True Bromance

August 9, 2013

I’ve been feeling this way for a while.

I thought it was a temporary thing.

A phase.

A rebellion of sorts.

I figured this feeling would eventually go away.

Like a cold, or a migraine.

But this feeling isn’t going anywhere.

It’s actually getting worse.

I’m concerned this feeling is here to stay.

I’m just going to come out and say it (you might already know).

I’m infatuated with Bros.

I heart them.

And I don’t just love your typical Bro.

I’m intrigued by the Broiest Bros.

Note: Based on the research I’ve done, this technically makes me a “Bro Hoe.” Yes, the website I read this on actually spelled the word “hoe” like a garden tool, rather than “ho” like a prostitute – which amuses me even more than Bros. (For the record, I’m not technically a prostitute.)

Back to my feeling(s)…

I’m most magnetized by the Brofessors…the Brofessionals…the leaders of the Brommunity.

I’m so drawn to them I came up with a new word to add to my (and your) Brocabulary. I’m serious. I’m the author. I made it up. I hatched it. I brought it into being.

I’m about to blow your mind (if all this Bromance/Hoe talk hasn’t already)…

After a seriously steamy trip to Target (I had to pick up a bucket and assorted knee high socks to go under my walking cast/boot/thing), I went to Safeway to buy a singing Disney princess balloon for my friend Scott (he just celebrated his 40th birthday). On my way to Safeway, I was talking to another friend that was telling me how disturbing she found my obsession with Bros. Then she said she loved my face and asked me to meet her for lunch. I worked instead of going to lunch (I’ve been so grown up this week)…but I couldn’t get the Bros off my brain.

I got to thinking about the progression of a Bro.

First, there are Baby Bros.

I’m only mentioning these Broddlers because they exist. No matter who (or what) you are, you had to start somewhere. Some Baby Bros are sweet (because they’re still babies). Most Baby Bros are not (because they’re still babies).

Then there are Bros.

Amateur hour is over. They’ve got more than a few notches in their belt (to say the least).

Some Bros naturally emerge as leaders, legends even.

Like Broseidon, Almighty Ruler of the Brocean, these Bros are immortal. Their skills, their stories, their insatiability – stand the test of time.

These, my friends, are…wait for it…BROUGARS (this is MY word).

They are Bros with A WORLD OF EXPERIENCE.

They’re kind of like Cougars.

But they’re also Bros.


If you haven’t truly grasped the definition of a “Bro” – Urban Dictionary will assist you. You might also want to search for images (you’re welcome).

If you aren’t sure about the definition of a “Cougar” – well – leave some Rombauer chardonnay on your front porch. You’ll see what I mean.

Most importantly…


I know you don’t want to love Bros.

I get it.

You don’t have to love them.

But before I finish this post, I’m going to give you a few things to mull over.

I’m going to give you a few reasons to consider going PRO BRO.

1. Bros prefer lean meats and vegetables.

2. Bros are pet friendly.

3. Bros don’t mind when you make this face.

4. When Bros make you breakfast, you don’t have to worry about consuming any carbs.

5. All Bros play hard. Some Bros work hard (see evidence below). Bros wear tank tops when they play and work hard.

6. Bros like, wear and share bright colors.

7. Bros go BIG on the bubbly.

(Photo Courtesy of M Portraits Photography, Taken at Vanguard)

8. Bros are creative on the dance floor. The deep, thumping bass seizes their core.

(Photo Courtesy of The Situation)

I’m almost done.

I only have a few more things to tell you.

Thanks to your sound advice Damien, I’m now the proud owner of Brougar AND (because two Brougars are better than one).

I’m currently looking for sponsors and investors to help me build and launch the site.

You’re all invited to the launch party.

There will be TONS of Fireball (Brougar Juice).

This kind of brilliance is going to make me a millionaire.

I’m going to have more money (and balls) than Tony Bromo.





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