Monday, July 16, 2012

Bon Appetit: Breakfast in Bed


I'll never ask how you like your eggs in the morning,
Cause eggs aren't what you'll be eating,
The morning after.

Wednesday, July 11, 2012

Brostyle: Men are better than women


"The study surveyed 327 straight British men, more than a third of whom were single, and discovered that the more muscular the participant, the more likely he was to have sexist beliefs and hostility toward women. Yikes!"

Yikes? More like "Yay".

How fucking long is it going to take women to realize their place in life? Of course our muslces mean we're better than you.  Protein is power.  You ladies have your emotions and feelings, and when's the last time that's gotten you anywhere? 

Do you think America was born from the will of vaginas? Last time I checked, it's called history and, no, America wasn't built by the lesser sex.  I'm pretty sure every fucking person who signed the Declaration of Independence had a dick, the longest of course belonging to the one and only John Hancock.  Fuck yeah history.  Even though you motherfuckers lost the war against us, cheers to you, the surveyed British men who have it right.

The only thing this article got right was how women shouldn't try to date a muscular guy, because efforts will be futile.  Ladies, you don't date us, we just do you.

So the next time you shove stupid artcles that begin with "Science Says" in our fucking faces again, why don't you XXs watch it and remember we've got the XY and that's enough to make us better than you.

Sunday, July 1, 2012

Brostyle: Don't be Brocist


Why do you constantly question our day drinking? Why are you asking me again and again on why we wear our bro tanks? Why are you asking us these stupid fucking questions that insult our way of life? Ey! Why you hatin'?

Don't be insulting us.  We're future pros.  Ask us those questions again and let's see if we hire your ass when you apply for the companies that we'll be C.E. fucking Os of.  It's not our faults that our grandpappies' got respected establishments and that we've got a shit ton of connections that you can't buy with the money you'll never have. Hey, we've got an idea for a game you and us can play.  Let's compare how many connections we've got on Linkedin and see who wins.

Stop being such a prissy bitch and being all jealous and shit.  Continue that and you might as well be a sorority sister or Taylor Swift (go write a song about your tears and feelings).  Everyone knows you only hate on us because you want our beef temples of sex as your own.  You're just bitter 'cause you can't foreclose this and liquidate the benefits for yourself.  You ain't the banking system.  You're just a Pillsbury dough boy who enjoys walks on the beach, cooking with your mommy, and playing John Mayer on your guitar while tears roll down your left eye.  How intimate.

So the next time you see us letting our guns breathe under the sun while day drinking and reeling in our hits of the day, why don't you take a good look at yourself, cry about how you aren't us, and see how you can get on our level, if you can.  And the next time you compare our grades with yours, just remember, we all fucked your slam piece of a mother.  Oh, and that lobster bisque she made you yesterday for dinner? Sucked our dicks last afternoon and used the jizz to make your bisque.  Bon appetit, bitch.

Richie Understands


 No one wants to fuck a gaping hole unless its your asshole.