It’s move in day of Freshman year and you’re fucking pumped. After a long ass morning of making your parents carry all your shit to your dorm room, it’s finally time to kick back and start #130 chugging some fucking brew. Before long all the slam pieces in the dorm have sensed there’s a bro in their midst so they rush down to your room so they can get just drunk enough so they can claim they were “wasted” when all the other girls try to label them as a #3 slut for having #131 sex the first night of College. Things are going fucking great, that is until there’s a knock at the door. It’s your roommate. He had been trying to call you all summer long, but you’re a bro, so you obviously didn’t have any time to talk on the fucking phone. As he walks in the room, you wish you had answered his call, because you immediately realize this shit isn’t gonna work out. He’s short, fat as shit, has acne so bad that he looks like fucking Krang from the old school Ninja Turtles cartoons, and worst of all, he’s annoying as shit.
As his parents move him into your room, he won’t shut the fuck up about his fucking Model UN team or the fact he loves to dress up like characters from “Babylon 5.” After talking for 10 minutes about how Japanese animation is BY FAR the best type of animation, he realizes no one’s listening so he yells out, “Perhaps this is a language better suited for you Earth dwellers!!!” and breaks into Klingon. Just as you turn to tell his parents they might as well set up his bed on the couch in the lobby since the Pound Town Express will be making a nightly Midnight ride in your room, his Mom whispers something into his ear. “Oh, alright, Mother!” he yells, grabs a bottle of water, puts something into his mouth, and chugs.
”Wait, what the fuck was that?” you cry out.
“What was what?” loser who’s name you don’t even remember asks.
“What did you just swallow?”
“You mean my Adderall?”
Fucking jackpot. Due to an unanticipated change of heart, you cancel your plan to take a #97 dump in his pillow sack later that night. While he might need those pills to function in his daily life – you need them for a much more important reason – getting fucked up. Let’s just fucking hope he can’t tell the difference between his medication and the Wintergreen Tic Tacs you’re about to replace them with. Bros fucking love un-prescribed prescription medication.
Outside of getting a #122 text message at 3 am from a slam piece saying, “Want 2 hang out?” there’s really nothing that excites a bro more than finding someone who gets prescription medication. I remember my freshman year at William & Mary when we first figured out one kid had a prescription to Adderall. You better fucking believe we pillaged that shit. One Tuesday morning he got his refill and by Tuesday night he had like one pill left. He used to say shit like, “Come on guys, I need these to live!” We’d just tell him he was a loser, then steal his car to go smoke #70 weed on the Parkway. That’s what he got for choosing to have a fucked up brain.
It’s not just Adderall that bros like though, pretty much any pain or mood medication is cool as shit to take recreationally. Anytime someone breaks a bone, bros are the first ones to meet the guy in the hospital. But bros aren’t there to deliver get-well balloons or sign his fucking cast. Bros are there to have three minutes of awkward conversation before dropping a “So, uh, what type of medication they have you on?” A lot of times breaking a bone when you’re wasted is the best thing to ever happen to a bro. Sure the procedure might cost your parents money, but seriously who gives a fuck? If you get a solid pain killer, you can make a fucking fortune selling that shit. The best is when your family members get prescriptions, but they’re all scared they’ll “get addicted” so they don’t even use them. Since bros are conservationists, they don’t want anything going to waste, so you know they find those pills a good home.
Now I can hear you fucking bro-haters complaining already, “Oh my God, NYB!! This is sooo irresponsible! How can you say it’s OK to abuse drugs? Doesn’t the name Crimedog McGruff mean anything to you?” First of all – fuck you. Bros don’t “abuse” drugs. Using prescription drugs to get fucked up is like moving from Standard Definition television to HD – it’s just an enhancement of routine shit. And it’s not like we’re talking about trading 30 minutes of mouth-favors for some fucking Crystal Meth here, we’re talking about PRESCRIPTION medication. Like from a fucking #83 doctor. Sure it’s not technically your prescription, but that’s beside the point. “But people overdose on pain killers all the time!” Fuck off, bros aren’t fucking emo #89 hipsters who hate their parents so they throw on some Indie Rock cassette tape and intentionally overdose just to “cry for help”/get attention. Bros are the smartest people on the fucking planet – you better believe they know their limits.
There comes a time in every bro’s life where he has to face the music. Perhaps the #19 keg’s been kicked or maybe the town’s weed supply is dry. Whatever the case may be, bros don’t curl up in a little ball and cry themselves to sleep like the rest of America would. Bros improvise. When life gives them lemons, bros take those fucking lemons, peg them at losers, and steal their motherfucking prescription medication.