Cam Newton Has Bieber Fever

This week’s NFL champ is Auburn grad Cam Newton. 

Speaking of Auburn, I couldn’t be more proud of USA gold medalist Ryan Lochte and his decision to choose Auburn for a pretty ridiculous upset in the LSU vs. Texas A&M game on ESPN College GameDay. He gets confused when he’s dry. Stay hawt Lochte. 

Anyway, Cam Newton gets props this week because I’m hoping it sends him some good karma to stop the Panthers from playing like crap.

Fact, this quarterback actually started off his college career at the University of Florida. Better fact, he was arrested for stealing a laptop from another student. Even better in order to avoid being arrested he threw the laptop out of his dorm window when the cops showed up. Call up the FBI slick rick is making moves.

After Newton’s little run in with the law he transferred to good old Blinn College. Where’s Blinn College you ask? I have no fucking idea. Finally after some good old-fashioned football and keeping his record clean he ended up at Auburn before putting on his big boy pants, winning the 2010 Heisman Trophy, and heading to the NFL.

What’s Cam up to today? Just throwing around the old pigskin and wearing actual burlap sacks aaaaand jamming out to some Justin Bieber…

                         

-Brogina George 

GEMS: To The Face

          My intent is to highlight an NFL player of the week each post however this couldn’t be ignored. Ian Rapoport deserves a little attention ladies and gents. This is good old Ian’s first season with the NFL network, and I have to say I’m impressed. After getting bopped in the face with a football on live television he handles himself like a total pro..

Did we just see that football Ian? Yes. We saw it. 

          I told you to check out the Texans vs. Packers. Betch don’t lie. Anyway on a lighter note here are some ridiculous NFL moments to make Monday feel a little less like a semi-invasive procedure. 

Peace and Blessings.

-Brogina George 

J.J. Watt: Buck as F#*$

         If you have a wiener and own a television chances are you’ve been tuning in to all the NFL action this season. (Especially with this NHL lockout going on…don’t even get me started.) More importantly you’ve probably noticed stud J.J. Watt absolutely tearing it up on the Texans. 

         As a lover of the New York Jets I love to hate this giant piece of man meat after he single handedly delivered us a loss, but that’s not all J.J. delivers. Apparently back in the day he used to be a pizza delivery boy. Saucy. 

         This Wisconsin boy born and raised is the real deal folks. This 6 ft 6in NFL Frankenstein weighs in at about 295 lbs. What else you might ask? This first round pick has mad ups…

         Fucked up right? This cyborg is a fuggin gem. Check out J.J. Watt and the Texans this Sunday at 8:20 PM ET when they take on the goddamn Packers. (Nothing grinds my gears more than those stupid effing foam cheese hats.) 

Peace and blessing sluts.

-Brogina George 

You're Killin' Me Smalls - The Holiday Hangover

There's few feelings that compare to getting to come home for Christmas break after a week of finals fucking your shit up. You're excited to see friends, family, possibly a 30 pound cat who snores so loud he keeps you up at night. Whatever, to each his own. On the way home you realize there are home cooked meals and a giant cozy bed in the near future that can just make a person down right giddy, but once December 25th hits shit tends to go south. 

Spreadin' that holiday cheer

We all get "the holiday hangover." (Props to my main bitch for coming up with that one.) You know that feeling come Christmas day after 2pm once all four of your stupid adult presents are opened and the spirit of Christmas has decided to peace the fuck out. Your family is no longer that sweet, loving, funny group of people you missed so dearly but those inconsiderate fools who keep demanding you not come home stoned out of your mind and eat all their food. Suddenly having the ability to not curse after every other word because seemingly impossible. Then mom and/or dad feels the need to comment every day about how you curse like a sailor, I mean c'mon cut me a fucking break.

Part two of this horrendous holiday switch-a-roo is when your "friends" from high school also become strange and less exciting. I put the word friends in quotes just to clarify that we all see those people from high school we have absolutely zero interest in communicating with and yet are completely fascinated with them because you've been Facebook stalking them all year watching their weight gain progress until they've hit the point of no return, the bad part is everyone has this notion that after high school you're all bff's. False. Back your shit up Shamu, I have enough friends I can't stand I don't need your fat ass taking up more of my newsfeed.

The good news for all you bitches is New Years Eve is on it's way and who doesn't love an excuse to make some horrendous decisions? Especially when drunken debauchery is followed by a list of absolutely ridiculous resolutions about how you're going to be a better person and stop fucking that person who's name you still can't remember. Don't be dumb. You're still a total dick, and chances are when we all crawl back to Oxford you'll dial up whats their name and fuck em like it's 2012.

Peace bitches.

Gems - Blaming It On The A-A-A-Adderall

[Disclaimer: We at Miami of Brohio do not condone or encourage....fuck it, party on.]  

There's nothing better than the feeling of a new prescription in your hands after what feels like an extremely long, never ending wait. Personally, I rush to the nearest pharmacy like a little kid at a candy store and pop that script straight in their face with a sparkle in my eye and hope in my heart. 

(Just a side note I used to get mine filled at the Miami U pharmacy but that knew me on a first name basis and I felt like it was time we went our separate ways. It wasn't her, it was me. I miss that cheery eyed broad every day of my life, no one filled that pill bottle like she could. Goddamnit.) 

Walking around with a brand new bottle of adderall in your backpack is like walking around with a pot of gold, I'd imagine. Actually lugging around a pot of gold would be fucking terrible so scratch that comparison and just leave it at this; it feels really really fucking good. Like first date sex good. All of you adderall takers, buyers, and sellers know what I'm referring to and for everyone else you're probably a woman's studies major. Ya I just went there and took you with me. Adderall is taken for a plethora of reasons, one of those reasons is NOT sex. Guys and gals if you're looking to bang bang I recommend you stay far away from this shit. Girls generally don't want anyone speaking to them let alone touching them and it seems to be the dick's kryptonite. 

(Another side note..any girl who gets legit mad at her boyfriend, fuck buddy, etc. for not getting that sail at full mast after popping some adderall should be kicked straight in the baby maker. That's just how I feel about that.)

Partying on this magical, mystical drug allows for hours of endless fun followed by the most extreme and horrifying hang over of your life. Once taken give adderall about 20 minutes, unleash what will ultimately be the biggest dump of your life, and finalize the process by pounding beers. You'll feel like goddamn Ke$ha and there's fucking glitter on the floor or whatever that bitch rambles about. The inevitable is a black out, chances are you will remember absolutely nothing and once you do wake up with a dragon of a hangover you'll get to enjoy a fun game of Nancy Drew. Where am I? Who are you? Where are my clothes? Why are my shoes covered in mud? I went to what bar? I texted them WHAT? It really just progressively gets more fun, and by fun I mean horrifying and shameful. 

Am I saying I'm addicted to adderall? No, I'm merely saying I'm a hug fan of it. HUGE fan. Besides the sweating, irritability, constant bowel movements, and inability to eat anything without gagging it's a gem. Let's just get real kiddos it's time we started blaming it on the A-A-A-Adderall. 

peace out bitches. 

-Brogina George

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Ding Dong the Bitch is Back.

          I know I've been fairly off the radar since heading off to Ireland to be a professional at life but worry not my little skanks, the bitch is back. After trudging drunkenly through Ginger Island for the last three months I've realized how much I miss the land of the brave and more specifically Oxvegas. What have I been missing specifically you ask? (If you didn't ask quite frankly I don't give a fuck you're going to read what I have to say and you're going to like it.)

Ding, Dong, the Bitch is Back. 

1. Townies: Having a population of toothless individuals to boost your self confidence on a regular basis is a gift. I've learned to truly appreciate our creepy little townie community, plus they're slightly less aggressive than Ireland townies also referred to as gypsies..they're real, and they're horrifying. Fun fact, there is a real life gypsy king and unfortunately he wouldn't lend me his tears. 

2. Shenanigans: I rely quite heavily on the idiocy of my peers at Miami to keep me entertained. Going throughout life for the last ninety days without a Police Beat has been northing short of traumatic. 

3. McCullough-Hyde aka Mc Kill em and Hide em: Maybe this is just me, but I miss the hospitable staff of McCullough-Hide hospital. I would imagine since I provide them with drunken entertainment at least once every three months the nurses are probably assuming I've gone and drank myself to death..or something less depressing. Luckily Halloween is coming up so there's still time for me to make an appearance. Stumbling into the hospy dressed up in some sort of whore-like attire should probably do the trick. 

4. King Lib: Ohhh yes, I miss this place. I can't wait to frequent King Library strictly for socializing purposes. I can't tell you the last time I actually did work in this place but fuck serve me up a 500 calorie Starbucks mocha (Ya..they are actually 500 calories in those so remember that ladies next time you're guzzling one down and thinking "oh my goddd i like totes can't lose any weight" It's because you're basically drinking lard) and I'll sit there all damn day pretending to do work.

          Heed my warning..be careful bitches because I'm coming back, and I'm ready to rant my ass off. So next time you decide to take a drunken tumble down the stairs at brick street and cry about it just remember..I'm probably 1. at the bar taking a starry night shot, laughing at you, and judging you mercilessly and 2. going to write about it and make you sound about a thousand times worse than actuality. So stay pretty Miami.

Babe in Broland: Numero Uno - That's Irish, Right?

         How's Oxford, bitches? I wouldn't know because I'm out in good ol' ireland properly fucking shit up. Truth be told I had no idea of what the hell I was doing when I flew over here, it was more of a "Hey this sounds a shit ton better than sitting in classes I've already failed" type situation, oh and being suspended based on my 0.46 GPA last semester gave me that extra motivation I needed. Who said being completely useless academically was a bad thing? (Sweet Jesus bless my soul if either of my parents read this.)

So here's a little teaser of the shit I've been dealing with once I got to Ireland..

No, but seriously....

          Side note: I'm going to do you all a favor and skip over the pre-boarding the plane hysterics that took place for a solid four days straight. It's safe to say I'm no longer welcome in any Target location located on the east coast after I was laying over my shopping cart weeping like a child screaming to my mother that the Irish were planning on harvesting my organs immediately upon my arrival. Packing also consisted of me throwing shit around my room having consistent hissy fits and mental breakdowns..traveling alone internationally for the first time is super fun..(please note my sarcasm.) Oh and just to further explain the conversation that occurred in Target, after I was done rambling about my organs being harvested my mother comforted me by stating. "Tell them you get kidney stones, and your liver is shit. No one will want to harvest crap out of you." Thanks Ma, you're a real gemstone. 

         1. There will always be that one fucking creep in the bar that just won't leave you and your friends alone. There will also always be that one forty something year old lady who somehow managed to defy gravity and shove at least a third of her skin rolls into the tightest dress she could find at the local Salvation Army (or whatever the European equivalent is.)

          2. Despite what people say American's are viewed as either A) rich, skinny, tan, and ignorant or B) fat, disgusting, plaid wearing hillbillies, and still ignorant. Luckily I managed to use the word "y'all" one of my first days here and have been pegged as option B. Awesome. 

         3. People here are nicer, end of story. We are seriously some kinds of assholes compared to these people. They're hard working, polite, honest, and genuinely amazing..going back to Oxford is going to be an open palm slap right in the face. Oh and to add insult to injury they rarely curse which has been a blast for me..I'm really racking up the ignorant hillbilly points. 

          4. It rains, every fucking day, and good luck finding a damn tanning both. The only one I could find on google maps (yes..I'm that desperate, shut the hell up) was called "Wow Brown." Racist? Perhaps a bit, I'm not entirely sure yet. 

         5. I am proud to say I have successfully kept up with or out drank everyone who has gotten hammered drunk with me. What can I say, maybe it's the Adderall I pop prior to getting my drink on that keeps me running on all cylinders, or maybe it's purely my devotion for being an Amurican. Who knows, I'm not God. But, until this conundrum is solved I'll continue to get straight up sloppy and yell shit like "GOD BLESS AMURICA!" and "YEE HAW!" just to solidify the fact that I am in fact from the United States of America. 

Peace out bitches. 

Look Fresh With Release Clothing Co.

Summertime is the fucking best. It's that just that simple. But enjoying all of the outdoor activities is pretty difficult when your effing corneas are bleeding thanks to good old mister sun being on full blast. Plus let's be real here no one wants to be "that guy" who totally fucks up a really intense game of beach v with the bro's merely because there was a lack of proper eye wear. I hate that guy. So what's a bro to do? Buy some bitchen shades, obviously.

Luckily some brilliant gents from our very own Miami Ohio created a solution that ensures the highest quality without you spending all that hard earned lettuce (or in my case the rent money my parents so kindly sent me).

Release Clothing Co. is a Miami University of Ohio based company fucking blowing up the spot right out of Oxford, Ohio. So to get the low down on these glasses that will have you and your brosephs looking fresh to death I got my interview on.

I'm sure everyone is pretty curious to know a little about these Miami Ohio studs so here's some background info..

"The company was started by 3 Miami Students. This is something we have always wanted to do. The three of us have gone through many business ventures and learning what it really takes to make something amazing. This is one of the ventures that really started to grow quickly, so it kept us together even more. We will be seniors this year. We were all hanging out in grade school and the friendship stayed strong until now. We were born to do this kind of thing, and it took a lot of trial and error with other ideas between the three of us to finally find something like this."

Next I had to ask where they wizarded up the name Release Clothing Co. Mostly because it's pretty fucking cool.

"On the weekends we would always say that it's time to "Release our inner Beast," because of how hard the school week was with class. Releasing our inner beast turned into not something wild and crazy, but more of Releasing our inner selves that society sometimes forces to stay in, Releasing our inner most desires to do something great and change the world no matter who tries to stop us. So that is how we came up with Release. Release and let go, do what you want to do, do what you love, achieve anything."

Ya I've released my inner beast alright. But what makes these glasses special? What separates Release Clothing Co. from the competition?

"Besides the colors, and differing styles (which continue to grow by the week), we offer something special that some companies do not. When you buy a pair of Release Sunglasses, we actually develop a feeling of caring for you. You buy a pair, and you help us grow our business, so in turn we feel that we owe you a thank you. The thank you will come when we will randomly send you a pair of new shades if we haven't heard from you in a while. The thank you is our return policy, free shipping, and desire to make sure every single one of our customers sees life in a new, and better way. It's not about the sunglasses, it's about what they stand for. Seriously. And if they ever break, you can call us and we will pick up the phone (the owners of the company will pick up the phone) and make sure you get a new pair."
I've had boyfriends who pay less attention to me than this. Not only do I clearly need to buy a pair of these sunglasses, I also may want to reevaluate my life choices, shit. I can only imagine between partying and bullshit there would have to be something really important doing the motivating. So what was your motivation?

"Everyone loves sunglasses. Especially Miami kids. So we thought, what can we do to show everyone our vision of life? What can we do to inspire others and let people know that they should follow their dreams? Affordable sunglasses, that are durable and will last, with our logo on them. This is something we thought of that would allow us to really push our vision to all. People will wear our sunglasses and know they say RELEASE on the side of them. Release? Release yourself from anything in life that holds you back, take on your wildest dreams, let nothing stop you. Release is simply a reminder to do what you love. Sunglasses were the perfect product to let people see our 'vision.'"

Miami kids do love their sunglasses that's for damn sure. Sorry Ray Bans looks like there's a new boy in town and he just Released all over your overpriced ass. I have to know though, what's next? What's in store for the future of RCC?

"The sunglasses we have now are nothing compared to what's coming. That's all I gotta say. Of course we will always carry our original sunglasses, but the quality is about to take a jump for the better."

The good news is the sun never sets on a bad ass, so I'll be more than happy to spend my parents money on some fresh ass shades. But being the selfish bitch that I am I had to ask if I could snag a discount for the brahs at Brohio and myself (but mostly for me).

"Let me know which glasses you want and you can get them all half off!"

I think, I love you.

That's the ish so get on http://releasesunglasses.com/index.html and start checking out the goods. Not only are these sunglasses awesome they're also a perfect way to get the parentals to give into the purchase. "But mom/dad I just want to support a fellow Miami University student, I'm being loyal." Who the fuck is going to say no to that one? Plus, it’s true.

Make sure you stay connected for the latest updates and deals..

Twitter: http://twitter.com/#!/releaseclothing/
Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/releaseclothing
Vimeo: http://vimeo.com/user6958678

I'll leave you with the life changing words of Corey Heart, “I wear my sunglasses at night.”

Texts From Uptown - #TFU

[TFU]: 

         We've all done it. You're uptown at Pachinko's or New Bar or Brick for karaoke or 90's night and are a couple too many (not enough?) drinks in and your phone is suddenly in your hand and shit just happens. You text the right person, the wrong person, fucking every person in your contacts. Looking back the next morning can be painful or hilarious but either way your humiliation can be everyone else's entertainment. We'll obviously post our embarrassing Texts From Uptown but we want to hear from the rest of Oxford so submit your texts via twitter by mentioning @MiamiofBrohio and #TFU and/or #TextsFromUptown or shoot us an email at miamiofbrohio@gmail.com. We want to see the Texts From Uptown in all their misspelled, belligerent glory. 


         And without further ado, here are some of the gems me and the intern Brogina George have been tweeting about, not in conversational order. (No text was altered or grammatically fixed in any way.) 


Brogina George: So fucked hahaha i'm picking up quarters off brick street's floor for quarters for laundry (jesus christ, intern, we might pay you if you're that desperate. just kidding, we're not paying you.) 


Don Vito Broleone: haha getti g too drunk happens to the best of us. and by that i mean it happened to me tonight and im the best of us. (i know nothing but the truth.) 


DVB: blackout was three hours ago. im like supernova blackhole antimatter-out. (I have no explanation for why I got that nerdy while I was blackout. I guess im a pocket Einstein? Go with it.)


DVB: girls are hot messes. im a fucking natural disaster. (Like I said, I know nothing but the truth.) 


BG: hahahah word. fuck im about to make some sub par social decisions. fucking hormones christ....i might as well be a dude (Well, Brogina, you do write for Brohio so who knows. But easy, keep it in your pants. Jesus.) 

You Crazy Kids.

All the folks trapped here in glamorous Oxford for the summer recently had the pleasure of taking a glance into the future during good old Miami University of Ohio Alumni Weekend. And let me tell you something, besides having the ability to shit your pants and people finding it socially acceptable we don't have too much to look forward to. Alumni weekend is a great time to visit your old stomping grounds while reliving some amazing memories with your pals. It's also apparently a hall pass to act like a total fucking lunatic. Maybe it's the rush of getting driven around in those totally dope Miami golf carts during the scheduled MU activities during the day that makes miami alumnus lose their goddamn minds. Or maybe it's just that one eighth of a sugary alcoholic drink you and your buddies started nursing at 8PM interacting poorly with your shingles meds, I don't know I'm not a learn-ed doctor. What I do know is there's a better chance of seeing Prez-dawg Hodge stumbling down high street waving a bottle of Kamchatka over his head belting Alice Cooper's "School's Out" than catching a gentleman alumni escorting a young miss back to her house in Oxford for some late night wine and a bit of light jazz.

And as much as it pains me to admit this, I know it's not just the men creeping around Oxford once alumni weekend rolls around. Ladies, you're giving women all over the country a bad fucking name. You may have spent your money on some lipo, rock hard boobies, and giant twizzler lips (see: http://www.urbandictionary.com/define.php?term=Twizzlers%20lips&defid=3249486 for a definition if you need it Rainman) and just because you spend hours at the gym doing kickbox-yogallatis-class or whatever the fuck it's called to preserve what's left of your youth doesn't necessarily qualify you for the cougar of the year award. I've seen one too many fizzled out women wandering around uptown looking like a close relative of the fucking Crypt Keeper.

Yes, you may have been a keg crushing boss hog 24 year old fifth year back in '58 but now my friend you're a perfect candidate for the Denny's Over 50 part of the menu. It's also safe to say no one gives a shit if you were the hottest cheerleader back when Lyndon Johnson was president and we were still known as the big, bad (and slightly racist) RedSkins. The emotional sting of having that heavy truth unloaded on your ass must be similar to your most recent colonoscopy but it needed to be said. Regardless of how totally rad you were in college once you start developing liver spots it's time to put down the mind probe and retire nicknames like Beast, Worm, and Bulldog.

Don't get me wrong, I am well aware that I'll be wandering the streets of Oxford 40 years from now looking like a wax figurine version of myself, ripping Starry Night shots in Brick St., and attempting to pick up some young stud muffin just to prove "I still got it" but until then I'm recommending to college alumni worldwide slowly remove yourself from your college hang out and go slap on a cardigan because it's 5pm and although it's happy hour for all us twenty somethings, it's your supper time bitch.

Go Hard In The Plank

Planking (verb):

Not to be confused with Plank (exercise).

The lying down game (also known as planking, or face downs) is an activity, popular in Asia and Australia, consisting of lying face down in an unusual or incongruous* location. The hands must touch the sides of the body, and having a photograph of the participant taken and posted on the Internet is an integral part of the game. Players compete to find the most unusual and original location in which to play. The location should also be as public as possible, and as many people as possible should be involved.

*I have no fucking idea what this word means.

Before I begin I'd like to thank Wikipedia for clarifying that planking isn't the same as the abdominal exercise referred to as a plank, and if there was a time span that exceeded a minute where you honestly thought I would take the time to write about an ab workout. Suck it. I would never voluntarily endorse exercise unless it has something to do with being heavily intoxicated, and even then I'd be hesitant.

I would love to tell you that planking is stupid and call everyone who even thinks about taking the time to set this up a douche bag, but I too am a planker and I’m proud. Besides looking like a neglected summertime peach all covered in bruises it’s fucking hysterical. It's all about the technique. The best planks require superb balance and a lot of free time. All that’s left is adding a cooky public backdrop and you've got yourself a game changer ladies and gentlemen.

With the economy still being in the shitter and a general lack of activities Oxford, OH the folks of 45056 are embracing planking as some good wholesome fun. At least until some drunk dick head tries to plank on those completely useless stone animals on High St. that half naked towny children crawl all over, takes a tumble Scarlet style, and causes a fucking scene. But until that day I whole heartedly give my support to the planking community. Plank hard and plank often motha fuckas.

It's not all fun and games though. This news crew encourages you not to plank from a seventh floor balcony because if you fall you will die..

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tRHnTFesv7c&feature=player_embedded

As for planking thus far in Oxford here's a little visual snack to tide you over:

Just to get everyone in the planking spirit here's a link to pictures of some serious planking vets..

http://www.stumbleupon.com/su/9x9Hiy/www.geekosystem.com/best-planking-pictures/2/

(I'd also like to clarify on behalf of the Miami of Brohio crew we do not condone planking. So if you get injured while attempting to plank don't you go running around putting that evil on us, I'm not paying for shit.)

Intern Abroad: Indy 500

          Our intern Brogina George was in attendance for the 100th anniversary of the Indianapolis 500 and was probably sober for about none of it. Wordplay aside, here's the first Intern Abroad (get it, she's a chick). Real pictures from the jungle that is the infield at the Indy5. These are real people, not shopped and better than peopleofwalmart.com. Some of the most beautiful (it's in the eye of the beholder, obviously) people in the world gather on the grass of the infield in their Sunday best (jorts, flannel cutoffs, American themed everything) to enjoy the truly majestic and historical event that is the legendary Indianapolis 500. You thought the Preakness infield looked like a good time? Kegasus has nothing on the greatest spectacle in racing drinking. 

Brogina was greeted with this as soon as she arrived. What a gorgeous view.

Is that a fucking cocoon? Yes. 

Redneck (b)Romance 

Let ya freak flag fly. 

The only hybrid you'll see at the Indianapolis Motor Speedway.
Leave your god damn Prius at home, hippie. 

Man, You're Like School During the Summer. No Class.

You’re sitting around reminiscing with buddies from home wondering what you guys..or y’all (fucking hillbillies) should do this summer, and where you should go. Well. “I’ll tell ya where we’ll go. Someplace warm. A place where the beer flows like wine. Where beautiful women instinctively flock like salmon of Capistrano. I’m talkin ‘bout a little place called..As-pen.” What’s the next best thing to Aspen you’re wondering? Fucking Oxford, Ohio.

Somewhere in between the townies scouring the sides of the road for left over furniture..

(I’m going to be completely honest here and admit I may have taken part in some dumpster diving along side some really handsome toothless townies with unidentifiable gender traits. I almost got into a fucking bum fight once or twice over a side table whose top drawer was filled with unopened condoms. Whoever dumped that shit behind their apartment on Sycamore 1. Thank you for the unscathed piece of furniture and 2. I’m sorry you didn’t get laid nearly as often as you had anticipated.)

..the mass quantities of empty beer cans filling the roads, and overly tan rocketeers jogging around you realize it’s fucking summertime.

Unfortunately, it seems like Oxford has its wires crossed with that total skank Mother Nature. This whole 43 degree weather is sort of fucking up my bronzing game. Not that I don’t love waking up and tossing on sweatpants and a sweatshirt, it's just the idea of doing it during the summer makes me dry heave. The good news is, the weather is just another excuse for us to get drunk as fuck and have some summer lovin’. (Hats off to Grease for that reference.)

The bad news, some of us actually need to take our summer classes seriously. I’m not sure if anyone is aware of this but apparently if you don’t attend class, skip 50% of the assignments, miss an exam, and then do nothing to fix the previously listed items professors will actually give you fucking F’s. I know, I was just as shocked as you are, and apparently they don't fucking stand for Fantastic. (I almost used "phenomenal" as my example but I guess we can see how that wouldn't have worked out. Fuck it, I deserve to be in summer school.) Actually I was shocked three times over. Yep, that’s right ladies and gentlemen I managed to do the impossible and fail an entire semester. Alright..I’m being a bit dramatic I did get a C in a 100 level Latin American Studies class.

Lucky for me my mother did me a solid and called Miami, and golly gee whiz what’s this?? They have the class I failed AND a GPA booster available for summer session one! Oh boy oh boy! Looks like the only tall boy I’ll be having this summer is the hottie in my theater class.

I leave you with a simple phrase from my idol Ferris Bueller.

“Life moves pretty fast. If you don’t stop and look around once in a while, you might miss it.”

Peace out fuckers, I have to go do homework.

Bro vs. Ho: Going Up Town

The Ho Perspective:

Going uptown for any girl, whether she be a freshman rookie or a senior veteran, is pretty much voluntarily stepping foot inside a war zone. In addition to wearing slutty little dresses (don't even get me started on the amount of technique necessary to shove your ass into one of those) and heels the female population of Oxford should be strapping on flak jackets and army boots. It's like the very second a beer touches a guys hand they lose their goddamn minds. News flash boys, no one gives a fuck that you can do the Bernie.

Just this weekend I witnessed a guy climb his way over a railing and tumble onto a landing that was a flight of stairs away, twice. Luckily the dickhead was able to ace the landing both times by using his fucking face to break his fall. Way to go Hulk fucking Hogan. I mean, I'll admit it drunken females are no treat a solid 97% of the time but at least we aren't slugging our best friends because he said our fitted looked like shit.

Now don't get me wrong without the men of Miami the uptown scene would be nothing less than a giant clam bake (holy shit was that vulgar my apologies), I'm well aware. I'm merely stating that bros uptown are like puppies on steroids. They'll piss wherever, they don't listen to a damn thing you say, and at the end of the night all they want to do is crawl into bed with you.

P.S.

Yes, we're using you for drinks and no we don't feel bad about it.

--Brogina George

The Bro Perspective:

Going Uptown is one of the favorite pass times of Miami Bro and many of the other students that attend Miami as well. Uptown has become the nostalgic place where many of us had some of our first drunken moments in Oxford, Ohio, yet remains the prime place to party in oxford. Up town is one of the best places in oxford to have fun, meet up with friends and drink something that (dare I say) isn’t a Natty. However, like in all night life scenes on college campuses, there are those girls that get a little bit sloppy and posses a talent for ruining everything.

First off girls, going uptown is not an excuse for you to squeeze in to your junior year prom dress. It simply doesn’t fit any more and it should be retired. Please, you look far more attractive when you wear something (though preferably not pants) that fits.

Next, find different shoes. For most guys, the stuff they taught us in little league still sticks: if it isn’t between the knees and shoulders, it doesn’t matter. You can save us a lot of trouble if we don’t have to carry you or listen to you bitch about how much your feet hurt on the way home.

The old base ball rule applies to the face too. Trust me, there are other things about a foot in the downward direction that we would rather pay attention to, so most of your make up is probably not necessary. I do realize that you want to look nice, so fine wear some make up. But from personal experience, I swear to god that some of you put horse shit on your lips, and then hook up with guys. If you know you taste gross, please stay home.

Finally, nobody likes a mean drunk. If a Bro buys you a drink, you at least owe it to him to not be a bitch, or go home with his best friend, or vomit all over him in the middle of Brick.

Girls, however unfortunate it may be, you have are the determining factor between whether or not going up town is a necessary break from school, or worse that the BMZ 116 final. Do us all a favor and please be on your best behavior.

--Napoleon Bronaparte