A bro’s time is fucking precious. Bros are the most important, smartest, and #109 best looking people on the planet and therefore should never be taken for granted. Sure there’s no actual rate on a bro’s time, but if I had to label it, I would say take whatever the fuck a #83 Doctor makes – and double it. Since a bro’s time is so fucking valuable, there’s no time for the bullshit bro-hater invention called “small talk.” Small talk is basically a way for #80 losers/old women whose only friends are dead to try to get some sort of human contact. Honestly, why the fuck would anyone ever need to waste someone’s time by talking about how much they hate traffic, where they live, or worst of all, “What’s up with this weather??” Bros have more important shit to talk about – like how many slam pieces they’ve banged, #1 how drunk they got last night and most importantly how drunk they’re planning on getting tonight. While these are all pressing issues, there’s one topic that bros across the fucking country agree to be by far the most critical. It creates goats. It creates legends. It makes people fucking #26 hate each other just because they were born 100 miles apart. It makes bros fucking celebrate like they just got triple-teamed by the Dahm triplets. It’s fucking Sports. While “chatting” with some old lady in line at the store for one minute about her fucking grandchildren is a complete waste of time – arguing for hours about whether Henry Rowengardner could strike out a juiced Barry Bonds is fucking priceless. Bros fucking love talking about Sports.
Honestly, what self-respecting guy doesn’t like Sports? I really don’t understand how that shit happens. If you’ve gotten to this point thinking, “Oh fuck yeah, I’m a fucking bro,” then see this and try to make a fucking argument saying some shit like, “You don’t need to like Sports to be a bro,” you’re fucking wrong. Get the fuck off this site now. You know who doesn’t like Sports? #89 Hipsters. That’s because they fucking suck at them and “Sports” to them means bros #pissing on their locker in #111 High School gym class. Serves them right for wearing glasses. In all seriousness though, Sports are more important to this country than fucking Religion. Since bros are the smartest people on the fucking planet, you better believe they know more about Sports than anyone else.
Growing up every bro memorized the Sports page every fucking morning and still, to this day, will grab that shit before they look at any other bullshit newspaper filler, “Entertainment,” “Classifieds,” or “World News.” Bros would rather watch a repeat episode of PTI they watched 30 minutes earlier than fucking “60 Minutes.” Bros always need to stay sharp on current events in the Sports world so they don’t look like a fucking idiot when they’re hanging out with their bros.
Among every group of bros, there’s a hierarchy of Sports Knowledge. There’s always that one guy within the group who knows the most obscure Sports Trivia and can name the Final Four participants from the past 20 years or the last 25 #1 NFL Draft picks. The hierarchy of knowledge starts getting progressively lower until you get to the guy who isn’t that interested in Sports, but acts like he is and does extra research just so he isn’t labeled a fucking bro-hater. A lot of times the bro with no Sports Knowledge sounds more like a fucking girl when he talks about Sports. He’ll drop shit like, “What period is it?” while watching a Football game, or will totally butcher pronouncing someone’s name while acting like he knows what he’s talking about. While it’s truly embarrassing to even be associated with someone like this, the good news is that all you need to do is call him a fucking loser for trying to fit in. Will he try to #121 fight back? He fucking better not – by not knowing shit about Sports, he assumes the role within the group as #117 bitch and deserves anything he fucking gets.
As shocking as it might sound, a bro’s life does not merely revolve around constantly getting fucking hammered and nailing sluts. Bros are fucking Renaissance Men. As the rest of society mindlessly chatters away in their pointless conversations, bros realize what’s really worth talking about. It really doesn’t matter the type of Sport, the players involved, or even the facts – bros fucking know the answer. So if you see me walking down the street, don’t ask me if I think it’s going to fucking rain – I save my breath for when it fucking matter. Let me know when you’re ready to talk about fucking Sports.