"Frat House," best jockumentary of all-time

Thought “Old School” was the best frat film ever? Nah, bra– do yourself a solid and check out Todd Phillips’s other one, “Frat House,” the true account of a totally fratavistic animal named Blossom (absolutely no relation to this Blossom). He’s first seen destroying a beer pong table and roid raging, “That’s what the fuck I do! I’ll fuckin’ break anybody’s face! ANYBODY’S FUCKIN’ FACE!” Then he describes rush week, which involves a lot of brojectile vomit: “We throw up on one another... We eat pizza that’s disgusting with Ex-lax all over it...” Best part, though, is when Blossom goes rapeshit on the documentary crew and makes the best threat of all-time: “RIGHT NOW I’M GONNA COME OVER THERE AND HAZE YOU. STAY IN YOUR FUCKIN’ HOUSE AND CALL THE COPS BECAUSE IF YOU DON’T I’M GONNA FUCKIN’ KILL YOU.” And later: “DO YOU FUCKIN’ UNDERSTAND ME? SAY, ‘YES BLOSSOM, I FUCKIN’ UNDERSTAND YOU,’ OTHERWISE I’M GONNA MAKE YOU DO PUSH-UPS AND HAZE YOU, YOU LITTLE PRICK.” As this article describes, HBO never aired the movie because the second half (about a Pennsylvania frat led by a bro named Dragon) may have been staged, but the Blossom stuff is about as real as it gets. And let it be known-- if you even think about giving Brocabulary anything less than five stars on Amazon, I'M GONNA FUCKIN HAZE YOU!!!!!

Guidon't Go to Sleazside Heights

Funny or Die hits up the Jersey Shore and comes back with beach footage that’s way more horrifying than those Montauk monster photos. It seems to have been filmed at Joey Harrison’s Surf Club in Sleazside, er, Seaside Heights. If there’s one thing you learn from Brocabulary, let it be this: Guidon’t! Guys, guidon’t spend twenty minutes frosting your hair like Brendan does. Guidon’t hit the gym till you’re totally pecsessive like Mike. And girls, guidon’t celebrate “juiceheads” like Jen does— you don’t want to be a bag hag who only dates douchebags. And above all, for the good of mankind, guidon’t threaten to reprodouche like the guy who says he’s going to raise his kid to be a bouncer.

Cleavaluation Occurs in 'Role Models'

Christopher Mintz-Plasse, better known as McLovin, is starring in a new bro comedy, “Role Models” that features two bro-movie veterans, Sean William Scott and Paul Rudd as energy drink promoters who are forced to be “big brother” types as part of their community service. The trailer shows Scott breastimating a woman and teaching a little kid how to discretely take advantage of a gawkertunity. “Never stare at the boobies, kid,” he advises. “You don’t think I’ve noticed the 34-Cs directly to the left of us?” For more advice on cleavaluating a woman without getting “busted,” buy Brocabulary.

Bromosexuality Abounds in 'Pineapple Express'

Didn’t think it could get any more bromosexual than Seth and Evan cuddling in “Superbad”? Seth Brogen and his bro-writer Evan Goldberg have one-upped themselves with “Pineapple Express,” in which Saul and his bro Dale simulate buttsex while trying to get each other out of restraints. “I’ll finish you off with my mouth,” says Dale. Oh, damn— bro job. And this is after Saul tells Dale, during one of their many marijuanversations, “They say don’t dip your pen in the company ink. I’m glad I dipped in your ink, bro.” Then there’s weed dealer Red, a wanna-g who calls Saul and Dale his bromosexuals. When he brotrays them, a neanderbrawl erupts in his apartment that ends with him getting smashed with a Jewish water pipe called the “bong Mitzvah.” Harsh. Red eventually admits, “I forgot—bros before hos,” and after much fellodrama, the three end up bro-hugging it out. In the movie’s brobligatory dude-umont, the three amigos agree to be BFFFs (“Best Fucking Friends Forever, man!”) and Red says, “I’m getting a boner,” prompting Dale to ask, “Is that a condo? Is that us moving into an apartment together? I love you guys.” Lesson here: As long as you’ve got multiple knife and bullet wounds when you say this stuff, it’s not gay.

Brolympic Sports - Olympic sports it's ok to watch with your bro

The Olympics start on August 8 and while certain sports are safe to watch with your bros on the frat-screen t.v. while you mock any country that isn't the U. S. of F'ing A., there are others that you’re better off watching with chicks if only to say, “You consider field hockey a sport? I’d like to put these girls on the ice with Alexander Ovechkin for five minutes.” Here’s a handy navigation guide.

BROPACETIC - Safe to watch with your bros:
Boxing - Until cage fighting with flaming boxcutters is approved by the pantywaists on the Olympic committee, this is definitely the broiest and bloodiest of the brofessional sports.
Beach Volleyball - Who cares if those sports bras cause egregious cleavaporation, the chicks are still half-nekkid.
Soccer - What the rest of the world calls “football” may not be as ballsy as actual football, but remember that in other countries it's an excuse to become a raving fanimal with no respect for personal property or human life. Be prepared to beat your bro down when he gets pissed that you celebrated a goal by emptying your beer cup all over his living room.
Judo - This samurai shit is way better than simple wrestling because the outfits aren’t as dicksturbing (they don’t show off as much moose knuckle) and you can do foul shit like choke your opponent and break his limbs.
Water polo - Probably the most badass water sport, unless your definition of water sports includes pissing in someone’s face.
Shooting - Guns. Nuff said. Perhaps the guydol of the sport is Karoly Takacs, who, after getting his right hand blown off by a grenade, taught himself to shoot left-handed and snagged two gold metals.
Table tennis - No, none of they players are as hot as the Asian chick in Balls of Fury, but you might at least pick up some beer pong moves.


TOTAL NO-BROS
Diving - Only really interesting when it goes horribly wrong (think Faces of Death).
Syncronized Swimming - There’s a reason Disney is doing a male synchronized swimming comedy. Do not watch unless stoned.
Gymnastics - Since most of the chicks are pre-pubers, peeping their camel toe is just going to make you feel wrong.
Equestrian - Horseriding is lame unless it’s jousting and there’s the possibility that someone will get hoss-tossed and turned into mincemeat. Skip this shit.
Trampoline - Totally pointless since the chicks don’t wear skirts, making dresspionage impossible. Sex on a trampoline is, of course, a different story.
Fencing - Despite the Clockwork Orange-type suits, this sport comes down to one word: Douché.
Field hockey - If you’re a leg man, the uniforms offer a lot of legscitement, but the sport gets old after the first two or three panty flashes.
Softball - Ok to play with your company team if you have beer, not ok under any circumstances to watch.
Archery - Skip it. Unless, of course, it’s Ted Nugent shooting his guitar with a flaming arrow. Fucking awesome.

Fembrace Yourself for 'From G's to Gents'

While you wait for “Bromance” to hit the airwaves, check out a new bro show, “From G’s to Gents,” in which Diddy’s bro Fonzworth Bentley teaches a bunch of G’s (ok, some of them are “wanna-Gs”) how to treat women and each other with respek. At the end of each show, the contestants— who have dudeonyms like D-Boy and J Boogie— get “blackballed” (not what it sounds like!) and kicked out of the Gentleman’s Club if they do stuff like show up to a job interview wearing anything less than a cloutfit. In an early episode, everything is bropacetic until one of the Gs threatens to do another one’s mother (clearly a violation of brotocol), but where there’s fellodrama there’s also genuine he-motion— at one point Mr. Bentley tells Cee the oxycotton addict “I love you too bro, I love you” while giving him what comes dangerously close to being a fembrace (see photo). In next week’s episode a bunch of chicks visit the house— it’ll be interesting to see how these bros handle the sitch, especially the heteroflexual male stripper who freely admits, “I got a problem with women.” Don’t let Mr. Bentley phase you, bro.

Is "The Greatest Man That Ever Lived" The Greatest Manthem That Ever Was?

Weezer’s newish song “The Greatest Man That Ever Lived” may be the greatest manthem of all-time. Why? Well, for one, it contains lines like “I’m the baddest of the bad / I’m the best that you’ve ever had / I’m the tops, I’m the king / All the girls get up when I sing.” Sounds like your average rap song, right? Except, dude! Rivers “I’m No Homo” Cuomo takes it a step further by pairing this braggadocio with all sorts of crazy musical stylings that range from Kid Rock-type power chords, to Radiohead-type strumming, to a Civil War-type hymn (“After the havoc that I’m going to reep / “No more words will critics have to speak”), to some King Missile-type spoken word: “If you don’t like it you can shove it / But you don’t like it you love it.” There’s even some acapella in there, which as “Brohemian Rhapsody” and “Afternoon Delight” prove, is the mark of any great manthem. Listen to this shit.

The Bromantic Comedy of "Step Brothers"

Brofoonery was a symptom of adolescence in “Superbad,” but in Judd Apatow’s new one “Step Brothers,” he acknowledges that broing down is something that’s totally cool to do well into your forties. Immediately after Dale and Brennan meet they give themselves ridiculous dudeonyms— “Nighthawk” and “Dragon.” Early in the game, Brennan violates brotocal by rubbing his nutsack on Dale’s drums, a sacktical joke that results in a neanderbrawl on the front lawn. But after they manalyze each other and discover they have the same favorite dinosaur, they decide, “Did we just become best friends? YUP!” Brennan is impressed by Dale’s pornucopia of Hustlers with porn-on dates in the 1970s (“It’s like masturbating in a time machine!”). Next thing they’re guyamese twins, even interviewing for jobs together. It’s the start of a dude-iful thing.

Then Brennan’s brother Derek shows up, douchebragging about fishing for bonito and lamedropping names like Mark Cuban. He’s a classic power tool, and is totally brawndescending to Brennan and Dale when he tells them they can’t touch his abs. Meanwhile instead of getting a job, Brennan and Dale spend all their time brocrastinating, sitting around the house in a state of deep guybernation that involves watching Shark Week. They totally malienate their parents, driving them away with their brohavior. Of course, none of this plays well with the ladies, but when Dale clocks Brennan’s obnoxious brother while he’s being a grasshole (a dick even though he’s stoned), he totally ups his cock stock with the guy’s wife. The brothers part ways, but brostalgia brings them back to each other, and the end of the movie involves a touching remix of the manthem “Boats and Hoes,” a celebration of bangria, guygestion, and spewmiliation. Check it out above.

More Fellodrama between Tim, Eric, and Zach

Zach Galifianakis has uploaded the third of his Absolut ads. In this one fellodrama again erupts, this time when Tim and Eric bring some floozies to a bros-only “snack function.” Guylarious!

Philippinebros Love Brocab, Will "Bromance" Out-Bro "I Love NY"?

An article in the Philippine Star generously credits Brocabulary for the “the profilieration — or (cough) broliferation — of bro culture” and points out that bro-talk will be in full swing come September, when Brody Jenner of The Hills unleashes his reality show “Bromance.” It’ll feature “dudes competing for a chance to be one of Brody’s homeys — you know, going on group dates, getting alone time with the B, and doing other things that straight guys do when instant fame comes a-knockin’.” There will be a Hot Tub Elimination Ceremony.

Question is, will “Bromance” approach the levels of “Shot at Love With Tila Tequila” and “I Love New York”? Check out the above clip of 12-Pack and Heat, from the latter show, totally broblivious to how gaysted they are. This has to be the most pecsessive moment in reality history, as Heat loses his speakquilibrium and slurs to his dickini-wearing bro: “You have the best body in this fucking place. Just for the fact that you can lift weights, and smoke cigarettes, and just for the fact that you can do backflips while smoking a cigarette…” Classic example of two dudes “broing the line.”

Is "Get some, bro!" the new "Do it!"?

HBO has a new bro show and it ain’t quite as happy-bro-lucky as Entourage, the one before it. Generation Kill is a solid hour of life in the testosterzone. Pretty much every marine in this Band of Bros makes Ari Gold look like Miss Manners, but the best-in-bro might be Rip Fuel-chugging, Elvis-glasses wearing Cpl. Josh Ray Person: “Why can’t we ever invade a cool country, with like chicks in bikinis… I’ll tell you why... This whole thing comes down to pussy. You take the Republican guard and comp their ass for a week in Vegas, no fucking war.” (True, they'd be totally banguine-- sanguine due to banging checks on the regular.) Or: “Colbert is out here rolling around futtbuck Iraq hunting for dragons in a MOPP suit that smells like four days of piss and ball sweat.” (The dreaded choderiferousness of cloth broth). If you want to know what a MOPP suit is, by the way, there’s a glossary here.

At one point Person says there ought to be a grammar test before you can go to Iraq to blow things up and his bro “Iceman” Colbert tells him, “If they did that then fucking buck toothed, cross-eyed, sister fucking hicks like you wouldn't get in either.” So why is spurnacular such a crucial element of warfare? The show’s military adviser explains it like this: “You get a bunch of alpha males all jammed up together with a lot of time on their hands and this is the way they test each other,” he tells the Daily News. “How do you one-up shooting somebody in the face with a 556? You pick apart his race. You pick apart that he's got really soft skin and you think he’s gay. You pick apart whatever you can that you think will get underneath his skin.” Totally, bro.

That said, it's probably "Get some!" that's the show's most irresistible catchphrase. Will it be the next "Do it!"? Probably not. But should you use it the next time you're hitting the keg? ABSOLUTELY.

Brotastic ESPN Commercials

In this brodacious ad, a longtime listener shows his ESPN-thusiasm by giving Michael Kay a bro hug, doing the “brobot,” and then “BOOM! make it explode!!” Also check out the alternate ad in which Glen shows his guydol the “sizzling bacon.”

More brocabulary in Sportscenter commercials:

Dan Patrick gives Steve Austin some brotivation while he’s studying for an exam.

Grant Hill, in turn, brotivates Patrick by tinkling the ivories.

Junior Ortiz brotrays Wally the Green Monster by wearing a Yanks cap.

"The Boston Three Party" proves, as advised in Brocabulary, that you shouldn't try to come up with your own dudeonym.

Some NBA-holes start a big buddy program (aka a brogram).

An amateur shows a lack of fandiloquence by “talking out of his ass” about sports.

And a true classic: Alexi Lalas gets schooled big-time for singing a bannedthem.

Dude-vertising is getting ridiculous

A veteran ad guy recently pointed out that “ladvertising” is on the rise. Just look at the new ads for Gold Bond and Absolut vodka, or this total snuff-porn cachaca ad by hotographer Mario Testino. It’s no surprise that a razor company would launch a series of “Bic FliXXX” in which, for instance, a dude pops some fake tits with his beard stubble, but even chick drink Mike’s Hard Lemonade is appealing to “fat guys” in their new ads (and offering free grills and RTVs in a contest). And here’s when you know things have really gotten out of hand: bro-author Tom Lombardi has released a trailer for his sci-fi book, My Summer on Earth, in which a badonkahonk (a white girl with a big ass) shakes it while he reads. Sci-fi is usually a total no-bro, but we trust someone who, as you can see, does all of his writing while surfing, shooting stick, and working out. Dude even got the word “douche” in there! Nice one, bro.

Brobama Wins - Celebrate with the "Never Had A Shot" T-Shirt

Throw out that “Bros Before Hoes” t-shirt— Hillary is outee 5000 and now it’s all about Brobama. Chances are your Hillary-supporter friends are devastated, weeping openly as if someone just asked them, “How do you do it?” Should you be a gentleman and place a sympathetic hand on their shoulder? Hell no, bro! It’s in your nature to rub weakness in the face of those who’ve failed, and what better way to douchebrag than with an ironic t-shirt? The “NEVER HAD A SHOT” tee— a nod to Hillary’s shitshow campaign and her pussyish drink order of Crown Royal— is now for sale in a variety of styles. Or were you going to give that $8.99 to your favorite man-idate? Forget it, bro. Order now!

NSFJ - Porn that's Not Safe For Jerk

Just like you sometimes open a photo of a cute kitten and it turns out to be hardcore pussy (not safe for work!), there are times when what you think is going to be a jacktastic JPEG turns out to be a gay-peg of Mexican wrestlers (whoa, not safe for jerk). Or maybe you buy a videotape that turns out to be cornography-- more cheesy than sleazy. Here are some signs of NSFJ porn:

Dicksruptions: It's very dicksturbing when a penis unexpectedly appears in a shot (or in the case of Brazilian porn, on a chick).

Scare-dos: Vile styles such as mullets, perms, rattails, and bouffants. Particularly egregious if the porn star is a Rosstafarian who takes grooming cues from Bob Ross.

Pubic offenders: Bizarre or excessive pubes, especially in the form of “topiary bushes.”

Punning commentary: While going at it, a guy cracks jokes like, “I’m like a wide receiver, I ‘go deep’!” His bro chips in, “No man, she’s the wide receiver!” and they guy-five each other.

Porn scars: The wince-inducing remnants of a C-section; or boob-job scars that make a girl’s tits look like Zip-lock bags.

Boomerwangs: Curved dicks.

Knock pocks: Under-the-tit indentations from a bad boob job.

Blow flies: Flies that get into the shot during a BJ scene, a sign of rank amateur porn.

Chances are, if you buy a magazine at a gas station and it's part of a $3.99 shrink-wrapped '3-pack', it's not safe for jerk. Sure the girl on the cover of "Poonanny" might be smoking hot, but open it and you'll discover that the title refers to grannies covered in poo. Peep booths are also NSFJ-- with 5,000 channels to choose from, one of them is bound to traumatize you for life. If you do get snookered into buying NSFJ porn, there's only one thing to do: Give it to your bro for his birthday.

Brohemian Rhapsody, greatest manthem of all-time?

This College Humor classic starts with "I'm just a frat boy..." and only gets 'perber from there.

Hard-On Scorcese - A bro who puts the erect in director

Anyone can make a tittieotape or a clittieotape of their girlfriend, and if you're super artsy like Vincent Gallo you can even make a cockumentary of her blowing you, but this dude, discovered by Joshua David Stein, is a true visionary for using his Nintendo for something that's totally not Wiitarded.

Buttweiser - This butt's for you!

Entre-perv-neur - A sick fuck who makes big bucks

In this pretty choice cartoon, American Crapparel CEO Dov Charney calls leotard wearers “tards” and offers chicks mustache rides (literally!) Obviously, this dude is every bro’s guydol. He’s not quite an entre-porn-eur like Hugh Hefner or Larry Flynt— instead he exists in a semi-respectable but equally lucrative softcore world (like Mr. Skin). Become a pervocateur and you might be embraced by the mainstream (think Harold Stern circa “Private Parts,” or the South Park guys circa “Bigger, Longer, Uncut”) but Nota Boner: You might just as easily end up getting sued by underage chicks, having your jet confiscated, and getting (your salad) tossed in the slammer like Joe Francis. It’s hard out there for a brand pimp.

Brofoonery - Buffoonery committed with your bros

And chicks say we're always trying to get into their pants...

Brollerskating featured in Flight of the Conchords premiere

If there's one thing you take away from the new video for "Ladies of the World," let it be this: "Two guys rollerskating is way hotter than just one."

Fauxcaine, when the real stuff isn't around

When there's no brocaine around, sometimes you just gotta snort whatever’s there—whether it’s a worm or wasabi a la Steve-O, vodka a la Prince Harry, or your father’s ashes a la Keith Richards. In addition to being friggin hilarious when you do it at the library, ingesting a line of fauxcaine shows your bros that even if your brain doesn’t really have fancy-schmancy cognitive abilities, it’s at least capable of taking a direct hit of milk, ice cream sherbet, or salt (followed by a shot of tequila and a lime spritz to the eye for “extreme tequila”). This puts you a cut above "all the girls in line for the bathroom" who do hocaine. It's not quite as ballsy as shnozing an anchovy, but the above video, viewable via this link, has to be the single most brotastic hoovering of all time: "I’m snortin’ an egg bro. That’s all we do, bro."

Choderiforous? Try Gold Bond Medicated Powder

Gold Bond, Larry King’s favorite, is courting bros with a nadvertisement that says it’s essential “for your equipment” (the spokesbro, straight out of GTA IV, does put that in air quotes). You can even “powder your friend” by sending them the ad. Thanks, but when it comes to guygiene products, we prefer our own invention: Choder Eaters— “for that nuts-so-fresh feeling.”

Bro-tel room offered by Four Seasons

The Four Seasons hotel is offering a special bromotion— stay there with your bro and they’ll give you some dude food, a round of palcohol, and some dick flicks. Sounds choice! But for $2,000 you’d expect a few more a-men-ities:

• A thongcierge that tells you where all the best strip clubs are, and a bongcierge that scores you the best weed


• A guyfi connection allowing you access to all the best porn sites
  
  


• A maxi-bar that, instead of those mini bottles of booze, contains the ridiculously huge ones you see in liquor store display windows
  
  


• 
  Instead of a bell hop, a belle ho who takes your bags up for you and then strips for tips.
  


• Maid service. As in, you get serviced by hot maids.
  
  


• A smack rack, or rack of porno mags, next to the toilet
  
  


• A medicine cabinet stocked with brologne like Old Spice and Axe Body Spray
  


• In-room gentertainment center consisting of a frat-screen tv, beer pong table, stripper pole, an X-Box, and skinoculars allowing you a closer look at the chicks lying around the pool.
  
  


• Furniture to smash.


• 
  In-house breastaurant called Benihooters, a combination of Benihana’s and Hooters where chefs with big knockers play with big knives.
  

Riding Mandem: Bro-Karts vs. Brollercoasters

Brotocol dictates that you leave a good foot between you and your bro at all times: Put a bag of Combos between you when you're watching the game on a sofa-- or brofa; employ a “buffer seat” at the movies. However sometimes, in order to heed the need for speed, you'll have to squeeze in guy-to-guy, thigh-to-thigh. It's a classic funundrum: Do you forgo the last go-kart just because it's a two-seater? or the last rollercoaster car just because cramming into it would mean having to brozy up? With summer coming soon, it's important to know when it's ok to ride side-by-side, or even sack-to-crack.

OK TO RIDE MANDEM:

• Brollercoasters


• Bro-karts


• Haunted house rides (as long as you punch anyone who jumps out at you in the nads)


• Parachutes


• Bobsleds (make sure to quote Junior from Cool Runnings: "I'm a badass mutha who won't take no crap off of nobody!")

NOT OK:

• Ferris wheels


• Hang gliders


• Browboats


• Bicycles (unless it's a tallbike)


• Gondolas, especially inside of tunnels of love

THINGS YOU CAN DO TO RELIEVE THE AWKWARDNESS OF RIDING MANDEM:

• Throw your bro's hat off of the ride


• Brojectile vomit on him

Palcohol downed by Tim, Eric, and Zach Galifianakis

In what has to be the ’perbest instance of palcohol consumption since the Superfriends added "Whaassssssup" to the lexicon, Absolut hired Tim & Eric (of aptly named Awesome Show) and Greek freak Zach Galifianakis to do an ad. In part one (above), all is bropacetic until fellodrama erupts. Part two, below, finds the trio serving as beach bleach and Galifianakis sporting a tard-on. Chances that after seeing this you'll scream "IT'S NOT FUNNY! DON'T TALK!" during your next drinking sesh: 100%.

Louchebag -- A douche who lives the louche life

Normally deebs are happy to wear J Crew or American Eagle but sometimes they show a higher level of douchefistication. They roll to the party in a $10,000 Douchey & Gabbana 3-piece thinking it's a "wet suit" that will make chicks burst out creaming. They'll wear a flashy "chotch watch" like a $80,000 Slimex (douche-water resistant!). Or they'll be really into what Betony Toht calls haberdouchery, wearing extremely toolish hats.

You have to hand it to a louchebag-- he often does get ass despite being such an ass. Sure, you can see right through his whole act (starting with his translucent silk shirt), but when he's tooling around in his 'baguar or his DB Cruiser, chicks are often willing to be taken for a ride. After all, looks can be doucheceiving-- they don't realize he's a wolf in chic clothing (“wolf” meaning, of course, a total sack-licker).

If you're at a party with a louchebag who's dressed head-to-toe in douchesigner crapparel, avoid the temptation to spill your Bud on the dude's duds-- it's not worth ruining the weasel's Deisels. Ask him what he drives. Pretend to give a shit, and then go out to the parking lot and "gimp his ride" by slashing his tires.

Slutty Marys - Bloody Marys that turn a girl to slutty putty; chicks who down them during brunch

It takes some real huevos to pick up a girl during brunch but like Pacino said, "On any given Sunday you're going to win or you're going to lose. The point is, can you win or lose like a man?" You'll need to "celery stalk" groups of chicks who are downing bloodys (in this one instance, virgins are a bad thing). Look for the one in the brunch bunch who isn't saying much, just nodding and fake smiling at the other Slutty Marys' tales of hooking up with the bartender last night. Send her a mimosa or two. Her friends will soon be "egging her on" to talk to you. Ask her out to dinner that night-- by the time you meet her five hours later she'll be rip-roarin', strip-whorin' drunk. All you'll have to say is, "How'd you like to taste my breakfast burrito?" Don't waffle: Remain firm in your resolve and it'll be "over easy"-- by nightfall you'll be nailing her while she "grits" her teeth.

Another option is to chill at a bar next to a popular brunch spot and "poach" any post-breakfast tipplers that come in. These lushes are usually jealous that their friends are spending the rest of the day with their boyfriends-- they're looking for anyone with a pulse to chat them up, take them home, and flip them over like a pancake.

So there you have it, bro-- it pays to be shady in broad daylight. Don't be surprised when you ask a chick if she wants to catch the rest of the game at your house and she says, "I'm easy like Sunday morning."

BONUS BRUNCH RECIPE: RUDY, TOOTIE, FRESH AND FRUITY

Take Keshia Knight Pulliam, who played Rudy on the "Cosby Show," add Kim Fields, who played Tootie on "The Facts of Life," and smother them in fruit sauce like they're breakfast at IHOP.

+ + = RUDY TOOTIE FRESH AND FRUITY

Grand Theft Grotto – A "bruv nest" in which you and your boys can get bromantic while playing GTA IV

Grand Theft Auto IV is out and it’s the biggest thing to happen to gaming since Crisco and nudity hit Twister. But don’t think you’re going to be the King of Dukes right off the bat. After two days of gameplay, the dudes at Vulture haven’t even managed to get into Manhattan. That’s some limp-wristed shit— and we’re not just talking about carpel tunnel. To really get somewhere in this game, you’ll have to go deep into guybernation. Here’s everything you'll need to create the right “fratmosphere”:

Frat-screen TV: A flatscreen that’s vagigantic enough for you and a couple dozen dudes to gather ’round for sports, porn, and, of course, GTA IV. You might even use a projector to create a “Wall of Game.”

Bropourri: Keep Febreze or some other form of potpourri around for when your pad starts getting choderiforous.

Gas flask: If your bros are unwilling to politely bottle their farts, cover your couch Patrick Bateman-style— It not only shields your furniture from absorbing natural gases, but it prevents a “Poppy’s sloppy”-type incident. The only track marks you want to see are the ones on the road.

Sheaf of “manus”: Takeout is croosh during gameplay (see “Swingers.”) But remember— Sushi is douchey. You shouldn’t be nibbling on edamame while you’re mowing down folks at Burger Shot.

Palcohol: Why do you think they renamed Jackson Heights “Cerveza Heights”? Play Grand Theft Blotto by doing a shot every time a cop tells you to get out of the car. Just make sure you have a puke pail around— sometimes sandbox graphics and Tequiza don’t mix.

Brocaine: Crushing Adderall into energy drinks will keep you up for a good twenty hours, but that’s not going to get you to the win screen. You’re going to need to ride the rails—and we’re not just talking about driving up onto the Screamer. Remember: “Blow is for bros.”

Trash gash: At a certain point your garbage can is going to overflow with Taco Bell wrappers and empties of Olde English. Why not kick a hole in your wall so you can just hurl refuse into it? If you’re lucky, rats will feast on the detritus till it’s gone, and you can always patch the hole back up when you’re ready to reintegrate.

Nintendo Wii: Chances are you know a “Wii-tard” who bought the system knowing that GTA IV wouldn’t be available for it and is now begging to come over and play it on your Xbox. That’s fine, but make it clear that his Wii is at stake: If he loses, you get the right to go Office Space on his inferior technology, using his Wii-mote as a Louisville Slugger.