It’s Tuesday morning. For the first time all semester, you’re up before one. But unlike some fucking bro-hater the reason you’re up isn’t to go to class. You want to see the carnage. Last night got a little fucking crazy. After four solid hours of taking shots and debating whether the 300 pound redneck waitress had ever seen a penis that wasn’t her incestuous father’s, one of your bros decided it would be a good idea to challenge some big ass black dude to a break dancing contest. Everything was going well until Round 3 where your bro had to compensate for his whiteness and obvious break dancing disadvantage by pulling of the impossible: sliding across the floor using ONLY the top of his head. It was a bold move – and he nearly pulled that shit off. Much like most shitty bars – this particular establishment had a shitload of broken glass all over the fucking floor, which lodged itself into your bro’s scalp. It was hard to tell if he didn’t want to lose the contest or if he was just too drunk to feel feelings, but god damn it if he didn’t want to finish that competition. He hopped up from the floor only to meet his opponent’s glare or horror and disbelief. Your bro asked, “What the fuck is wrong with you? Did Tyler Perry die or something?” That’s when he finally felt the blood streaming down his face. After laughing maniacally and screaming “I’M HAVING A HEAD PERIOD!!!” for about 20 minutes, you and your bros #83 turned against every bro bone in your body and sent him to the hospital.
For some reason the bro-haters at the hospital kept him all night. Some bullshit about “hospital policy” and that they were “scared for his mental well-being” or something. You don’t give a fuck. Only thing you care about is seeing that fucking scar on his head. As your bro finally gets home just in time to watch some new hilarious Youtube clip you found, he stops everyone and demands to be heard.
“Bros – last night was one of the craziest times of my fucking life. When you are lying in that hospital bed bleeding all over the bed because of a drunken break-dancing accident, you really learn a lot about yourself. About life. About being a hero. But honestly, if there’s one thing I can take away from this experience it’s this: dudes, nurses are fucking hot as shit.”
As you and your bros all #13 high five each other and start #4 chanting “NUR-SES! NUR-SES!” you all immediately know what has to be done. This weekend it’s time to celebrate your bro’s release from the hospital the only way you know how: it’s time for a “Bro-B-GYNs and Naughty Nurses” party. Bros fucking love theme parties.
To be honest, a bro doesn’t need anything to party other than a cold #19 keg, a couple bros, and some slam pieces to bang. Bros definitely don’t need decorations or any shit like that to have a good time. But every once in a while bros like to mix shit up. That’s where theme parties come into the picture. Now, when I say theme parties I’m not talking about some bullshit like, “everyone get dressed up as your favorite character from ‘Fern Gully’ and come reenact the movie!” And bros definitely don’t have anything to do with any science fiction type “theme parties.” As a matter of fact, if you have even been in a debate involving Star Trek and Star Wars, please leave this website and get back to saving your virginity for marriage. Bros have practical theme parties, like “Anything but Clothes,” “Golf Pros and Tennis Hos” or parties making fun of lesser life forms, like a #100 Guido theme. While you’ll never see a bro send out an evite with some Sex and the City quote inviting you over for a “Few Martini’s with the Girls,” you will see this shit at a bro’s theme party.
Specialty Drinks – Over the past several months we have developed a pretty constant theme: drinking is fucking awesome. But much like a bro could never be expected to settle for just one woman, he’s got to have some variety in what he drinks. While bros fucking love pounding Natty and Bud Light, it’s nice every once in awhile to kick back with a White Russian, and what better place to do that than at a “Big Lebowski” party? While girls and fucking bro-haters might “decorate” their party with balloons and streamers, bros know the only thing they need to make their party legit is special drinks and whatever shit that might be lying around the house that you #2 stole last night.
Girls in Slutty Outfits – Perhaps the only group of people in the world who love theme parties more than bros is the slam pieces that are invited to them. While #86 Halloween is truly the only day that it is socially acceptable for a girl to wear next to nothing and claim to be “in costume,” Theme Parties come in a close second. Much like on Halloween, no matter what the theme of the party, girls will find a way to make that shit slutty as hell. For example, one time I went to a “Barn” party thinking everyone would be dressed up like farmers and shit, only to find out all the girls there decided they would cut up their $200 jeans to give themselves Daisy Dukes just to show off the fact that they eliminated their cellulite over the Winter. While it was nice to see those legs in high heels, it really is a shame that with all our technological advances scientists haven’t developed a treadmill for girls’ faces. If that shit’s not in the new health care plan, it fucking should be.
When making your guest list, it’s important for bros to realize that some fat ugly girls might try to sneak into your party dressed just as slutty as the hot ones. The last thing you need is some fat bitch showing up to your “Superheroes” theme party stuffed into a Catwoman suit. If she does happen to find her way into the party, make sure she knows she’s not welcome by chasing her around the house attempting to “save the pet population” by using your Superhuman powers to spay her. If she #44 cries and yells at you asking why you’re such an asshole, just respond, “Ask Bob Barker, bitch.”
For all you fucking bro-haters out there saying that bros are selfish and don’t care about anyone but themselves, I ask you to look no further to a Theme Party. Bros realize there is nothing a girl loves to do more than dress up as slutty as humanly possible. It’s in their DNA.
Throw the Theme Party. Let them be sluts. You’re welcome, ladies.