Over the past five months, whenever a bro around the country has been asked, “What are you getting into this weekend?” he’s had two answers. Besides the obvious response of “#1 Getting fucked up,” he’s also quick to say, “Watching football.” It really doesn’t get much better than football season. With pro and college games being played pretty much every day of the week thanks to ESPN’s exploitation of College athletes, there’s always a game on. But, unfortunately, all good things must come to an end. Unless you are like me and a Redskins fan where the off-season is by far the best part of the year (can’t wait to sign Reggie Bush!!!), this Sunday marks the end of the greatest five-month stretch a bro could ever fucking ask for. You better fucking believe that bros aren’t going quietly. It’s time for the grand fucking finale. Bros fucking love Super Bowl Sunday.
Bros know how to watch football. They’ve been doing it better than anyone else since the fucking beginning of time. Bros get together every weekend to watch games, drink a fuckload, and constantly check their iPhone to see how their #62 fantasy football players are doing. Why the fuck would the biggest game of the year be any different? Why the fuck would you ever want to invite a shitload of bro-haters over who don’t know shit about football just so they can tell people at school or work on Monday that they went to a fucking Super Bowl party? Fuck that. When bros have people over for the Super Bowl they don’t send out an eVites three weeks in advance saying shit like, “Come watch the Big Game at mi Casa! Susie has already promised to make her world famous bean dip!” That’s fucking bro-hater talk.
As much as any true bro would just want to watch the Super Bowl with their bros, a keg, and a shitload of wings, it really never works out that way. Somehow bros always find themselves at some “party” where they are forced to sit on a fucking footstool so that some fat bitch can take up half the fucking couch. So what ever is a bro to do? Here’s a couple tips.
Get Fucking Plastered: While everyone else at the party is complaining about having to go to work or school tomorrow, you don’t give a fuck. You’ve got like 12 sick days for the year and you’ve only used like 3 so far. That’s a fucking no brainer. Besides, Super Bowl Sunday is pretty much a fucking National Holiday and I really can’t remember the last National Holiday where I wasn’t drunk. Not getting wasted on a National Holiday is like a slap in the face to our #63 fore fathers, and I will not stand by while anyone does that shit. Also, it really doesn’t get much better than getting obnoxiously wasted around people who are not only not drinking, but are really only at the party because society tells them they have to.
Enjoy the Commercials: Bros fucking hate commercials, and for the most part Super Bowl commercials are no different. Usually they are all built up, but end up being some stupid shit where some Pick-up truck falls in love with a dog or something. However, there are two types of commercials which bros fucking love: Bud Light and GoDaddy. I say Bud Light because pretty much every year their ads are funny as shit. Even though Budweiser is the same fucking company, they must have different ad people. If you think those Budweiser frogs are hilarious or if you and your friends still say, “WASSSSUPPPP!!!” you are not a fucking bro. GoDaddy is the shit because they always have really hot girls ripping each other’s clothes off and to be perfectly honest – it really doesn’t get much better than that.
Teach Girls about Football – Over the years I’ve learned that whenever a girl sits next to you on the couch at a Super Bowl party and tells you that she wants you to “teach me about football,” the only thing she wants to learn about is how well you bang. While this is pretty much a fucking lay-up line, its always fun to push the limits. The last thing a bro wants to do is waste his entire Super Bowl Sunday explaining why a touchdown is worth 6 points, so bros go on the attack. I always like to quiz the prospective slam piece on her current football knowledge, you know, just to see where we stand.
“How many points for a safety?” I’ll ask her.
That’s when I punish her for her wrong answer by announcing to the entire party, “Holy shit how dumb could you be – this girl thinks that safeties are worth 5 points, what are you fucking retarded? No wonder girls couldn’t vote for like 500 years.”
After making retard noises for 10 minutes and about 20 minutes of “End Suffrage Now” chants you will be fucking golden. Not only do you now look smart as shit for knowing something you learned when you were like six years old, but her self esteem is shattered. And who will be there to pick up the pieces after the game? That’s right. You. Sure she might be #44 crying now – but those tears might as well be her train ticket. Destination? Pound Town.
While this Sunday might represent a bittersweet day amongst bros across the country, it doesn’t have to be. By treating Super Bowl Sunday as one of the greatest party days of the year and not the awkward work party that it’s become you’ll truly be able to continue to live the dream. So don’t cry like some illogical slam piece just because she doesn’t know the answer to an easy question. The season might be over, but NFL Draft is right around the corner and that shit’s in Prime Time this year.