Wednesday, November 16, 2011

Gems - Miami Girls, All 8 of Them



"OMG guys, you have to read this book.
It, like, changed my life." 


Miami: Home to a generally good looking student population, emphasis on the female side. It was one of the contributing factors to chose Miami as my institution, (just kidding. But seriously.) All you hear about is how Miami is home to preppy ladies, however, not all of the chicks in Oxford are the same. Here is a list of the types of girls you will meet at our great school:

1. The Geed:

She's not into the Greek scene. She scoffs at everything "frat" and usually all that is preppy. If you're wearing your letters, she commonly will look down on you. She won't laugh at your jokes (even if they are genuinely funny) and don't bother trying to explain something to her. She loves to wear her 'trendy' non-prep clothing and hang out in the Art building or Architecture studio. She avoids bars such as Brick, and loves to hang out at Skipper's. An anecdote: I once met a friend of a friend while uptown. I asked if she was in a sorority and she replied "No" with a bit of a condescending laugh, then asked if I was in a "frat". I replied yeah, and she gave me a scrunched up face. Even in my drunken state I noticed and asked if there was a problem. Actual quote: "Well, you're probably a douchebag. Frat guys are douchebags". Bitch, just because I'm in fraternity and have confidence does not make me a douche. 

2. The Geed who thinks she's in Sorority:

This one can be normal, but can also be annoying. She wears Sperry's, Lily, Patagonia. She's got Daddy dough. However, she is not in a Sorority. She is only in a "professional fraternity" or one of the other letter-clubs. She talks like rush and pledging are the same as real deal. She may or may not try to make her fraternity seem more legit than your 'social' fraternity. Look, don't get me wrong, I knew a lot of people in professional fraternity's, but they didn't try to make it equal to or greater than being in a 'social' fraternity or sorority. A lot of people are in both. Although, I did know a girl from one of my groups who would not shut the fuck up about "D-Sig's" parties. If I wanted to rage like that, I'd get my drank on in business casual. Oh wait, I did that plenty.

3. The Sorority girl: usual preppy attire, always carrying a Vineyard Vines tote with her letters/insignia on it, chatting about who she will take to the date party/social/semi/formal  Her sub groups:

3a .-The Top Tier Sorority girl: She typically can have a nose up in the air demeanor. Usually very good looking. However there are some duffs or mulligans that got in because they are a legacy, wealthy, or they have the 'attitude'. "I only party with top tier fraternities". Wearing your letters is a conversation starter, and frequently a deal breaker in her eyes. Doesn't expect to pay for many drinks when she's uptown. She's trying to get her Mrs degree.

3b. -Middle/Not Top Tier Girl: Her looks can range from Plan D to Smokeshow. Fella's: There is always at least 1 or 2 babes in each sorority. Trust me. These girls can be smug to those who are "Top Tier" (male or female), and are aware of how they stack up to the other Sororities. Oppositely, they can be naive or just don't care about how they, for lack of better words, 'measure up' to the other sororities. They can be a lot nicer and more real than the other girls. They are humble, fun to rage with, and aren't complete skanks. 

4. Daddy's Hedgefund Baby:

She wears everything that is 'prep'; 'Vines, 20 pairs of Sperry's, pearls, Norts on Norts on Norts. Drives a Range Rover. Doesn't care if guys buy her drinks because she's already started a frat-tab. Some of these girls are absurdly wealthy, and they know it. Anything goes wrong, she's on the phone with her father. Refuses to venture into Walmart. Always drinking a Fiji water. Others are much more low key about their bank account.


5. The Female Frat-Star (hooks a lot of dudes, talks like a bro, drinks nothing but light beer and whiskey, neon, pinnies, bonging, wayfarers)

She's at every fraternity party, she's in the frat-castle more than you are (fratrat), she started day drinking before you. Neon snapback, wayfarers, pinnie, red solo cup in hand. This girl's goal is to drink like the boys. Always the one asking if you want to bong or shotgun a beer, and will promptly call you a pussy if you don't. She likes to call you "dude" and "Bro". Really fun to party with. Usually not one you'd like to be in a relationship with due to their attributes and habits paralleling a dudes. At night, she's on the hunt for a dance floor makeout or a hookup. 

6. Blackout Betty:

She doesn't drink to have fun. She already is having fun. She drinks to rage, and her goal is blackout. She "doesn't drink beer", only liquor. She's the girl falling over and lying in the grass during the day drinking parties.She drank half a bottle of vodka by herself during the late afternoon pregame and got dressed hammered, resulting in some hotmess/slutty mashup. She already has her heels off to walk uptown. She insists on going to Brick and nowhere else will suffice. She is screaming every lyric to every top 40 song. She insists she's not drunk as she struggles to look you in the eye with her own glazed over and wandering eyes. She's already ordering another round of shots after everyone just took one. Rude to the bartenders. Making out with some rando as she's falling off her barstool. Adversly, if she's not getting any, no one else is; the worst cockblock. This also coincides with how she usually has to go home early because she's in close proximity of blackout, and she's taking everyone of the girlfriends with her. 

7. The Athlete

She's in good shape. Maybe even in better shape than you. She could be a 6'2" baller or a 5'3" field hockey chick. Miami gear on most days; Varsity jackets, warmups, sweats, athletic kicks. Some don't seem entirely interested in the male species. Depending on the season, she may be non-existent in the class you have with her. Probably won't see her uptown all that often, and if they are, odds are they'll be borderline sober.

8. The Exchange Student

Miami has been trying to expand its diversity over the past decade or so. As a result, there are a small subculture of foreign kids in Oxford. How they can be spotted: never speaking up in class, accents so thick you thought they are speaking jibberish, umbrellas in sunny weather, engaging in an awkward hybrid of walking and jogging to make it to class or catch the bus, hanging out in large groups, frequent residents of King (even on the weekend). Some are very friendly, others not so much. Another anecdote: I had a marketing class with a handful of french kids. One girl always dressed like a straight up hipster, and she acted like she was better than the American students. French stereotype much? One day in class, I answered a non-yes/no question (pretty well, I might add), and this bitch had the audacity to address me specifically and bluntly say "No, you are wrong." This is about the time I wanted to beat her with a baguette. So I simply replied "No, I am correct, Mademoiselle". Don't take shit from those snooty foreigners. Befriend the smart ones in difficult classes.

-Brofessor PostGrad

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

Wednesday, November 9, 2011

Give Those Bros a Beer - Tyler Biggs, Matt Tomassoni and Curtis McKenzie





Freshman forward Tyler Biggs was named Gongshow Gear CCHA Rookie of the Week last week after the hockey team’s sweep of Alaska; some solid momentum for the team going into this weekend’s big series vs. Michigan at home. Check out Gongshow Gear on twitter, @GongshowGear, for quality hockey lifestyle gear and some funny fucking tweets. Throw a follow the Toronto Maple Leafs prospect’s way (although he’s already got 4k superfans hanging on his every word), @Tyler_Biggs. HERE'S the link to the story on CCHA.com. So even though he’s clearly doing just fine in his first year here, give this freshman a beer. 
          The other bros are growing mustaches for Movember. You've all heard of No Shave November but Movember takes the tradition a step further. Movember is a worldwide movement to raise awareness for men's health, specifically prostate cancer and and other cancers that affect men. You can donate to Matt Tomassoni (@MattDingo27) and Curtis McKenzie's (@MuckBro16) Movember page HERE. So throw them a donation and give those bros a beer (And make sure you get to the Goggin Friday and Saturday for what are guaranteed to be two great games). 


Gems - Take Care




Usually I’d hand off music stuff to Notorious B.R.O but I’m calling dibs on this one. Drake’s album Take Care is probably all you’re hearing about. Every tweet, every status update seems to be lyrics from Take Care and I am not complaining. This is B.o.B’s “Airplanes” all over again but with good music. I haven’t stopped listening to it yet and it just keeps growing on me. Now, some people have been calling it soft or whatever but fuck that. Andre 3000 kills it. Rihanna is decent on her track. Plus, I feel like everyone can relate to every fucking song like we’re all middle school chicks acting like “he totally wrote that song, like, FOR ME.” If you say you HAVE stopped listening, you're lying. But I’ll hop off Drake’s dick and let you decide whether its good or not. But if you say that it isn’t, you’re wrong. 


"Don Vito Goes America on Everyone's Asses"




5:28 p.m. On a Tuesday. Scene opens on a near empty Brick Street, save a few loyalists and a small pack of wild townies. I've been in this scene more often than I've been behind a computer screen entertaining you and for that, I will not apologize. I’ve been slacking in a major way when it comes to writing and tweeting. Whatever, cry about it (Some of you have been via Twitter and no, it's not endearing). But this attitude has applied to everything in my life recently. I’ve definitely reached that point in the semester where I just don’t give a fuck. I actually feel sorry for you guys because some funny shit has happened around campus and around, ya know, the world that I could’ve blogged about and you all missed out. Sucks. But this is my promise to continue to be as dysfunctional as the "It's Always Sunny" gang and not give a fuck. And the Brotege will continue to do all the Charlie Work. You’re welcome, Miami. 


Friday, November 4, 2011

Post-Grad Homecoming


It's Tuesday morning. I just slid into my chair at my desk at work. Still a little out of it from the weekend, but I still have a shit eating grin on my face. As you all know, this weekend was Homecoming at good ole Miami. Being a recent Alum, I obviously had to venture back to the Oxford bubble for some celebrating and questionable decisions.

     Friday during work was an absolute crawl. Time moved slower than a high turtle. I battled this by downloading 3LAU's rage mixtape "Dance Floor Filth", and partied in my head for the majority of the day. I got anxious about missing festive drinking, and got the nod to duck out half an hour early. I'm considerably lucky to not have crossed paths with Johnny Law on my drive, due to my speed fluctuating between 80 and 90mph. Sadly I arrived too late to participate in beat the clock. Refusing to be downtrodden about this, I raised my chin, grabbed a two liter of coke, a trusty handle of Maker's Mark, and set forth to catch up with my bro's and hoes. Playing catch up actually turned into the equivalent of getting a golden mushroom in Mario Kart, because I blew past my friends. My girlfriend and I hadn't planned on dressing up, but in my drunken state, I suddenly became insistent on putting a costume together. The result: Marty McFly from Back to the fucking Future. To me, I looked awesome. Not sure what other people thought... Anyways, we ventured back uptown. I saw a kid dressed as Santa with a hawaiian shirt on, and felt the need to harass him. Drunken stroke of genius/not exactly clever: "Go back to delivering presents in Hawaii you fuck!". Wen't to my Fraternity's halloween party. I asked a younger brother to snag me a couple brews, but he said "Dude, we already ran out" (I wasn't too surprised, it was way too crowded). Although, he then said "But I have this-" and held up a handle of vodka and a 2 liter of Sprite. Thus, vodka to the face commenced. Repeatedly. 
     Sometime later: Uptown. Brick's line: #ThingsLongerThanKimsMarriage (how pop-culturally relevant of me). 45 was next choice. Bar was a zoo. Bartender saw me, Yelled "Marty McFly?" to which I drunkenly gave him a thumbs up. His reply "One of my favorite movies, man. First rounds on me". Success. Lost track of time. Brick followed, and didn't last long. I ran into my grandbig, and bought him, my girlfriend, and myself shots of straight whiskey. I'm pretty sure I told her Jim or Makers. We threw back the shots and I instantly knew something was wrong. 1. The shot was neither Makers, Jim, or even Jack. It was fucking Old Crow. The bitch swindled me. That shot went down rougher than a sandpaper handjob. 2. My stomach was not feeling that shot. My girlfriend took one look at me and said "We need to go". I agreed, I felt like shit and it was almost closing time. On our way out of Skybox, the girlfriend stops abruptly and says "Hold on one sec", turns, and proceeds to throw up in the corner. This took me by surprise, and I said "What the fuck" and looked around to see if anyone had noticed. I turned to check back on her and she went boof round two. At this point my stomach tapped out of the battle, and I followed suit. Couples vomming. How romantic. After this, the show wen't black.

     Saturday morning. I wake up and see an empty Gatorade bottle and a bottle of advil. I felt great. My girlfriend must have went into caring shacker mode, and I was feeling the benefits. We all decided to head to brick to watch some college ball and put down some trashcans of the alcoholic variety. As you can imagine, this went swimmingly. Intoxicated conversations: with friends about post-grad life. With people I've had group projects with. With people I'd only met once before. Acting like best friends with mere acquaintances. Enter extreme hunger. The resolve: Bagel & Deli. Standard. Not so standard: taking said bagels back to Brick and eating at the bar whilst drinking a trashcan. Why had I never done this before? 
     We left Brick to go watch the OSU game at my buddy's girlfriend's. We played pong, (I'm not gonna lie and say I was running train like some douche. I'll say I was drunkenly playing like shit, but winning barely). My buddy knocked over a cup and spilled beer all over the wooden floor. I kind of just stood there are stared at the pool of brew. All of a sudden, Pocohontas came running out of one of the bedrooms. The equation in my head: Running drunk Pocohontas + Unnoticed spilled beer puddle = Pocohontas eating shit. What happened: Same equation, but the feather haired girl ate shit and also fell into the beer pong table. Every cup was overturned, including my Bourbon and Coke side-cup. I yelled "Aw shit, the alcohol!" and checked all the cups for remnants. This is about the time I realized I'm an asshole, because she was on the floor, damp with beer and apparently crying. Woops. She ran back into her room. I felt bad, until she went drama queen mode and was even quoted saying "It's the end of the world". Aw Shiieet, Girl. Buckeyes upset the Badgers, we went nuts, mass alcohol consumption followed. Luckily swooped a ride uptown from a sober friend. Too many people were there for the whip, so one brave Bro rode trunk. Brick Street again. Nothing interesting that I can remember or what my friends told me happened here. We left because my girlfriend said, and I quote, "I don't feel so good. The bass is so loud. The bass is making my stomach hurt." Jesus, Woman. I remember 3 things after. 1. Leaving the doors of Brick. 2. Peeing in clear view of some skankily-clad chicks. 3. Eating chicken strips with honey and bbq. Lots and lots of honey and bbq.

Briefly, Things I Missed (and You probably will too): 
-Daydrinking. It's a lot harder to participate in mass day drinking activities out of college.
-Everyone dressing well
-Trashcans
-Being able to walk everywhere within reasonable distance while drunk

Briefly, Things I Didn't Miss Terribly: 
-How crowded Brick gets on the weekends/the line of Brick on the weekends
-When girls barge in on you when you're in one of the Skybox bathrooms
-Bumping into ex's everywhere

I need some more coffee.

-Brof.