It’s Friday night. You and your bros are sitting around watching American Gladiators on ESPN Classic trying to figure out what to do tonight. Some girls you know were supposed to be throwing a party, but for some reason they cancelled, probably because one of them had an abortion. You could hit the bar, but you’ve been there the past three nights and you’re pretty sure the bouncer is not going to let you in since you #36 peed off the balcony onto the crowded outdoor patio last night. You start to text people to see what they are up to, and everyone has the same response – “Party on Cullen.” So looks like it’s an easy decision, right? Wrong. You’ve known about this party for a while, 10 kegs and Jungle Juice, but even though you are a bro you didn’t get the invite. Unfortunately, one of the bro-haters that lives there does not like you. You’ve tried to explain to him that it was an honest mistake, but to this point he’s been completely irrational. Not only did you not know it was his girlfriend, but it wasn’t until after you had mopped up with the pillowcase that you realized it was his bed. At first you were hesitant, but you’ve pounded 12 brews and got your big guy to roll with you. Fuck it – it’s time to crash this fucking party.
It’s hard to believe that a bro would not be welcome somewhere, but unfortunately, even after the life works of such bro-life activists such as John Daly, brocism still exists in society today. Together, bros must rise above this bro-hatred and personally, I can’t think of a better way to do so than crashing a party. Bros fucking love crashing parties nearly as much as Black guys love below average looking White chicks (e.g. Lamar Odom.) So how does a bro act when he finally crashes the party?
Alcohol – In the non-bro world, a party begins with an eVite touting “Come celebrate Tammy’s job promotion!!” Everyone responds, usually with some shitty canned response like, “I’ll raise a glass to that!!” God non-bros want to make me vomit. Anyways, the point is, if you are not invited and still show up, the polite thing to do is bring your own alcohol. Bros are not polite. Why the fuck would you bring sand to the beach? Not only do bros not bring anything to contribute, but they fucking punish everything in sight. Bros immediately crowd around the keg to get to the point where if there is an altercation with the host, they will have no problem telling their big guy to beat his fucking ass. Also, no matter the brand of beer at the party, bros will make comments about how cheap the host is for buying it. This makes girls want to bang you.
Making It Known – While most people will quietly try to blend in to the party, hoping no one realizes they don’t belong, bros fucking tell everyone and their mother. “Yeah, the fucking host of this party hates me because last time I was here I took a dump in his shower” or “This guy’s not happy I’m here since last year when we put his sister's picture and phone number on Craig’s List hookers.” Crashing a party not only is cool as shit, but it makes you dangerous. You know who loves danger? That’s right – fucking slam pieces.
Taking Over – There’s a reason you and your boys are bros: you fucking dominate every place you go. Sooner of later, the bro hater hosting the party is likely to find you, but don’t worry, by this point you have already taken over the entire party. Through well-timed USA #4 chants, convincing slam pieces you actually care about the things they have to say, and showing off your keg stand abilities, everyone at the party has started to worship you. That’s when the bro hater piece of shit tries to kick you out. Wrong fucking move. If you can get the host of the party kicked out of his own party – you sir, are a fucking bro king. The closest we ever got was a couple years ago at a quiet Christmas party we decided to crash. Within an hour we were smashing Christmas ornaments on the kitchen floor and screaming “Mazel Tov!” Within 10 minutes the floor was covered with glass shards and we went back to tending the keg. When we brought some girls back to the kitchen to show them how fucking awesome we were, all the ornaments were cleaned up. We were angry. “Who cleaned this shit up?!?!” my bro's sister screamed. “I did you fucking bitch,” replied the boyfriend of a girl who actually lived in the house. Big mistake. We all got into his face screaming about how you don’t disrespect women (obviously lying) and within a few seconds he was being pushed down the stairs and got fucking kicked out. For cleaning up our smashed ornaments. As one of the hosts cried, we laughed, gave each other high fives, and got back to pounding drinks. God I fucking love being a bro.