These are all real questions that have been asked to me via email/twitter/facebook. If you have a question you’re dying to ask me just send it to AskNYB@gmail.com along with your name (as you would want it to appear on this website, Tony R. for example) and where you’re from.
Where can I send you a naked picture of myself?
Alright, I didn’t actually get this question, but just want to get the ball rolling. Just in case you’ve been too shy to ask, the answer is YES, I am currently accepting naked pictures at either NedsYoungerBrother@gmail.com or AskNYB@gmail.com. Just some ground rules, you have to be 18 (or at least “cross your heart and hope to die” that you're 18 – according to my bros in law school, that shit works in court) AND you have to be hot. NOT cute, HOT. What I mean by that is when a guy describes you to his bros after banging you he doesn’t immediately try to justify it by saying, “I mean, she had a cute face.” None of that shit. I’d rather carve my eyes out like a fucking Jack-o-Lantern than have to look at a naked picture of some fat girl.
One of my bros recently got into a relationship and now all he ever does is hang out with her – we barely ever see him anymore. Just a few weeks ago we were out slaying slam pieces together. How is this possible?
Falling into a “relationship” is like fucking bro quicksand. One minute you and your bros are getting fucked up every night, the next he’s off in fucking relationship-ville painting fucking Easter eggs or making Christmas ornaments or whatever the fuck it is couples do. I feel like this is always how it happens in these stages:
1) You're out getting fucked up when your bro meets some hot slam piece and they enjoy their first date aka drunk sex without knowing each other’s last names.
2) For most bros this shit might end right here, but for some reason he decides to bang her again, which is fine. We’ve all got our fucking nuclear codes tucked away in our phones in case the sum of all fears happens and we get shutout at the bar.
3) At this point, any bro has two options: keep laying pipe until she realizes you don’t give a shit about her or take her on a date. Your bro obviously decided to spend an hour romancing this girl who at one point had sex with a stranger, just because he was a good at grinding. This is the fucking beginning of the end for your bro. Right now you’re fucking Marty McFly and your bro is that picture starting to fade away unless you play “Johnny Be Good.”
4) After their “first date,” there will probably be more since he’s now lost whatever upper hand he had in the relationship. They’ll start to do shit sober. He’ll even be out at the bar with you and do nothing but text with her about bullshit like, what song is playing and how much he fucking misses her. He’ll leave the bar before it closes too and not because he’s getting a BJ in the fucking back alley either like any normal person would do.
5) Pretty soon they’ll fucking label themselves boyfriend and girlfriend – “Nothing’s changed, I’ll still hang out all the time!” That’s what he thinks. Once you’ve defined yourself as some girl’s boyfriend, you’re her fucking property. Want to go out with your bros? That’s a fucking 30-minute conversation. Go out of town for the weekend? 3 day fight or worse, you'll have to go down on her. You’ve got no fucking freedom, so instead of going out with your bros, you’re “staying in to watch a movie!” At this point he’s gone to fucking purgatory. Only you can deliver him to heaven (being a bro) before he sinks to hell (marriage).
Who’s the biggest Bro in Sports?
Tiger Woods. I don’t care what his fucking PR people are saying about how he’s “changed his image” and shit, he’s still the fucking man. No matter how much fucking sex rehab he attends, his texts with that porn star can never be taken awy. Now that he’s free from the shackles of being a husband and father, you can only imagine how many Golden Showers he’s dishing out.
After that, there’s a shitload of bros in soccer over in Europe who fucking love cheating on their model wives, pretty much just because they can. Then there’s Charles Barkley who got pulled over for drinking and driving and told the officer “I was going to drive around the corner and get a blow job” even though he’s married. Rashard Lewis and Delonte West definitely deserve some attention for fucking Lebron James’s loved ones. But here in the US, I have to go with yet another golfer as runner up, John Daly.
Everyone knows John Daly loves to get wasted, I mean there’s a fucking mixed drink named after him. But my favorite JD story comes from a charity event he was appearing at where Daly was called up on stage to sing a song since, not surprisingly he’s a pretty fucking good guitarist. As the story goes, he decided to play, “Knocking on Heaven’s Door,” fucking classic right? Well apparently he must have been throwing back a few too many of his namesakes because as it turned out the charity was for Children with Terminal Cancer. Obviously, the haters were fucking hating on him, but whatever, that shit’s hilarious. Seriously, besides his 6 ex-wives, who doesn’t fucking love John Daly?
So I was looking through your shop and noticed something disturbing – why the fuck is there an XL sized Slam Piece Underwear?? There should only be one size: Small. Please correct this atrocity towards mankind.
This attention to detail is what makes bros the smartest people on the fucking planet. No bullshit, I’ve received multiple emails pointing this out and I’ve told them all the same thing: I would change it if I could. I mean, I guess it’s good for bestiality fanatics who like to put sexy underwear on their elephants or some shit, but for a human woman? I don’t fucking think so. That shit looks even too big for famous fatasses like Kim “my unborn child will be able to seem me bang Moesha’s brother on the internet” Kardashian, but other than that I don’t think big girls need to be trying to look sexy with one of these. You want to try to look hot? How about hopping on a treadmill and dangling a Three Musketeers from your fucking forehead?
Got questions? Email AskNYB@gmail.com