Broski Beach: Or, Ode to a Broski

Today was the second day of my teaching semester. My first class is comprised of very nice, pleasant, tired, and monochromatic people. I can live with that. They may not be lively in large-class discussion, but they do their work and put in the effort. The second class has all the personality. ALL. OF. IT. Today felt a bit like the Breakfast Club: jock, manic pixie dream girl, burnout, you get it. And let’s not forget the several broskis who made themselves known today.

What is a broski, you may ask? And when I tell you, you might respond, WHY is a broski? Well, gentle reader, pull out a chair and get your popcorn. Because, in the immortal words of Garfunkel and Oates (an awesome girl band) this party just took a turn…for the douche.

Let’s first distinguish our specimen, the broski, from his oft-mistaken cousin, the douche (or douchebag). They both often favor clothing by Ed Hardy, baseball caps, and their abs/overall physique. But while a broski is just a bromantic dude gone wild, the douche is irrevocably in love…with himself:

Exhibit A: A dash of hipster, a lot of douche.

A douche is obnoxious and self-loving to the point of utter, oblivious destruction:

Exhibit B: The Situation helps us gaze into his own navel by continually lifting up his shirt.

More seriously, a douche may tear at the very threads of our civilized and genteel society:

Exhibit C: 2012’s answer to 1999’s Nick Carter.

A broski, on the other hand, is a bro who loves his bros. Bromantically, of course (that is, straight guy love that’s unashamed of how much he loves his dudes). Loud. Proud. Unafraid to admit it. He also loves the ladies. His clothes. His body. His team. His car. And then, himself. A broski CAN be douchey:

Ryan Lochte, his brand-new Olympic medal, and his classic diamond grill. In the words my sister, “Wut.”

Or, he can be endearing:

How you doin’?

But a broski is always obnoxious. He may want to sit with his bros during class. He may be afraid to say something, lest he fall out of favor with his bros (this happened last year). He may come to class wearing his gym clothes, or better yet, a tank top (this happened today). He may forget to bring his textbook (today), and he may also ask his teacher about it loudly (also today). He may ask if there are any books in your English class (today). He may even start clapping when his bro gives a good answer in class (today).

What, then, is a genteel reader to do with oneself? You may understandably react with dismay:

Seriously, Turk is SO TIRED of all The Todd’s sequined thongs.

Or you can just enjoy the show. Write their gems of wisdom down to amuse yourself later. Share with family and friends. Watch the hilariously bad music videos they create. Or, re-create book/movie titles, substituting the word “broski” for important phrases. Allow me to share examples that The Chancellor, my sister, and I came up with:

The Broski Strikes Back (me)

The Fellowship of the Broski (The Chancellor)

For Whom the Broski Tolls (sister)

Broski Mountain (me)

The Wrath of Broski (The Chancellor)

And our personal favorites:

My Little Broski (The Chancellor)

No Country for Old Broskis (me)

Broskis of the Caribbean [subtitled Come Get Me, Mon!]

As you furiously try to find your own movie titles (Requiem for a Broski, anyone?), just remember: broskis are people too. They just want to love their dudes. In a dudely manner, of course. They need proper care. Boundaries. And love. True bromance can make a good man out of a broski. At the heart of every broski is a bromance waiting to be fulfilled by his fellow bro:

A better romance than Twilight. A true love story for our time.

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2 Comments

Filed under Celebrity, Culture, Teaching

2 responses to “Broski Beach: Or, Ode to a Broski

  1. Anonymous

    Yay Sister, I love it! I thought of some more too 🙂 How about….

    The Broski Always Rings Twice
    The Broski Suicides
    All Quiet on the Broski Front

    Once you start looking for them, the broskis are *everywhere.*

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