Thoughts on blacking out...the Bro way.

Now...we've all blacked out. One of the funniest things I ever hear is when you have to get a physical from the doctor and he asks you if you booze...then he invariably asks if you've ever blacked out...as if the first question didn't answer the second. You'd think he'd know from looking at me that I'm a bro, and that yes, doc, I black out on the regular. Maybe it's my fault though, I really tone down my bro in the doctor's office, because I don't want to hear all his fucking 'science' about how I'm killing my body. I know that counts against me in my bro win/loss column, but I've got enough wins.

So...point made - Bros black out. Hopefully...for all of your sakes, and my own, bros don't get THIS blacked out :

...That picture...I struggle with whether or not it's even humane to expose you to it...but shit, you're bros, you can handle it.

"So the fuck what, Bronest?" You must be asking, "Yeah, we're bros...and we black out...so what, tell me something I don't bro!" Okay, okay, shit - this post isn't about 'blacking out' in itself...it's about how to handle your blackouts better, it's about putting your blackouts into prospective. I'm here to help bros the world over, to give you some insight into yourself, and your/our ways as bros.

Now, the inspiration from this post came from this weekend. While Vic was fratting his face off up north, I was still bumming around the capital of the free world with some of our favorite brostars. Needless to say, it was a huge night. It might rank as one of my quickest blackouts ever...and it DEFINITELY ranks as the most complete blackout I've ever had. And when I use the word 'complete' I mean that this wasn't a brown out, it was a black out...and when I use the word 'complete' I mean that it wasn't like your normal black out where there's at least ONE bro who remembers what the fuck happened. Not this time. Every single one of us had no idea what happened in the morning.

The next day when everyone started checking their bank balances...we came to the strange realization that we'd cumulatively spent upwards of 300 dollars. There were only four of us, the bar we were at wasn't especially smarmy, and we'd done the majority of our drinking (or so we thought) at the apartment. I think I speak for all four of us when I say I only remember having two drinks at the bar before blacking out, and after that....who knows??

Obviously, this dampened spirits a bit...for a moment and nothing more. Now...if a bunch of puss-ass non-bros had racked up that bill, they'd probably either shit...or laugh about how fucking out-of-characterly crazy they got. Bros do none of the above...there may have been some chagrin over the amount spent in the backs of our minds...especially when you consider that bar tabs like this are pretty much a weekly thing, but we weren't all that concerned about that. Mostly...we wondered why the fuck we didn't get more booze...if we'd spent that much money. Did we get DILLIGAFED by the bar? Did they see us jack that wine...that girls coat? Did we dilligaf the bar wench? What happened? All these questions are great for bros...we love plot, we love stories...but throughout this experience I've learned a lot about bros, blacking out, and bros when they black out.

For all the bros who are still fratting hard in dormitories, frat houses, and campus apartments... The real world black out is much different...especially when you're with such a small crew. When you're at school and you black the fuck out...there are all kinds of people who you know you may have run in to here or there...any girl you could have dilligafed will probably make you hear about it later. Blacking out in the real world...at a bar full of strangers...with only three of your bros...all of whom blacked out hard, leaves the morning a strange mystery. That will never be solved. I can't remember a black out when I was at school that didn't eventually become resolved...all the memories I couldn't make were related back to me eventually.

Not so this time. So it was a great opportunity for me to observe the bro in this scenario, study our reactions...and learn more about the BRO and his unique life perspective. .... .... ..... ....... ............. "BRONEST! TELL US!"

HA! Don't worry...I'll feed you, baby birds.

Now, I've talked a lot on this blog about the sacrifices bros make on a regular basis for their elevated social status. We've got to deal with friends who would both die for us, but would relish in the opportunity to drive us just shy of suicide. We've got to deal with non-bros and all their silliness...we've got to deal with hippies and hipster kids who think they've got something figured out. We've got to deal with the civilians in bars who look at us and think there's no method to our madness and that we are just animalistic, barbaric and primitive. As I mentioned in most recent BRO DON'Ts addition : BROS DON'T WHINE - some bros can't take all of this. They stress about the way they are perceived by people who don't matter - they have no understanding of sacrifice for a greater good.

But bros? We have a fervor about us - a strange passion for nights like the one above described that's something like a drag racer...only we don't have brakes, and none of that fucking pussy parachute shit in the back. We all know it. That acceleration an evening can take...the way binges seem to speed up and speed up until what you see is blurry, and then the g-force takes you down and it goes black. We love that - we hate the idea of taking a weekend slow, or even an average day. That's something that ALWAYS fascinates me about bros...one of my favorite things is to introduce two brostars who I know well individually, but don't know each other very well. They could not have anything in common other than their broness...they could have completely different personalities, but the ONE thing that is ALWAYS common ground is this obsession with acceleration...the piling on and piling on and piling on of booze, words, stories, experiences and experiences until the whole thing just spills over and you wake up in your own vomit...or piss.

Okay...okay...I know I'm rambling. You think I've gotten off track...because I started talking about sacrifice, then just rambled about with some gay shit about how bros like to 'accelerate' ??

Ok...so I'll try to break it all down...I'll try to be as brief as possible...and I'll make sure you leave this post with an intrigued shrug...and I'll make sure that the next time you're out with your bros, you'll think about this blog - and laugh.

The average bro recognizes the general monotony of every day life...we don't get as excited about stupid office drama and gossip as the nerdy chicks and the civilian non-bro dudes get. We don't obsess over celebrities and their personal lives. We look at things and decide how to make them better. Examples?? One day long ago...a BRO had a beer...but he wanted something better...so he dropped a shot into it. One day long ago...a BRO who loved binge drinking wanted to make chugging beer more of a spectacle...so he bought a goddamn funnel and a hose. One day long ago...a bro was at a keg in a frat house...a girl asked him to fill her cup...he said she could only drink beer if she grabbed the edges of it, and let his bros pick up her legs and drink straight from the tap. One day long, long, long ago...a Bro was banging some girl, but before he got down to it, he thought to himself, "Hey...what's good with that mouth? What's up that backdoor?"

These examples are everywhere - seek and ye shall find, my bros.

Bros sacrifice perky Monday mornings for a blazing inferno of weekend belligerence.

Bros sacrifice the deceptive comforts of one-dimensional friendships borne from convenience for a maddening crowd of outrageous bros who'll take us to the edge of insanity, hold us there just long enough until our faces turn blue - whip us back around, punch us in the face...then pick up our bar tab.

Bros sacrifice the petty luxuries of general anonymity for the grind and the challenge of momentary glory, intermittent euphoria, and everlasting pride.

The above paragraph can be boiled down to yet another glorious addition to the BROS DON'T List : BROS DON'T SETTLE. We don't. We don't settle for one shot or six, we don't settle for one beer or twelve, we don't settle for mediocre interpersonal relationships that add nothing to our ever-lengthening lists of epic BRO shit that we've done. We don't settle for moderately-paced nights that are easily shrugged off and left to fester in that garbage-heap corner of our memory banks. We don't settle for self-conscious whispering, slumped shoulders or gelatin spines. We don't settle...we don't.

Now...anyone who knows me, and as you readers will come to know and appreciate - I'm long-winded like the diameter of Katrina...but I'll always bring you back around to the eye.

So...what have we established? A) Bros black out...hard B) We do anything to take an experience to another level C) Bros don't settle for anything that's not worthy of relating in the never-ending halls of celestial brodom and...most importantly D) Bros are NOT your average person...when it comes to blacking out, or anything else.

An unamed non-bro recently told a brostar we know that he just didn't "GET" why this brostar and all his friends were so outrageous...he said he didn't get why they just couldn't go out and have a quiet, normal night, where they didn't scream, where they didn't dilligaf the public, where they could just make it through the night without drawing any attention to themselves, without...I guess you could say, 'acting out.' This brostar...he said what's really the best thing/only thing a bro could say in response to such an outrageous, infuriating query: "If you don't get it...then you don't get it." Exactly. The above mentioned non-bro...he settles...his weeks are probably not too different from his weekends. A lot of people would NOT like to categorize themselves that way - but if there's even a question, it's probably true. Just because you go out and get drunk on the weekend doesn't mean you really do anything differently. Even if you black out occasionally, it doesn't exactly cut it. This blog, and bros in general, don't glorify binge drinking for the mere sake of it, drinking doesn't mean you're a bro - it's the attitude with which you booze.

THE (REAL) WRAP UP

. . . Don't get caught up with people who don't seem to understand you and your bro-ways. Understand that they don't get you, and you don't get them. They don't get how you could rock out with such a reckless abandon, and you don't get out anyone on Earth could settle for being so boring so regularly. They don't get that even though you feel like total shit at work on Monday, it was worth it - they don't get that when you rack up an egregious bar tab and don't even remember drinking...it was worth it. Bros are tall peaks, huge spikes, and they're flat-lines...non-bros hover melancholic and mediocre just below the horizontal axis, occasionally peaking up across into relevance like a whale gasping for breath. And for any non-bro that may stumble across this site, remember this : I am Ahab . . . so you better keep holding your breath.