Kate Upton Fridays: The Original

Happy Kate Upton Friday bros.

Here's footage from Upton's first photoshoot with SI that launched her into all of our dreams.

NEW VIDEO: Kate Upton's Many Talents

We know that it's not Friday, but this video couldn't wait until the end of the week. Happy Wednesday bros.

Airport People Watching

I’m sitting at Gate C3 for a flight that was supposed to take off nearly three hours ago. After realizing that I would be spending a good portion of my day here, I wasn’t going to pass up this great opportunity to people watch. International airports are by far the primo venue for people watching, with Wal-Mart as the only other contender.  

After sitting in this same seat for hours now, I’ve managed to catalogue some of the types of people that you will encounter on your next trip to the airport.

The Confused Asian Family

They can’t seem to find their way out of a paper bag. Donning large multi-colored visors and fanny-packs, both mother and father try to navigate their way through the concourse with large maps as their children follow 15 feet behind them. Judging by the tone of the father’s Mandarin, (or maybe Japanese. Or Korean. Fuck if I know the difference) he’s yelling at his wife, probably because she gave him shitty directions in the first place. I can only assume they found their gate…or the Panda Express.

Black Guy Wearing a Bluetooth

This guy must be having the best conversation of his life with his friend Trayvon because he is laughing his ass off, giving zero fucks about the people around him. Faithful Bluetooth users like this guy are often mistaken as schizophrenics when people-watchers, like myself, don’t notice the small flashing blue light coming from their ear. When I first saw this guy I said to myself, “Oh shit. Another crazy black dude having a full fledged conversation with himself.” (Which is not that unusual considering that this is the Cleveland International Airport). If you ever end up sitting next to this guy waiting at your gate, avoid all conversation. You never know if he’s talking to you or Trayvon.

Creepy Guy Wearing a Fedora

No one really knows how this dude got through security but he managed to scrape by looking creepy as all hell with his fedora and his Harry Carey glasses. I can understand if this description was for a really old dude who just wants to die in peace. But this creeper is barely 40 and looks like one of those sex offenders you see sitting in a kitchen with Chris Hansen. Try to have your escape route planned if he attempts to sit within 10 feet of you.

The Businessman

He’s the master of all air travel with platinum status and a perfectly packed rolling carry-on. He’s constantly on his iPhone and doesn’t give two shits if he accidently knocks over your $6 cup of coffee (which the fucker did to me. He didn’t apologize either. He just casually said, “That’ll be a tough cleanup.”) Fuck this guy.

White Couple With Too Many Children

Birth control was never an option for these fools. Carting around 5 children under the age of 6 to a fucking airport is a trip straight from hell in my eyes. Their snot nosed children run around the gate like it’s a goddamn Chuckie Cheese while mom is busy feeding the youngest and father-of-the-year over here is playing Angry Birds on his iPhone. If you’re lucky enough to be on the flight with this family you better have the valume on standby.

The Couple That Look Like They’re On The Amazing Race

Unless you’re on a month long journey though the Appalachian Mountains, there is essentially no need to have all of your belongings in huge hiking backpacks at a fucking airport. Just like our confused Asian family, they too have maps out and checking their surroundings, probably looking for their next clue or to find the nearest Whole Foods to stock up on some kale.

The Overly Authoritative TSA Officer

Going through airport security is already the biggest pain in the ass of your trip, and this guy is out there to make it even worse. This police academy failure most likely ended up here after his Mom kicked him out of her basement after he was fired from being a mall cop. He’s the dude that gives everyone dirty looks no matter their gender, age, size or color. Forgot to take off your belt before you went in the scanner? Well your fucked, because this guy over here is trained to believe you’re a terrorist and is about to cavity search your ass.

Terrorist hunting 101.

Next time you head to the airport you might want to pause the iPod and people watch. It’s a very culturally liberating experience. But take my advice: do it at a distance. You don’t want to attract any of these fuckers who may have a question regarding directions or just wanting to talk to you.

I hope they serve scotch on the plane.

-Ron Brogundy

Introducing: Kate Upton Fridays

          We're happy to welcome you to our newest weekly feature: Kate Upton Friday. I'm not gonna waste your time, here's the infamous cat daddy vid. Enjoy. We know we did. 

Call me maybe. 

Respect the Cinco

“Twas the night before Cinco de Mayo, and all through the cabana,

No music was playing, not even Santana.

All three of our families all slept in one bed,

While visions of citizenship danced in our heads.”

The first weekend in May has always been one of my favorite American holidays. Yes, I said an American holiday. To much of the world’s confusion, Cinco De Mayo is celebrated more in the great USA than it is to our brownish neighbors in Mexico.

Yes, I actually took the time to research this shit. Well, by research, I mean Wikipedia-ing the term “Cinco-De-Mayo”. Turns out, 4,000 Mexican troops kicked the shit out of 8,000 French fag soldiers on May the 5th in 1800-something in a small town near Cancun. So basically, this holiday is celebrating the defeat of the French, which I am more than happy to drink to.

But why is this holiday even celebrated in America when our asses weren’t even there fighting? Well, fuck if I know and neither does Wikipedia. They said it was something “cultural”. Yeah, cultural in the sense that millions of them are now living here and most likely mowing my lawn as I type this. But this holiday did bring something great to shitty convenient stores near you: the new Bud Light Lime-a-Rita.

Did you think the BL Plats were a game changer? Well here’s their Mexican cousin

Budweiser has had an amazing year when it comes to mixing up the beer game. The BL Platinums are in all honesty the biggest game changer of 2012. Their newest concoction is not beer, yet does not contain any tequila. It falls under that semi-retarded category that Four Loko’s are considered, which is more commonly known as malt liquor.

The label says “served best over ice”. Yeah, so is premium scotch. Would you drink your Four Loko out of wine glass? That’s what I thought. So I decided to crack it open and chug. My first thoughts were not that bad. The 8% alcohol by volume is kept under control by the sweet marg flavor. And I couldn’t really taste any beer. The thing that caught me most off guard was the size. It’s an 8oz. can, similar to the size of the tomato juice your grandma is forced to drink in her nursing home. Not exactly sure what Bud was thinking when they put it in this miniature can. Easy storage/transportation/shotgunning? Or maybe for grandma? Again, fuck if I know.

The size comparison. I switched to the Patrón after I finished my BL Ritas

Well, I’m already five BL Ritas deep as I’m writing this article, and they’re getting the job done. That Patrón though is staring at me… Here’s my final take on Bud’s newest creation: Bros, only drink them on the Cinco. Other than this upcoming fiesta, make sure to leave the BL Ritas for the slams.

-Ron Brogundy

Shit Asians Do and why we Love Them For It (…sort of)

Disclaimer: This is not meant to be discriminatory or malicious in any way shape or form. It is simply paying homage to the oddities of the hardest workers at Miami University, and quite possibly the world. Side note: I hooked up with an asian once (1/2 asian.. but it still counts, right?)

Running Everywhere

For reasons unknown, Asians always seem to be in a hurry. It might be because they don’t like to waste time because their 26 credit hours are catching up to them, or maybe it’s a conditioned response ever since Godzilla hit Tokyo circa 1998, who knows. Regardless, no one can deny the fact that their size 5 feet are 95% of the time most likely in a dead sprint. Normally this wouldn’t bother me, because I’m all for running and being active (…..lol jk)  but the way they run, in particular the 80 pound girls, is a sight in and of itself. Whether it’s on the track in their pocketless Apple Bottom jeans, or from the printer to their 4 computers in Club King, their arms have this strange anomaly that make them unable to move from their sides. Getting tunnel vision must also be a side effect, because I swear I’ve almost been run over by them at least 10 times. Moral of the story: if a small Asian man seems to be headed in your direction, move out of the fucking way because Su Chong’s on a mission.

Umbrellas in every kind of weather

The epitome of just how many fucks Asians give can be seen in their blatant disregard for the correct use of an umbrella. Sure, they bust their hello kitty or panda umbrellas with ears when it’s raining out just like the rest of us, but the fun doesn’t stop there. I may be able to look past the fact that I’ve seen a few carrying them around when its snowing, but while every Miami girl is laying out in central quad and rocking shorts and a tank top as soon as the sun comes out, Asians can be seen walking around with umbrellas hiding from it. Rumor has it that in Asia tan skin equates you to a lower class in society… but hello, it’s the 2000’s and you’re in America now. Give it up already.  We’ve got sunscreen for that shit.

Ruining the curve

Quite possibly the main reason all university students secretly hate Asians. Nevermind the fact that I can’t do 10 minutes worth of studying without mass texting all the people I know with adderall… but Asians take studying to a new extreme. When they’re not sleeping in the library, breaking a sweat in their intense ping pong or badminton tournaments, or smoking outside every public building they see, they’re tearing shit up on every test they take and raping the educational system in the ass. How they have perfected the art of getting straight A’s without going to class while simultaneously fucking the rest of us normal kids out of a good curve is something I will never understand. Well played you sick fucks, well played.

-Angelina Brolie

He's Ron Brogundy? A Rookie's Debut.

Ahhh, it’s the last week in Oxford. Everyone has summer on their minds. Freedom, maybe a source of income, but mostly planning trips to friends’ beach houses where heavy drinking and other shenanigans will take place. But there is one giant cock block preventing you from truly enjoying these glorious summer days. FINALS.

That heavy procrastination period after Spring break and the Tuesday through Saturday binge drinking sessions with your bros are starting to catch up to you. A slight panic attack ensues when you realize that your inventory of adderall is starting to diminish.

The thought of actually sitting down and studying without the assistance of modern chemistry is eating you from the inside. To your surprise, you find that your reserves are in the black and decide to head to King for your 12-hour study session that you hope will be almost comparable to that of an Asian bio-medical-engineering student.

The exam that you will be sexually assaulting in the morning won’t even know what’s coming. But for the rest of the week, you need some serious planning. How will you use the rest of your XR reserves? Will you hit up the bars and celebrate your conquering of the dreaded exams? Well it’s only Wednesday fuckers. Here’s my mid-week guide to help all of you enjoy your last week in the OxBox, and how to not fuck up your life with exams.

1. If you’ve already left Oxford, fuck you. Yes, we all understand that you only had 2 exams and they both happened to be on Monday. We get it because you told everyone you fucking know, making everyone around jealous on the outside. On the inside we’re all thinking, “Wow, you get to go home early and hang out with your cool ass community college friends for three to six more weeks until all of your real friends who actually go to college come home. I’m really, really jealous.”

2. Snag a table at King Café to get your shit done. The solitary confinement of the third floor is reserved for the previously mentioned token Asian kid. You’ve got one more week with your bros. Study together.

3. Don’t go to Kofenya. Unless you want to be surrounded by liberals, geeds, hipsters and the art history majors.

(If you decide to go there, do me a favor: tell the long-haired-tattooed hippie behind the counter that Japanese poetry sucks dick and that we won the war.)

 4. Sell your goddamm textbooks. I listened in to a conversation between two geeds in line at Dividends a couple of days ago. This is what I recall:

 Geed 1: “You know, I really think I should save my Accounting book. I mean, it could come in handy in the future.”

Geed 2: “Yeah that’s a good idea. So much better than selling it to some, like, corporation.”

  Selling your textbooks, after buying them at the beginning of the semester and maybe using them twice, is a genius, almost magical concept. Early in the day you have a 300 page worthless hunk of tree, filled with equations that resemble something only the previously mentioned token Asian kid would understand, and it has the potential to be transformed into 20+ shots waiting to be ripped at Brick.

Long story short, don’t keep your books; sell them for booze.

5. Stay in Oxford even if you’re in the same boat as the bitch in number 1. The perks of going home early at this point outweigh your last week of raging. Savor your last week with your bros, get shitfaced at as many bars as possible, maybe meet some new slams, eat at one of the nicer establishments, and try new things. You’ll be away from this place for almost 4 months. Leave your mark. A Sunday afternoon departure never hurt anyone.

All of this daydreaming sounds nice on this word document and in my brain. But really, get your shit done. Daddy’s connections only go so far when you’re looking for job in the real world. Get some level of a GPA that, if the decimal place were moved, would be a kickass BAC.

-Ron Brogundy

20 Things to Do Before You Graduate

1. Buy a case. Get your backpack. Grab some brothers and friends. Late one night, visit King Library, the Seal, Upham Arch, Bishop Woods, FSB, Cook, et al; slam a Natty each stop. The Campus Crawl, everyone.
2. Slam a GDI. Some are quite good and come with the added bonus of not dealing with her nagging SO-RAWR-ITY sisters.
3. Piss on your rival fraternity’s house.
4. Get a VIP card to Brick.
5. Does CJ’s still have Hot Pockets? I haven’t had one in awhile. Whatever. If they do, get one (and free food poisoning, too!)
6. Play intramurals drunk.
7. Slam an old flame.
8. Invest in a water balloon launcher. Proceed.
9. Go to class drunk.
10. Steal a Brick from High St. While some might consider it cheesy, it’ll be a nice reminder of Oxford when you are slaving away in a 9 to 5 next year.
11. Punch a townie.
12. Get punched by a townie. Sue. Congratulations, you now own a pickup truck!
13. Sneak your way through FSB and onto Roger’s rooftop deck. Legendary.
14. Play a few rounds of campus golf. Aim for bottom-tiers and geeds.
15. Poo Dollar.
16. Get a Beer Tower. Just fucking kidding.
17. Slam your rival fraternity’s sweetheart.
18. Pizza Hut Lunch Buffet. Vastly underrated.
19. Slam a freshman.
20. Don’t graduate.

-Sandy Brofax. 

Word to the Wise: Why Women Love Assholes

          I grew up as one of those kids who always tried to be “the nice guy.” The one that talked to the pretty girls and, although always did well for himself, somehow failed to bat truly top-tier (hard to imagine that now, right?) I was that guy who would pick up the call from his smokeshow friend at any hour of the day and let her rant end-on-end about whatever asshole with which she was currently involved. I saw the tears, I heard the cries, but the next thing I knew, all was well with her and I was back to square one.

            This behavior continued for many years. Having manifested itself throughout the early stages of high school, it ended when I began dating a nice gal at the end of my junior year. She went to a different high school and was (still is, in fact) a lovely gal all-around.

            At the conclusion of our relationship, I found myself in an awkward spot. Here I was, freshly single, having been in a serious relationship for two-plus years. This is when I became an asshole.

            What is an asshole, you say? A term thrown around by a bunch of liberals. No, but in honesty, an asshole is a man. One who knows what he wants and plays by the rules—yet always wins (even though he occasionally bends them.) An asshole is the guy who will go up to a girl unprovoked and tell her he thinks she’s gorgeous. He’ll be the one who buys her drinks, generally operates like the cock of the walk, and is fully confident in every sense of the word. He’ll be blackout drunk one night and early for bunch the next morning. He operates under the true definition of YOLO, but fuck that phrase, because it sucks.

His detractors will call him arrogant. The asshole won’t mind. They’ll talk about his drinking. He’ll order a double. They’ll remark how he chases tail, and how he womanizes—nonsense; in the immortal words of Hank Moody, an asshole could never dislike women as he “has all their albums.”

So, men, be an asshole. Be up front. Be to the point. Fail to give a damn. Be a man. Go up to that girl at the bar, charm her, ask for her number, do what you will. Treat her well, but never doubt your manly instincts or the thrill of the chase. Drink. Hell, drink a lot. Enjoy your time. Walk into a room and cockily inquire which of the other guys is finishing second. Women fail to find pussyfooting and insecurity attractive, and the quicker you realize that, you’ll be walk-of-shaming in no time.

-Sandy Brofax 

Word to the Wise - The Brof Hits You With Some Knowledge

Do I love country? Sadly, no. I'm too Northern for that. However, I do love Darius Rucker and all that is Hootie. If you don't, you're most likely a terrorist. Anyways, in one of his songs, Darius is explaining to "Be wary of a woman...". Thus, a few brief characteristics and nuances to watch out for in the female population while in college or if you're recently graduated:

-If you've been dating for only a month or so, and she starts talking about marriage or rings: BAIL.

-If all she watches is Disney movies and [cheesy] chick flicks. She will undoubtedly have: A. False pretenses about relationships B. Delusional standards for the male population. 3. Shitty taste in movies. (I'm all about Lion King, don't get me wrong. Shit was raw as a kid.)

-If she always says/posts shit like "I'm soooo fat" "Omg I should lay off the junk food" "Guys just never treat me right". She probably has confidence issues, attention whoring/compliment fishing issues,or a shitty attitude. Or some freakish chimera of all three.

-She has you pay for everything, all the time, every time. This is traversing past chivalry, and bounding into "she's using you, bro" territory.

-She has mostly guy friends, and not many girl friends at all. This most likely means she's a bitch, in some form or another. Or a sloot. (bitchy sloot?)

-She bounces from relationship to relationship frequently; always has a boyfriend. Sounds like commitment issues to me. Or she's a sloot.

-She has an awful laugh that resembles an adolescent seal being clubbed to death. She's hot? Whatever. Imagine listening to that seal dying every time you say something witty.

-There are three kinds of girls in one aspect: Girls who don't like sports, girls who pretend to like sports, and girls who like sports. Stray away from the first, gravitate towards the latter two. Preferably the last one. 

-She only watches shows like 'Real Housewives', 'The Bachelor', and shows about dresses or whatever the fuck. She obviously has poor taste in television, and you'd probably want to commit suicide if you had to sit through that garbage on a regular basis.

-She doesn't drink beer. Get ready for Sloppy Susie. And higher than average bar tabs.

-If she's obsessed with Hello Kitty. Girl, you aren't an Asian twelve year old.

Brof, out.

Gems - Ovi, The Next Gr8 Rapper?

          Now we know why Ovi has been having a relatively subpar season, he's been perfecting his rap game. The man lives with his mother, is one of the greatest players the NHL has ever seen AND just drops verses in Russian rap videos? The man does it all. He lays out his verse at 2:55 but check the 1:21 mark for some rhythmic gymnastics, 2:19 for something I can only call, "Happy Ovi" and 2:49 for some mini Russian making a face that deserves to be shared with the world. Cheers

          (And just for kicks, here's an old french hip-hop song whose chorus is literally translated to, "put on your hood." Fucking Frenchies.)

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.

The Best Thing About The NBA Being Back? THIS.

This is a GEM of a commercial for the return on the NBA aired by TNT. Chills for days. 

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

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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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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). 


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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. 


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"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. 


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