Any Man who brings a camera to a bachelor party may be legally killed and eaten by his buddies.
Unless he murdered someone in your family, you must bail a friend out of jail within 12 hours.
If you’ve known a guy for more than 24 hours, his sister is off limits forever unless you actually marry her.
Moaning about the brand of free beer in a buddy’s fridge is forbidden. However complain at will if the temperature is unsuitable.
No man shall ever be required to buy a birthday present for another man.
On a road trip, the strongest bladder determines pit stops, not the weakest.
When stumbling upon other guys watching a sporting event, you may ask the score of the game in progress, but you may never ask who’s playing.
You may fart in front of a woman only after you have brought her to climax. If you trap her head under the covers for the purpose of fart entertainment, she’s officially your girlfriend.
It is permissible to drink a fruity alcohol drink only when you’re sunning on a tropical beach … And it’s delivered by a topless model and only when it’s free.
Only in situations of moral and/or physical peril are you allowed to kick another guy in the nuts.
Unless you’re in prison, never fight naked.
Friends don’t let friends wear Speedos. Ever. Issue closed.
If a man’s fly is down, that’s his problem, you didn’t see anything.
Women who claim they “love to watch sports” must be treated as spies
until they demonstrate knowledge of the game and the ability to drink as much as the other sports watchers.
A man in the company of a hot, suggestively dressed woman must remain sober enough to fight.
Never hesitate to reach for the last beer or the last slice of pizza, but not both, that’s just greedy.
If you compliment a guy on his six-pack, you’d better be talking about his choice of beer.
Never join your girlfriend or wife in discussing a friend of yours, except if she’s withholding sex pending your response.
Phrases that may NOT be uttered to another man while lifting weights:
A) Yeah, Baby, Push it!
B) C’mon, give me one more! Harder!
C) Another set and we can hit the showers!
Never talk to a man in a bathroom unless you are on equal footing (I.e., both urinating, both waiting in line, etc.). For all other situations, an almost imperceptible nod is all the conversation you need.
Never allow a telephone conversation with a woman to go on longer than you are able to have sex with her. Keep a stopwatch by the phone. Hang up if necessary.
The morning after you and a girl who was formerly “just a friend” have carnal, drunken monkey sex, the fact that you’re feeling weird and guilty is no reason for you not to nail each other again before the discussion occurs about what a big mistake it was.
It is acceptable for you to drive her car. It is not acceptable for her to drive yours.
Thou shalt not buy a car in the colours of brown, pink, lime green, orange or sky blue.
The girl who replies to the question “What do you want for Christmas?” with “If you loved me, you’d know what I want!” gets an Xbox. End of story.
There is no reason for guys to watch Ice Skating or Men’s Gymnastics. Ever.
We’ve all heard about people having guts or balls. But do you really know the difference between them? In an effort to keep you informed, the definition of each is listed below:
“GUTS” is arriving home late after a night out with The guys, being
assaulted by your wife with a broom, And having the guts to say, “are you still cleaning or are you flying somewhere?”
“BALLS” is coming home late after a night out with the guys smelling of perfume and beer, lipstick on your collar, slapping your wife on the ass and having the balls to say, “You’re next Fatty!”
Heh heh…I think you’ve nailed it. I’ve always found the American show of hyper-testosterone to be a bit creepy* due to the glaring subtext of denial that’s obvious to anyone on the outside who’s not an American NFL fan. It’s like they flirt at the notion of being a band of pirates on Sunday afternoons.
*Erm, not that there’s anything wrong with being gay, of course.
On # 28, my wife enjoys dragging me to watch Dance Sport. (You know, where couples in sparkly tights with fringes, and smiles like rigor mortis, do the foxtrot or tango as a form of competition?) I feel gay just for being there. I want to scream out “I’m just here to watch the crashes!”
If this means immediately afterward, then romance is truly dead.
Heh heh…I think you’ve nailed it. I’ve always found the American show of hyper-testosterone to be a bit creepy* due to the glaring subtext of denial that’s obvious to anyone on the outside who’s not an American NFL fan. It’s like they flirt at the notion of being a band of pirates on Sunday afternoons.
*Erm, not that there’s anything wrong with being gay, of course.[/quote]
Don’t be such a big girl’s blouse. One has to be at least half queer to even factor in the subliminal.
Let’s not even talk about the organized flamage that is rugby, or Aussie Fitbah.
A pack of men will soon degenerate to a pack of dogs. And all that that entails. So what?
It’s the suckerfish fools who regularly watch male sports that are the real closed closet types.
This is popularly known as “The Dutch Oven,” and it is indeed a sign of deep love and commitment. However, if your woman does it to you, there is no amount of therapy that will get you past it.
Where is the shopping provision?
Two men may not be seen shopping together unless it is to buy beer, cigarettes, or large cuts of meat.
A few of you brought up the idea of attempting to hide gayness, and it reminds me of a good story: A long time ago, in my Mormon days, a buddy and I who were already married pulled our somewhat naive friend (call him Beevis) aside just after the morning temple wedding but before the afternoon reception (i.e. before he’d had sex). We asked him if he knew how to do the deed, and he said “Well, I think so.” Alarmed, we queried further, only to find out that the poor lad had little or no knowledge of female anatomy and the simulation thereof. He had also done nothing to prepare for his wedding night and honeymoon, accessories wise. After a quick explanation of the precise location of the clitoris and general instructions on how to please one, my buddy and I headed to mall to do a lighting quick round of shopping on behalf of poor Beevis. We hit up the lingerie store first, where we found some body paint and edible underwear. We then repaired to the drug store, were we quickly grabbed condoms, a tube of KY Jelly, a can of whipping cream and a massager. We had all of the stuff on the counter and were waiting to pay when we realized that half of the other customers were staring at us with something more than just mild curiosity in their eyes. Couple of healthy young guys in their early 20s, ringing this stuff up together and obviously in a big hurry. We were in Provo, Utah, where something like 80% of the population is Mormon. Man we had a good laugh about that one. I think a few of those people nearly asked for our ID so that they could report us to our local bishops.
