend. No one can see through me. I know every word to every song by Willie Nelson, David Alan Coe, and the Grateful Dead. I will sing them for you if I haven't picked up by nights end. I can't remember my parent's home phone number, but I do know every digit to their calling card number. I haze my pledges. I make them eat and drink things you would not imagine. I make them clean my house. I emotionally scar them for life. I abuse them physically. I make them cry. I then call them wimps. I later call them my brother if they don't de-pledge along the way. I know hell week. I am everything that is wrong in American. I am everything you wish you could be. I am a fratdaddy
by HomeChunks September 29, 2005
by 479 April 28, 2003
1. a college fraternity
2. The past tense form of letting out a juicy fart.
If you frat, chances are, you just smeared brown substance all over your precious underwear.
Here's how to deal with a time you frat:
1. Privately or publicly, strip and check to see if brown has taken over the ability to see the original color of your underwear.
2. If your underwear is poopy, waddle to the bathroom and start attempting to wipe the squished brownie off of your underwear. Using a wet paper towel will increase the chances of the brown color to smear all over your underwear, and if you use a dry paper towel, it'll be a long process to try to get that poop off of your beloved underwear.
3. If there is no paper towels in the bathroom, you have three options—either to rush to a different restroom, use your hands as a poop-scooper, or lick the juicy substance off your underwear.
4. Once you complete the steps, pull up your pants (it's optional if you want to wash your hands or not), run out of the bathroom, and convince the—now—audience that they saw nothing.
5. Run out of the building, and you're done!
6. (Extra) Complain to your Karen wife or male Karen husband about how a million aliens gathered around you like a ritual, slowly and gently pulled down your pants, and started moaning and singing in a foreign-to-this-planet language
2. The past tense form of letting out a juicy fart.
If you frat, chances are, you just smeared brown substance all over your precious underwear.
Here's how to deal with a time you frat:
1. Privately or publicly, strip and check to see if brown has taken over the ability to see the original color of your underwear.
2. If your underwear is poopy, waddle to the bathroom and start attempting to wipe the squished brownie off of your underwear. Using a wet paper towel will increase the chances of the brown color to smear all over your underwear, and if you use a dry paper towel, it'll be a long process to try to get that poop off of your beloved underwear.
3. If there is no paper towels in the bathroom, you have three options—either to rush to a different restroom, use your hands as a poop-scooper, or lick the juicy substance off your underwear.
4. Once you complete the steps, pull up your pants (it's optional if you want to wash your hands or not), run out of the bathroom, and convince the—now—audience that they saw nothing.
5. Run out of the building, and you're done!
6. (Extra) Complain to your Karen wife or male Karen husband about how a million aliens gathered around you like a ritual, slowly and gently pulled down your pants, and started moaning and singing in a foreign-to-this-planet language
by Xexdeh February 16, 2020
a place that breeds retarded fucks (very similar to a collegiate football program). These guys usually care about nothing but getting drunk and raping ignorant women that are dumb enough to let it happen. They have attitudes that closely resemble that of the ass holes you hated in jr high. I love how they make new recruits wear dress clothes and act all upstanding and important, yet they are the worst piles of trash on campus. Most members end up drinking and fucking off so much that their future becomes nothing more than a handfull of stories from the past.
by Joe September 25, 2004