Bro Code, A Fallacy

With the recent explosion of a code book written for guys has gone completely viral. With numerous websites completely devoted to it, and off-swings everyone has heard of it.

This list of laws comes from a famous character, Barney Stinson from the Television series How I Met Your Mother. Stinson is a serial womanizer and has a plethora of strategies and rules designed to meet women, sleep with them, and discard them.

‘Bro Code’ is thrown around an absolutely extreme amount, oftentimes used inappropriately and out blatantly wrong. We’ve all heard it at least once this week, and it in my opinion is completely false. I’m not saying it doesn’t have its good points but… well most of them are bad. Basically it is a term that guys use to claim the authority to make rules for all to follow because law dictates. We’re not in kindergarten anymore; let’s stop with making rules for everything.

If anything it is an incomplete list of guidelines, and not a thing more. There are however a few things that denote law status amongst men, these are things you all agree on amongst friends, you don’t need an internet phenomenon to decide these for you.

Making out with a best friend’s (Bro’s) ex girl friend according to some is against code, in actuality it depends on the situation.

1. The two parties had been dating for a significant time of a year or longer seriously, and by seriously generally a high-school relationship doesn’t count. Don’t do it, you don’t want those sloppy 100’s, plus if he’s been your friend for that long it’s just wrong.
2. The two parties had been dating for less than a year and have had a few issues along the way, breaking up and getting back together, it’s a moral dilemma. In reality it’s fair to wait several months before you make your move on the girl, it helps if your friend is banging other girls at this point.
3. The two parties had been dating for several months, broke up for a whopping three months and get back together. (So much for situation 2, eh!) They tried to work it out, cute really, we hated each other the first time let’s see how much we hate each other the second time! Look! It didn’t work out the second time either in record time, a few weeks. You’ve got to ask yourself, was your friend the one who initiated the break up? Or is he completely beside himself tears dripping from those manly cheeks? If he initiated it, or it was mutual and he’s fine with it. Go for it, otherwise, stay clear, ask him if it’s alright if you’re that kind of person; I commend you. In complete reality though, these are only guidelines, you KISSED, swapped spit, met the tonsils, and risked mono. You haven’t killed anyone. Yet.

If you’ve had this happen and your pal apologized, good for him. You can be angry and upset to a point. If you respect this friendship then you should shrug it off. A friendship that can be lost never began. Be honoured, you obviously chose an attractive gal that even your friends were jealous of.

I’m not telling you to go out and mess with all of your pal’s ex’s. It’s highly likely that they broke up for a reason, and you’ll know from the stories: She can’t make sandwiches, is a complete psycho, a stage 5 clinger, amongst a plethora of other issues. If these aren’t qualities you’re looking for, and I’m assuming you hang out with guys much like yourself; don’t waste your time it’s going to get messy.

To many having sex on a friends couch is against ‘Bro Code’, it’s the complete opposite of this, ALWAYS let your friend use your couch. Do not cock block him. Most times, this rule is made up because your friend doesn’t want your spunk on his genuine leather upholstering. Simple fix, bring a blanket and lays it down, this way you also do not have to risk rolling in his legions of white men.

Some Bro Code items that make sense:

1. Always back your friends when they need help.
2. Always reimburse consumed beers, depending on how often this occurrence is, multiply by 2, or 8.
3. Don’t puke, or piss on your friends bed, why were you in their bed in the first place?

When deciding if ‘Bro Code’ is for you, think of this. If your friend is going to be a child about it, you likely broke his rules; you’re in the wrong in his books. Otherwise, you’re all one happy family.

Differentiation Between “Sluts” and “Whores”

First off ladies, lets remove the negative connotation of both of the terms. While we’re at it, let’s stop throwing these at each other.

“Look at that slut!”

Women who throw around these derogatory terms to each other are just super insecure. Calling a girl a whore or a slut because she’s getting it in tonight and you aren’t is pure jealousy. Calling her a whore because she sells her body? Fine, but she’s using what she’s got, don’t hate on it.

Sluts:

Sluts can be defined by women or even men who have sex with people. Who cares if they’re practicing reproduction? I’m sure you’re saying to yourself “Well that’s gross, what a dirty tramp.” Well let me tell you, more often than not the “Sluts” are the girls that give a shit about hygiene, their make-up is done they’re wearing tight ass clothes to keep us guys happy. That doesn’t sound dirty to me, and even if it was would you turn down a night of sheet wrestling with a featherweight champ? No. Sex is fun and if you disagree, have fun. Welcome to College kiddies.

Whores:

Whores are actually defined as a prostitute; arguably anyone who uses sex or their sexuality to receive personal gain. These could include money, food, shelter, provisions for a child. In many cases, girls in college don’t need anything from you. Except maybe those eleven shots you just bought them because they showed off their cleavage. And that makes you a sucker. She’s not going to bang you because you bought her a beer.

Girls will be girls, some are sluts and some are whores. There is no in between, you’re in college why wouldn’t you be promiscuous and available? You’ve got four years to make as many horrible decisions as possible, while having the most fun you possibly could. So what she just made out with that dude who is dating someone, don’t be mad at her; he probably didn’t tell her he was taken. And even if he did, was it your boyfriend? No. And if it was you have way bigger fish to fry then calling the girl a slut because your boyfriend is a scummy douche.

Sex is great; before bed, in the morning, between classes, after class, and if you don’t care if the people actually trying to pay attention during the lecture during class. It’s great to waste time, or even to lift the weight of the midterm you’re going to bail because you had eleven to many shots the night before. Calling a girl a slut but recognizing its normal is fine. Guys don’t give a shit whether you act like a slut or a whore, as long as the pocket book isn’t hurting. We’re here to have fun, and like I mentioned earlier, sex is fun.

“All she does is have one night stands, she’s such a slut”

“She’s not afraid to have a little fun, man I wish it was as easy to get laid for dudes.”

Chapter One: Nose Bleeds

Tim Adair

The room was an eruption of movement. Pens moved quickly scratching on paper, filling the stark white pages as they were being dictated to. At the front of the room stood an old man, large glasses filling his face of wisdom. Near the back of the room sat a young man, curly blonde hair creating wings from having a black hat perched on his head. He wore a black sweater rolled up to the elbow, a pair of cargo shorts and an aged, worn pair of Doc Martins, they were unlaced making the tongue flop forward from lack of support. A headphone wire dangled from his ear, music could faintly be heard from the tiny speaker inside. “Psst, Derek, iPod now, I’m bored.” The young man turned to face the speaker. This young man was called Adam, he and Derek had been friends since elementary school. “Krizzit, turn around, Derek that means you too keep writing; Headphones out gentlemen.” shouted a voice from the front of the room.

Derek turned around with a smirk playing on his lips. Krizzit was a nickname that Derek had received when he was in elementary school. He was quite young when he got the nickname; Adam had dared him to stick his finger into a power outlet for a piece of gum. Derek was a pretty brave kid at the time, so he did it. Krizzit is the sound people say he made as the electrical current jolted through his small body. Derek didn’t remember much from the accident but he survived with only a few faint scars on his right forearm. The scared were barely noticeable, only when you looked very closely did you see them.

…

Adam’s voice filled my hearing, in a hoarse whisper” Derek iPod now, I’m bored.” I turned to face him, and with a quick gesture I tossed him my iPod. “Krizzit, turn around, Derek that means you too keep writing; Headphones out gentlemen.” Spinning back forward I looked on the blank piece of paper sitting on my desk. Abstract lines were drawn on the corners, it’s just what I do, every piece of paper has these abstract lines, and I’ve been doing it since the accident. The soft ticking of the clock filled my senses. My hand sent a shiver up my whole body, “Damn it, Adam do you have any tissue?” I whispered. The sensation was the same every time. My arm would begin to go numb, the feint veiny scars became more prominent, and my nose would begin to bleed.

The soft feel of a balled up tissue brushed against my ear. Doctors weren’t sure why these odd symptoms occurred but they did, but that didn’t mater to me they told my parents I wouldn’t live after the accident. “Mr. Wilifred, Can I go? My nose is beleedin’ again.” Mr. Wilifred nodded me to leave. I quickly excused myself to from the classroom. Blood was beginning to fill the balled up tissue. I quickly jogged to the bathroom, my nose bleed shave been known to knock me out due to blood loss. I kicked the door of the bathroom as I hurried to the sink. Blood began to free flow the second I turned on the tap.

I looked at the mirror, and all that filled my vision was a serious boy staring at me over my shoulder. His violet eyes tore through my body making all the nerves in my body to be on edge. “Got a problem?” I mumbled with all of the force I could muster. No answer. I looked back to the blood that had stopped running down my face. I heard a faint click as I saw a long slender piece of moist wood that looked extremely sharp. “Give me your arm, Derek.” I reluctantly held out my right arm. “This will hurt.” I flinched as the tingling sensation numbed my arm. I looked down at my arm; he had scrawled some weird symbols on my forearm:

ᛈᚱᛟᛏᛖᚲᛏᛁᛟᚾ ᛒᚱᚨᚹᛖᚱᛇ ᛋᚹᛟᚱᛞᛈᚨᛚᛇ

“Here take these,” the boy said as he flourished three short blades towards me, “We have a fight to win my brother.” With that the boy kicked the bathroom door open, readying a blade in each hand as he did so. I cautiously followed him into the hall.