Humble Acts of Chivalry

•           After getting recruited for this blog recently, I asked myself what my first blog post should be about.  After a Friday full of binge drinking, the answer made itself quite clear.  This blog is a detailed account of the chivalrous events that took place on Saturday, September 24, 2011 at around 3:00 am.

  
  

            I was at Skippers for most of the night with some bros and a beautiful slam-piece. We all decided to depart when the owner told us it was 2:45 am. Because we had been drinking for the better part of 14 hours, we were all somewhat shit-housed. My bros went to their house in one direction, and I was walking with the slam piece in the other. (Because this blog entry is titled “Humble Acts of Chivalry”, I will stop referring to the slam-piece as ‘slam-piece’. Since I need to protect her identity, I can’t call her by her real name, either. Thus, she will be referred to as ‘White Rihanna’)

  
  

            As we were walking, I was enjoying a cigarette and focusing on walking in a straight line. White Rihanna informed me that she was cold, so I did the heroic thing and offered her my jacket (first act of chivalry). After placing my jacket on her shoulders, the weird shit started happening. Some guy sprinted by us and came damn close to knocking over my sweet White Rihanna. Seconds later another slam-piece… or girl… runs by in her high heels crying and screaming “SOMEBODY STOP HIM! THAT GUY STOLE MY PURSE!”

  
  

            In a matter of seconds, I came up with the following drunken analysis of the situation:

  
  

  1)   Only once in a lifetime will a girl run by screaming “SOMEBODY STOP HIM! THAT GUY STOLE MY PURSE!”

  2)   The guy was short and white. My chances of being able to catch him and not get my ass kicked were at an all time high.

  3)   White Rihanna was watching me.

  4)   I needed to finish my cigarette.

  5)   WWJD

  
  

          Not wasting another second on drunkenly analyzing the situation, I bolted after the purse-stealing douche (cigarette in hand). I quickly passed the damsel who was helplessly running in her high heels. I was gaining ground on the bad guy as we were running down Poplar. In fact, I felt like I was running the fastest I had ever run. However, the only reason I was running so seemingly fast was because we were running down hill, much to my dismay. When the bad guy turned into an alley, I was ten feet behind him. However now we were on flat ground, and my out of shape ass was starting to lose ground. So with the deepest, mightiest voice I could muster, I shouted a mighty “HEY!” (I sounded a lot like this guy).  The thief looked behind him and realized that one chivalrous son of a bitch was dead on his heels, so he threw the purse on the ground and kept running. I felt like fucking batman.

  
  

  

  skills.  

            When the girl who was mugged turned the corner and trotted up to her purse, I knew what was going to happen. She was going to kiss me on the cheek and ask how she could ever repay me. To which I would reply something like “Don’t worry about it ma’am. I’m here to serve fucking justice”

  
  

            However, what she actually said to me was “Oh my God, I can’t believe I caught that guy.” This caught me off-guard.  When I awkwardly sat there out of breath, she explained to me “I mean, I ran track in high school, but I can’t believe I caught up to him and got him to throw my purse down.” I thought she was making a joke. When I asked if she was kidding, she did not reply and started walking away. This chick was not about to deny my claim to the coolest thing I have ever done.

  
  

            I caught up to her and enlightened her dumb ass. “First off, lady, there were at least fifteen people standing around when you came by screaming, but I was the only one to help you! That alone deserves thanks! But more importantly, I caught up to the bastard and got him to throw the purse on the ground. Your ass didn’t do shit! And you have the balls to claim that YOU caught him? Really Lady? REALLY?”

  
  

            This took her off guard. She asked me “Well do you want, like, money, or something?” This really pissed me off. I wondered if Batman ever helped someone who was stupid enough to believe that they stopped the Joker. Did Batman ever save someone who afterwards asked him if he wanted ‘like, money, or something’?

  
  

           I told her that she was supposed to kiss me on the cheek. That weirded the shit out of her, and she left. I felt like someone kicked me in the balls. I went back to White Rihanna and tried to explain to her everything that happened, thinking that maybe she would appreciate my heroic deed. But as I explained what happened, she repeatedly asked me “Wait, why did you leave me alone?” (She was obliterated). So I made sure she got home. Then I went to my house. Then I watched the new Star Trek movie.

  
  

            In conclusion, if any of you know who the slam-piece that got her purse stolen was, make her read this blog post. When she gets done reading, punch her in the face. Tell her I sent you.
• -Keyser Broze 

Broner Jams - Volume 1

         So Miami, the time has come you to all hear some good music for once in your life. Sites like Fratmusic.com and Frattybeatz.com are just flinging regurgitated bass lines at you and convincing you that it is worth your time listening to and that is not the case. Sure dubstep and techno are nice to throw on at a party every so often but once I hear a remix of a remix of a motherfucking remix, I get tired of the same sounds every night. Are you following my brethren?  From now on each week you can come on to this very blog and discover songs of all genres that will make your already awesome lives here at Miami that much better. Don’t expect to just hear about pussy, money, and drugs. Yes there will be plenty of that, but some of the stuff may be out of your normal listening habits. Trust me bros, give it all a chance because the Notorious B.R.O would not lie to you. 


          This week I want to introduce you all to a up and coming rapper out of Seattle, Washington. Macklemore is a guy that we can pretty much all relate to. He’s just a normal looking white dude, probably played lacrosse at some point in his life, and enjoys tacos? What’s not to love? Anyways, he has been breaking into the rap game in the last year and has started to gain quite the following out west but has yet to really become popular in the Midwest and further east. He typically rhymes about actual problems or events he has experienced. He works with this other dude named Ryan Lewis who creates some dirty beats to go along with Mack’s flow. This most recent song goes pretty damn hard and I have been playing it all summer. I better hear this when I walk around campus now this year… 
“Can’t Hold Us”

 
         Another one by Macklemore is the song “Wings” where he puts together a nice mellow tune about something all bros know and love…. Nikes. His story of Nike told through his rhymes is something to behold. Trust me, this one will get you fired up. 
“Wings”

          The best part about these awesome songs that I give to you all is the free download associated with it so be on the lookout for those because you will definitely want to add these to your collection. 
          If you are looking for some good study music, or just something to listen to while you chill and play Fifa (you can get your hands on Fifa 12 now), I recommend that you check out this band known as Blind Pilot. Their new album drops soon but you can listen to it all if you follow the link below. Give it a listen HERE and let me know what you think. 




You stay classy, Oxford.


-Notorious B.R.O

Style: No Homo - How to Deal with the Fucking Rain

Bros,

            As you read this article, it is either Monday or Tuesday; regardless, another wonderful weekend full of aggressive drinking and the occasional cracking of a textbook has turned into the first days of another sluggish week.

            This week has been made even more sluggish by the rain and wind prevalent around our lovely Oxford. While moseying to class today, I was repeatedly taken aback by the sheer number of bros sporting improper footwear on such a blustery day. We, as bros, are some of society’s finest specimens; we pride ourselves on our ability to excel in any situation while also being noticed.

            The one thing I noticed, however, was not over-the-top peacocking and all around awesomeness, yet soggy dogs—a lot of them. Bros and broettes walked past me in squishy Sperrys and turgid tennis shoes. Each situation is hardly ideal.

            With that being said, naturally, Sandy Brofax would make a good recommendation as to the perfect fall shoe … aaaaand, here I am! Your answer? The L.L. Bean Bean Boot Moccasin. An American classic, the Bean Boot Moc is appropriate for those cloudy fall days, that messy tailgate, that trip to CJ’s. A combination of a rubber bottom and leather upper, they give you the brilliance of boots with the appearance of sweet kicks. While bros primarily opt for the standard original Bean Boot, mocs are a good choice, especially in this fickle weather.

            So, retire the Sperrys for the sunny day; wear your tennis shoes when you get swole at the Rec. Bean Mocs ‘til death.

-Sandy Brofax 

If L.L.Bean is good enough for the MLB, it is good enough for you, bro. 

You're Killin' Me Smalls - Weather

          As you've all noticed, its been slightly colder than the usual eighty fucking five degree weather here lately....and its all I'm fucking hearing about. First it was jubilant, celebratory tweets, stati and conversation about fall, yoga pants and jokes at the kids who actually have cargo pants (to match the shorts, clearly) expense. Football is starting up and girls are talking about their "creative (slutty) yet tasteful (not tasteful)", Halloween costumes already so life is beautiful, right? Wrongo. Three days later it hits 90 and people act like they've never experienced the effects of the sun. You get the kids who still dressed for the cold/wind and are soaked through by the time they sit next you in class, awesome. Then there are the people who are dressed for the weather but just won't stop with the "Its so hot!" and "I'm melting!" Shut up, you are not the Wicked Witch of the West (Or East? IDFK) and you'll be fine. After everyone has re-acclimated to the heat, like a slap to the bag, it's windy as fuck and you have to remember to grab your Fratagonia on your way to class. Mother nature is a bitch. But not as much as the girls who have already pulled out the Uggs and the knee length parkas. Really? The switch from flip flops to Sperrys wasn't dramatic enough for you? I wish I could unleash Brogina George on every girl I see thats ridiculously overdressed. 

This is not the scenery guys are always referring to. 

          The only thing worse than seeing people pathetically prepared for changes in the weather (This happens four times a year, you should have learned how to adapt. Darwinism at work?) is seeing them tweet about it. Enough with the weather tweets. Jaysus. 

          However, I am a huge fan of fall. Yoga pants and Halloween aside, it means everyone will no longer be sweating on the walk from the pregame to uptown. It means football every Sunday and baseball might finally get interesting. It means hockey starts soon and that the NBA lockout won't end soon (wait, what?). And it means the two greatest holidays, obviously Thanksgiving and Christmas (68 days & 99 days, respectively. Stay strong), are not too far away. Whether you like the cold or not, (Please, don't talk about it) Fall is pretty decent so just watch some football, throw on a sweatshirt and respect the chill. 

Freshman Fail - Internship Edition

          So this is an email I got from a freshman looking to be an intern today. I was planning on waiting for Fail Friday to post this but I'm gonna announce the interns and add them to the Broster tomorrow so here it comes. When I got this email tonight I just had to laugh. Nice wet dream, bro. Keep following. 

"My first weekend here started out with a bang, literally. My older brother is a recent grad, so he threw my number out to a few of his fraternity brothers to look out for my buddies and I until we became networked with other people who had houses and shit. I meet up with one of the guys he had introduced me to a while back (parents weekend all throughout high school lead to mad amounts of caps and throwing around cash from a young age) and we met at the fraternity house for what I thought to be a few drinks before hitting the bars. I was kind of wrong. Two hours later I was 8 deep (not about to lie about how much I can drink, i know plenty of minions who would claim to be ten deep, but theyre all fucking liars) and feeling well-beyond ready to go out. Next on the agenda was CJ's, where thankfully they knew the bouncers and shit so i was able to get in and acquainted with my first wrist-band. Enter brownout mood. I'm fairly certain I bought drinks for about 11 chicks and half of the fraternity. Soco and lime shots were decent and cheap, so that was being thrown around like newspapers on a sunday morning. My next clear recollection was sucking face with some junior who actually believed that I was a sophomore at Dartmouth.That works every time. We left for her place to go bang, which was sick, so I took another shot and left the bar with an empty wallet and a stomach filled with what was about to be some colorful puke. She lived far as fuck away, but I kept trucking, god forbid i end the night without closing on this 6. She slips a condom on me (who the hell does that?) and we slay until i climax like mt. st. helens. She walks with me into the bathroom and out of no where, I square up to her, make eye contact, and projectile onto her face, rug, and toilet. For some reason, my first instinct was to grab her monogrammed bath towel and wipe off my puke covered body. That sort of pissed her off, but fuck it. I slip in my own puke, nail my forearm on the toilet seat, grab my pants and hit the road. This bitch was practically in tears as I made my exit. Thankfully I didn't shell out my bbm pin or anything, and she thinks my name is james valincourt, so I won't be receiving any facebook inboxes. My girlfriend would kill me if this shit went public, so alas I'll sign off" 

Freshman Fail. 

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. 

Syllabus Week With Brofessor PostGrad

My name is Brofessor PostGrad, and I’ve been where you are. I graduated this past May, and now I’m back to give you insight into the life of a Post Grad bro.

Sandy Brofax beat me to the punch, but only partially, and in a good way. He pretty much nailed the Freshman crash course post. I’m going to corroborate with his lesson in the evolution of Miami living. Mind you, the rest of my posts probably won’t be this long. This may sound a bit like a brochure. Yes, possibly, but a brochure you should keep with you like a freshman with a campus map.  So don’t even think about bitching, and enlighten yourselves. 

A few things I would add to Freshman year:

·   Rush. End of story. It was the best decision of my collegiate career.

-Lots of bros much like yourself.

-Ballin asset for networking. “Hey Jim, I noticed you were a __ __ __ , I’m one at Miami currently”

-Lot’s of sexy sorority chicks. Tons. Of. Babes.

-At Miami there’s an old adage: you are either Greek, Athlete, or Geek.

·   Try out for a club sport at Miami. It’ll make you just a bit cooler if you make it, Champ.

-another group of bros, stay fit without trying really, ladies love an athlete, (Jersey Chasers. Need I say more.)

·   Relationships coming into college: Don’t do it, Bud. I made that mistake. I missed out on a lot of bro time, parties, meeting new people.

“But I have guaranteed sex on the weekends, Dude”

Shut up, Rook. It’s not worth staying in a relationship that is slowing your climb up the Miami ladder. That may sound shallow, but you’ll see.

·   As queer as this sounds, get sick grades your freshman year. That’s your goddamn rock. Many of you may say “oh, I’m too frat to care”. Shut the fuck up. If your grades blow, you won’t be rushing anyways in January. Nobody likes a cocky Geed.

Sophomore Year:

·   Live in the Fraternity house. At the end of a drunken, sweaty Brick night, your lady friend isn’t going to want to walk back to a dorm. She wants to go to the Frat Castle. You’ll feel like a boss when you walk in with a smokeshow.

·   Make buddy buddy with the bartenders/doormen. You’re probably still under 21, which means you won’t be buying a lot of drinks at the bar otherwise. Along with this, try to talk to Will (owner of Brick, Will’s Pizza, etc) when you see him. He’s a cool dude, and when he’s working the bar he’ll hook you free/extra shots frequently.

·   “Oh no, what am I gonna do for beer if I’m not at the bar?” Pro Tip: Order from the Den. When we did, they wouldn’t card much of the time.

·   Go on spring break. Grab a bunch of your bros and a bunch of your female friends. We went to Panama City Beach, and it was a SHITSHOW. No need to worry about drinking age on the beach, so chill out.

·   Watch out if you are talking to or hooking up with more than one girl in a sorority. That’s a dangerous game, my bros. But hey, maybe you’re Kenny Loggins, and you’re on the highway to the danger zone.

Junior Year:

·   Live in a sweet house or apartment off campus. If you live in a dorm, that’s super geed. I had a house that was on Vine (which isn’t terrible) but we had a front and back yard which was clutch for when we threw down.

·   You’ll turn 21 this year probably. Congrats. If not, sucks to suck. Avoid being your younger friends’ alchy bitch (always running to Spirits or the Den). “Hey can you go grab me a couple cases?” Yeah, if I can hook up with your sister.

·   With that being said, familiarize yourself with the 21 and Up bars. Make these your kingdoms. “What were your favorites?”

1. Three Trees is the shit. That was my favorite spot. No stupid freshman, very chill atmosphere, cute servers, and they play the same music as they do at the other bars. Tini Tuesday: myriad of females, Martini’s are 5 bucks, (Order it in a whiskey glass. Save yourself some dignity fellas) bucket of beer $10
2. Skybox is a great place to get drunktaneous. It’s acceptable there.
3. Top Deck is a great place to escape Skybox to chill out at the tail end of the night.

·   Guys, you should be buying one of a few select drinks: Beer (tall natty draft), Whiskey and Coke (rum is for freshman), Vodka Redbull (only if you need a pick me up), Mind Probe or Trashcan/Recycle Bin. “I like cranberry vodkas.” NO. The only time you should order those is when they’re for the blond bomb hanging on your shoulder.

·   Go on another sick spring break.

·   For God sakes, do something boss over the summer. You’re gonna just lay out by the bay all day, all summer? Well that’s pretty cool…and lazy, you shit head. Get an internship and go Kenny Fucking Powers CEO on everyone’s ass.

Senior Year:

·   Go out 3-4 nights a week roughly first semester. Second semester, take a rest on Sunday night. Or Funday the fuck out of Sunday, and chill out Monday. “I can’t do that, that’s too much.” Sack the fuck up. It’s like telling a virgin: It’ll hurt at first, but then it gets awesome.

·   Day drink. A lot. Even in between classes. Before group meetings. Sometimes these get in the way of fun. You’ll receive these texts/emails: “Hey, sorry, we had to change the group meeting from 2 to 5:30.” Are you shitting me, you over-achieving… Just gotta give them the ole fuck you sometimes.

·   Sun’s out, guns out? Not quite. Sun’s out, pitchers of natty out. Skips, Brick.

·   Live in an even better house or apartment than last year. We had a house on Main Street a block from uptown. Clutch. Throw copious amounts of parties.

·   Go on a bunch of bar crawls. Blackout mandatory. Good stories will result. Try a ‘Bar Golf’ bar crawl; it adds an element of competition. “What’s bar golf?” I’m slightly disappointed. Go ask someone.

·   Start your job search early. It will make things easier later.

·   At this point in your Miami career, I think it’s acceptable to settle down with a serious girlfriend. You’ve played the college field, met a lot of different kinds of chicks, and you know what you’re looking for, for the most part. I did, and we’re still together.

·   Go on an awesome spring break. Drink Heavily. We went to Fort Meyers, and the percentage of the time I was sober would lead you to believe I should attend AA.

·   Go out during your finals week. “I have exams.” No shit, Chief. But you wouldn’t have to worry about those if you already had a job on lock.

·   “What about graduation day? Isn’t that like, depressing?” Get frat drunk on graduation day. Everyone does. Even the Grandparents.

Yes, that was my bit of advice for all years. I’m sure I missed some stuff. It was getting long regardless.

Brofessor PostGrad

New Kid Just Throwing Out Pure Gold

          Holy mother DAMN this kid is ridiculous. And I fucking love it. Kid just keeps sending emails even though we've already told him that we want his crazy ass on board. Hysterical. Woke up to this email this morning. Maybe I should just tell this freshman to email us and I'll just post whatever he sends. So far, kid is throwing out pure gold. Here's the last email I got, name still removed and some other things taken out to protect identity and shit. 


"I'm really high. My roommates out and I smoked in my dorm room. That's actually the reason I emailed you guys in the first place. I was really high. I was sitting at my computer, and I decided to write an email where I basically just changed the words of Charlie's speech in the episode where he tries to get a job as a janitor in that public school. 

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3JBksFaNbo0

I don't know if I should really be sending all this through the school's email system. Do you think they read this stuff? Maybe they just read select ones that have special "key words" that would allude to an email containing illicit content. I bet some of the stuff I said in this email would be a key word. Do you think twitter would be a key word for those network analyst spies? What spy would want to read about people mentioning twitter on their school email? I'm sure it would all just be sorority girl gossip about what people say on twitter.  What if there was a special government agency that was devoted to keeping track of girl drama? That would be the worst job ever, right? Like this one guy's job would be to do something like record all the gossip that came out of one middle school, and his informants are 14 year old girls. I'm sure there's been a disney movie with a plot like this; with a grumpy principal antagonist and a touching conclusion in which the spy finds his inner child. I'm imagining this happening at a the 8th grade dance, but that parts a little foggy.

I don't really know why I'm writing this email right now. I am very high, and I don't really have a reason. I probably shouldn't send it, but I've started it so I think I might as well. I hope you guys don't have a very negative opinion towards people who do that stuff (I don't want to say the word because the network spies will pick up the key words) If you do, this thing isn't going to work out between us. I like sitting in my room high. It's relaxing. It helps me think clearly and decisively. Whenever I have to write a paper, I do "it" in like 2 hours. It makes writing so much easier. 

I didn't think you guys would ever accept my internship. I didn't actually you guys to read it. I guess I had the impression that you were getting hundreds of applications. Oh well. Actually I'm pretty glad you accepted me though. I was looking for a club sport or some shit to join so I could show my parents I was actually staying motivated in college, but I guess now I can tell them I got an intern position at an off-campus publication. ha.

I'm going home for labor day weekend though so maybe we can meet tomorrow night. I would like to actually meet. You guys could come chill in my dorm and my RA's cool so we can get  high. If you're thinking something else, that's cool. If it involved alco hol it would be cooler. (the space in alco hol is to keep the spies from recognizing the keyword). I don't care though.

I guess this is kind of the stuff that I was talking about writing. Stuff about living in dorms with room mates and annoying neighbors or trying to find a good par ty or a way to get alco hol. You guys talk about the coolest places to hang out when you can drink. Going to skippers is pointless for an underclassman. None of us can get a beer. There's kind of this barrier between us and you guys because of that. 

I really am high though. It is making me really tired so I'm going to go to sleep. I have to get up at 8 tomorrow."

          Is this kid a gem or what? I may have died when I read "alco hol" and "par ty." Definitely acted like one of those idiots who gets a text and laughs out loud then refuses to tell the people around him what is so fucking funny. And guessing most of you knew exactly what show he references with the Charlie thing (It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia, if you actually didn't fucking know) Thinking about it, this kid seems just like Charlie. Kid embodies the Wild Card. Every assignment I give him now will be referred to as CharlieWork. (If you don't get any of these references, please, do yourself a favor and get educated.) 

          And we definitely haven't gotten hundreds of applications but we've gotten a fucking lot. And you guys keep stepping up your game so we're keeping this open for a while longer. Keep emailing us and don't worry if yours aren't of this kid's caliber, thats is just being unrealistic. I don't think anyone is on this kid's level.