Bros b4 Ho’s

by The Jerky Bastard

The music’s pumpin’ and the night is hot. You and your friends are at the discotheque with purpose; studying up on your binge drinking. The bartender hands you a vivaciously delicious cocktail as you spin from the bar to check out a tantalizing brunette nearby. She catches your gaze and a feeling of relief washes over you, she winked! For a split second you think of the guys and how they will feel if you ditch them. Your mind barely finishes composing the thought before you’re on your way over to buy her a drink. It’s not long before you two are bumpin’ uglies and knockin’ bedposts, much to the dismay of your poor roommates. You struggle to sweep your old life under the carpet as your answering machine beeps pile up, collectively sounding like a hectic EKG readout of your exasperated and unappreciated friends. Congratulations big man, you’re not a troll.

Sigh, don’t we all know a guy like this? The mere idea that a woman would engage in more than simple conversation with them strokes their ever so tortured egos and they instinctively drop everything. Had we known the gap in your self-esteem was so large, maybe we could have paid you a few more petty compliments. But then again, thinking about how much this boring trophy barslut of a girl means to you we might have gone emotionally bankrupt making the payments. So you can’t reach a phone once in a while and call your dedicated friends, we understand, you’re “attached”.

Even if evening plans were to materialize between you and your crew, we’d know to save an extra spot on the couch for the football game, or pinch in a bit extra the next time we’re rolling a joint. After all, you’re inseparable, you’ve got her and you’re not letting go, even for a second. Oh and yes, please, tell us all about the time you two f**ked on the ferris wheel at the exhibition, or when she used your jimmy as a toothbrush while you were playing quake. FRAG!

But wait, what am I saying? I should be happy for my “friend” right? I mean, he’s found a soul mate and a convenient to place to make sperm deposits. Hey, they’re open on Sundays! Now that he feels more “like a man” he turns to me and has the audacity, the gall, the outright nerve to ask me “when I’ll get lucky”.

I had barely begun detailing my strategy when incomes a tsunami of advice and opinions. Lo and behold, my once humble friend has erupted into an infuriating volcano of pick-up strategies and sex advice. Roll out the red carpet for captain crass, cock of the century. If this guy’s head were any bigger Steve Jobs would be jealous. Maybe we could set him up with a spot on the WWF with all the other juice swilling roid monkeys and he could relentlessly taunt, brag and gloat over how freaking great he is. Oh my, look! The Rock is bashing him over the head with a metal chair! OOH, it’s Stonecold in from the dressing room with a flying clothesline!! Wheee!!! Aaahh, err, um … sorry I got a bit carried away there. Any way you slice it, my once great friend is now less fun than a bath in broken beer bottles. The more he rambles on about how fantastic a couple they are, the more obvious it is to me that this can’t last forever…

And then she was gone, maybe it was his boyish sense of humor that drove her away, or the smell of his feet after his socks made their way to the laundry hamper. Could it be that she’s not into nightly bouts of Tony Hawk while washing back corn nuts with a reservoir of beer? Naa, who couldn’t love that. The point is she’s gone now and boo-hoo, how can his life continue without her. So he pines about her, whines about her, talks about how good it was and how perfect they were together. He’s calling you every hour now, just to talk, you know.

What are you to do? You swallow your pride and welcome him back into the guy circle. He pretends like nothing happened, like he was always there for you, totally oblivious to the upset he’s caused. You assert yourself and mention, “bros before ho’s”, hoping his tiny capacitor brain is registering a charge. You forgive him and life goes on, that is, until the next piece of ass catches his eye.


  • Bros b4 Ho’s
  • by The Jerky Bastard
  • Published on March 1st, 2001

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