#191 Being Assholes

What the fuck happened last night? The last thing you remember from the bar is getting paid 10 dollars and a Slim Jim to #97 take a dump on the Women’s bathroom floor. You vaguely remember some girl screaming at you to stop, but you just gave her the fucking finger and kept reading some ESPN article on your iPhone. Just as you’re nodding your head thinking you couldn’t possibly get any more amazing, you see it. There’s a fucking girl in your bed. Who the fuck is that? You check your phone and find you sent out a mass #122 text at 2am: “What arre yoju up to?” with only one response from a girl that apparently goes by the #28 name, “Wendy’s Slut (fat).” Oh fuck, you went Dumpster Diving. Under normal circumstances, you’d be fucking pumped at banging with some girl when you had a BAC that would legally classify you as dead in 5 states, but this girl isn’t anything to celebrate – she’s fucking busted. And not “would only do her after 5 beers busted,” I’m talking fucking Ursula from “Little Mermaid” aka the “Khloe Kardashian of the Sea” busted. She needs to fucking go.

#190 Snow Days

I can’t believe this shit is almost over. It seriously feels like football just fucking started. As amazing as the buildup and ultimate shit show that is #104 Super Bowl Sunday will be, the completion of the NFL season leads to one of the worst stretches of the year where the closest thing we have to sports “entertainment” is Kenny Smith arguing with himself about whether Ernie Johnson or Charles Barkley look better in a fucking photo-shopped sombrero and mustache. Even worse, it’s almost as if hot Slam Pieces are fucking allergic to cold, since they’re nowhere to be found. Sure, it’s true that most Slam Pieces fly South of Bros’ belts for Winter, but still, it’s not like the fucking Summertime lay-up line. So, over the next couple months, with football and slam pieces (for the most part) out of the picture, what the fuck is there to look forward to? Why the fuck should we even drag ourselves out of bed? Because Winter means one thing: mother fucking Snow Days.

#189 Leading Girls On

Bros, I’m gonna let you in on a little secret: Girls love getting banged as much and maybe even more than we love doing the banging. So why do they act like they don’t? Fucking society. Society says if you submit to your biological urges and bang every Bro you see, you’re fucking unnatural. Now why the fuck did this happen? One word: Jealousy. All the fucking fat, ugly bitches who Bros obviously would never want to touch unless we’re AT LEAST 20 beers deep AND on a worse #78 cold streak than the Angels before that loser orphan kid started hallucinating and flapping his arms like some fucking retard decided they wouldn’t take this shit anymore. So they invented the word “Slut.”

#188 Christmas Parties

Bros don’t need a reason to fucking party. We throw down non-stop all year long. But shockingly, since fucking “normal” people aka losers don’t have our perfect genetic makeup, they can’t hang 365 days a year, so instead they created a few days where even they have no excuse but to celebrate. They call them “Holidays.” #99 New Years Eve, #86 Halloween, and even the made up Hallmark bullshit #151 Valentine’s Day definitely fit into this category, however the blowouts for all those holidays only last one day. There’s only special Holiday that last for an entire fucking month. It’s Christmas season, and that can mean only one thing, mother fucking Christmas Parties.

#187 Derek Jeter

I fucking hated Derek Jeter. I still hate the Yankees. You see, one of the earliest Sports memories I have came in Jeter’s rookie year. Before the Nationals came to DC and I blindly switched my allegiance much like all those die-hard lifelong Ravens fans, I loved the Orioles. The O’s led game 1 of the ALCS in the bottom of the 8th when the scrawny Jeter poked a shot out to right field seemingly in the range of Tony Tarasco only to have some little piece of shit, Jeffrey Maier, basically fucking yank it out of his glove. As Jeter trotted around the bases celebrating the counterfeit home run that changed the Series, my indifference turned to venom. For the next 10-15 years I saw him as a pretty-boy-club-hopping-motherfucker who always said the right thing so he wouldn’t draw any controversy. But after recent events, I’ve changed my opinion. At some point in every Bro’s life he has to overlook personal vendettas and realize that rather than just spitting out hatred, it might be time to tip your cap and show some fucking respect. While Derek Jeter’s put up some impressive numbers on the diamond, undoubtedly earning him a spot in Cooperstown, it’s his stats off the field that have earned him the more prestigious claim: Bro King.

#186 Not Doing Volunteer Work

A Bro’s time is fucking valuable. Our schedules are so fucking packed that we end up sacrificing going to class or work in favor of much more important shit like getting fucking wasted, being #161 hungover while #1 talking about how wasted we got, then fucking talking about hungover we were. Throw in watching Sports and videos of people getting hurt on Youtube, and you’ve got yourself a full fucking week. And since we barely even have enough time to sleep or work, who in their right mind would think we’ve got enough time to do some pointless shit that you don’t even get paid for? Fucking idiots, that’s who. The only time a Bro’s ever associated with a Volunteer is when he lays a fucking hundo on the Tennessee money line. Bros fucking hate volunteering.

#185 Hating Betches

If I actually gave a shit, I might even feel sorry for them. Much like an STD, I thought that if I just ignored them, they’d fucking go away. It’s truly sad that it’s come to the point where I’m forced to actually address this group of fucking hacks, but I’ve really got no choice - something needs to be done. While bros have been around since the dawn of time, there’s this new group that’s been emerging in just the past couple months. Not only do they think they’re our equals – somehow, they think they’re actually fucking better than us. They’re fucking terrible. They’re fucking delusional. They’re a fucking menace to society. They’re the fucking Betches.

#184 The Turkey Bowl

That’s what you call a fucking shitshow. It all started with you and your bros going out on #Wednesday night for the biggest fucking drinking night of the year. It was pretty depressing to see all the former hot girls from your #111 High School class who’re now fat as shit and/or pregnant. It’s hard to believe that girl you finger-blasted under the bleachers in gym class is fucking married. Do you think her husband knows about the time you guys “horsed around” in the Chem Lab safety shower? Whatever, at least you got to bang her when she was hot.

Anyways, Wednesday’s shitshow turned into you #48 puking your fucking brains out at your Grandmother’s apartment Thanksgiving morning. After that you invented the game “Drink everytime Jim Nantz sucks off Tony Romo,” so needless to say you blacked the fuck out. You woke up surrounded by half eaten pies, smashed decorative squash, and a fucking Cornucopia on your head. Your parents stacked up some cleaning supplies and a note, “I WANT IT GONE BY NOON!!” Fuck them. They can’t tell you what to do. Besides, you gotta fucking concentrate on the main event. All year long you’ve been waiting for this moment. You throw on some John Randle Eye Black, strap on some cleats, and start jumping up and down in front of the fucking mirror screaming Under Armor catch phrases. It’s time alright – time for the fucking Turkey Bowl.

Joe Paterno and the Worst Scandal in Sports History

*I’ll be back to normal next week, but I really couldn't bring myself to write anything else and this is just some shit that needs to be said. I’m not trying to pile on Joe Paterno, just wanted to give the perspective from a guy with obviously low moral values about what I consider to be the worst scandal in sports history.

Penn State Football has been a part of my entire life. Growing up I had family in Pennsylvania who lived for Kerry Collins, Curtis Enis, and Lavar Arrington and when I graduated College I met a lot of great people in DC who would get together every Saturday morning in their White jerseys to cheer on Anthony Morelli, Derrick Williams, and Evan Royster. While the numbers changed on those Blue and White uniforms, there was always that same fixture in his trademark horned rimmed glasses and tie pacing the sideline and barking out orders: Joe Paterno. As the years went by and his interviews grew less and less about the X’s and O’s of football and more about how proud he was of his kids, it became apparent that Joe Paterno had transformed from the mastermind that led the Nittany Lions to those National Championships in the ’80 to a symbol for the University of tradition and doing things the right way. Unfortunately, over the past week, we’ve found out that that tradition and success came at a price.

#183 Workaholics

Bros are fucking chameleons. We adapt to any situation with ease, naturally fitting into our surroundings. No matter the place or time, we pretty much always fucking dominating that shit. However, there are a couple periods in every bro’s life where adaptation is just fucking tough. Puberty is the first case where bros “struggle” to adjust. While girls go through like 10 years of being awkward and shit while learning how to deal with constant #123 blood loss, we usually have a two weeks stretch where we’re wondering why a fucking plant is growing out of our balls. While getting fucking hard nipples can prove to be a tough time in every young bro’s life, the real transition that challenges us takes place when we leave the friendly confines of the College campus we spent the past 5-6 years at for our first 9-5 job.