It’s Saturday night and you’re fucking hammered. After a long day of bonging beers through vuvuzelas, #4 chanting U-S-A, and arguing with your bros about who was the hottest girl on “Step by Step,” you really don’t think it could get any better. That is until you see her. At the corner of the bar some hot blond chick is staring at you and quite honestly, why the fuck wouldn’t she be? You’re a fucking bro, by definition one of the #109 best looking people on the planet. It shouldn’t be any surprise that she wants buy her One-Way ticket to Pound Town.
As you make your approach and lay down your ‘A’ game aka tell her about the time you scored six goals in the #111 High School Lacrosse championship, there’s one thing that becomes immediately clear: She wants to bang you. Within five minutes you’re out the door and heading back to your #32 Bro Pad for some good old fashioned #24 unprotected sex with a stranger.
You get home and immediately start making out and just as you are ready to put another notch on your belt she stops and says: “I want to take it slow – I just think we should really get to know each other.” You’re fucked. After trying to convince her that you get to know girls best by banging them, she’s not buying it. As a last ditch effort to try to salvage the night, you decide to go against every bro-bone in your body and violate everything you believe in. You go down on her.
After what seems like four hours but in reality is three minutes of her thinking, “Wow, I wonder if we’ll get married!” and you thinking, “This better at least get me a blowjob,” you come up looking for your reward. But instead, you see a look of horror on the girl’s face. “You really need to go to the bathroom!” she screams.
As you enter the bathroom and turn on the light you cry out, “WHAT THE FUCK!!” You look like one of those fucking zombies in “28 Days Later.” After the initial hesitation due to shock you realize what just happened: she just perioded on your fucking face.
At first you try to wash it off, but you’re barely able to turn the water on before you start projectile #48 vomiting all over the bathroom. You start screaming at the girl but she’s already left. After your fourth heave into the toilet, you get a #122 text. It’s from #28 Period Slut. “Sry bout that!! Hope we can still hang out!!” No fucking chance in hell. There’s nothing that she could ever do to come back from this fucking atrocity. After all – you’re a bro and you fucking hate periods.
Periods are one of the biggest fucking bro-haters of all time. Not only does it mean you can’t bang your slam piece, but it’s seriously one of the most disgusting things on the planet. It’s fucking bro-kryptonite. While a bro will readily pop his own dislocated shoulder back in place without hesitation, the mere sight of period blood is enough to make him faint. Now sure there are people out there who will say periods don’t bother them and that they have no problem “riding the Crimson Tide,” but those people are fucking psychopaths and I wouldn’t be surprised if they tortured fucking guinea pigs as children.
I really don’t understand why it’s acceptable for tampons to be advertised on TV and in magazines. It’s fucking obscene. Seriously, what would happen if a company started running commercials for “The Incredible Super-Absorbent Jack-Off Rag?” People would flip their shit. But for some reason it’s cool to have commercials talking about repulsive unnatural shit like “heavy flow?”
Unfortunately, we live in a Bro-partheid World and sadly periods aren’t going away anytime soon. As bros, we’re not like fucking #89 Hipsters who bitch and moan about pointless shit like Health Care reform, #57 Oil Spills, or how much we hate our parents – we offer fucking solutions. While it would be preferable for bros that girls never leave the house while on their period, we realize this is a bit harsh. Since bros are compassionate I offer this compromise: Any girl on their period should be required to wear a giant “P” on their chest to let all bros know that, “I’m on my period – talking to me is a waste of time.” And for all you fucking Femi-nazis out there complaining that this would be setting the Women’s Movement back thousands of years, I have one thing to say: Fuck You. If you honestly think that wearing a letter on your chest broadcasting that you’re on your fucking period is degrading, then it’s about time you get off your fucking high horse. Not only would this save so much time, but it would avoid any awkward, “Umm, It’s that time of the month,” conversations later on when bros are trying to bang you. Talk about a win-win!
The World is a fucked up place. There are haters around every corner trying to punish bros just for being bros. There’s always questions about who a bro should trust. While I’ll never trust anyone that bleeds for a week straight every month and doesn’t die, there’s one group of people that I’ll always trust: my bros. Be safe. Be prepared. Avoid the period.