June 2: Brociety

We are a family. A group of individuals with similar beliefs and values, we support one another through thick and thin. We may have different backgrounds and upbringings, but we are still one and the same. If you aren't a part of our clique, you are an outsider and will be treated as one. We are an unorganized fraternity of brothers. We are Bros.

Many have asked and inquired about our niche, but being a member is not as easy as one might think. There are rules that one must follow. Traditions one must respect. In order to be a Bro in our exclusive society, one must know and wear the many facets of the culture. Tight-fitting Ed Hardy shirts, Affliction hats with flat brims, and Diesel jeans with designed wear and tear. Whatever the article of clothing, it must be ridiculously expensive and it must proudly and boldly display the brand.

We drive black or white lifted trucks. We must not get more than ten miles to the gallon. We decorate our babies with naked angelic and devilish women decals. We cover our back rear windows with the Famous Stars and Straps F and our license plates are framed with intelligent quotes like, "Horn Broken, Watch for Finger."

To be a Bro, one must look like a Bro. That means spiked hair with frosted tips. It means arms the size of tree trunks and chests so inflated they could pop. Protein, bench press, protein, curls, and more protein. A Bro must not concern himself with his legs. The Diesel and Lucky brand jeans are there to cover the lack of definition and overall muscle in our quadriceps and hamstrings. If a Bro is insistent in wearing shorts, he must have Mom and Dad pay for calf implants with earnings from their car dealerships or construction companies.

Aside from a Bro's love of brand recognition and protein powder, beer is essential. Natural Light, Keystone Light, and Coors Light are a Bro's best friend at a party. When we're not involved in the discussion of our maximum bench press, we're filling our red cup with more beer. One must know how to tap a keg. One must partake in the traditional keg stand and shotgun ritual. Skills in Beer Pong, Quarters, Kings, and Flip Cup are essential. One will never achieve Bro status until he attempts to crush an empty can on his forehead. Only the elite will succeed.

We race dirt bikes and quads. We attend monster truck rallies and talk about wakeboarding. We drink beer and work out. We do these things for one purpose and one purpose only; to pick up chicks. A Bro is not interested in a committed relationship. He is not interested in hearing what a chick has to say. Our goal with every chick is to get inside her pants. End of story. This intention often forces us into committed relationships, but we will not let it deter us from our main objective. We will continue to sleep with as many chicks as we can until we get caught.

We are a family. We are a fraternity. We're loud and obnoxious. Moronic and dimwitted. We swear, smoke, drink, and party. We chase tail and lift weights. We are a group of individuals that will stop at nothing until we have gone all the way with a broad. We are the Brociety.