BRO-badeer, continued

So, as promised from yesterday, here are some of the ideas that I have come up with for the Nobadeer project. A few of these are a bit lackluster, because I do not have my right-hand woman with me to stimulate the creative juices, but I will update the post as I get more. Perhaps we will compile these into some sort of T-shirt. Or, perhaps these will be read by a grand total of six people and I will forget about starting this blog by next week.

-Brobadeer: Ya, my Dad still smokes pot. With me.

-Brobadeer: Licenses to Chill accepted here.

-Brobadeer: Where’s your fucking Trin Coll bumper sticker?? Ya, that’s what I thought. Have fun at Cisco!

-Brobadeer: The first rule of Brobadeer is we do talk about Brobadeer. A lot.

-Brobadeer: I remember my first beer. Bro.

-Brobadeer: Beware of pickpocketers and loose flying lax balls.

-Brobadeer: I went to a lax pinney trading show and a beach party broke out. With lots of hot chicks and dudes wearing the same aviator sunglasses. And lax pinneys!

-Brobadeer: That reminds me of the day I drank 100 beers. Bro.

-Brobadeer: Home to shitty D3 laxers playing with fiddlesticks and skimboards since 1992.

-Brobadeer: The water’s warm, the brews are cold, and our fake IDs say we’re real fucking old!

-Brobadeer: So many babes, not enough time.

-I went to Brobadeer and all I got was this lousy hickey from a Seal. On my ass. Bro.

-Brobadeer: Play another Afroman “Because I Got High!”

-Brobadeer: Yo, who brought the acoustic? I wanna hear some JJ.

-Brobadeer: This fucking ATV cop should be mowing my step dad’s lawn.

-Brobadeer: Don’t hassle me. I’m on my fourth straight month of vacation and this economy is totally killin’ the job market. Dude. I mean… Bro.

-Brobadeer: That’s my bro Tommy. He’s always bumpin’ the hardcore country jams. Got all six Kenny Chesney CDs. And one Shania Twain.

-Brobadeer: You ever heard that song, “Six Pack Summer?” Ya, that’s me. And my Bros.

-Brobadeer: If you ain’t got croakies, you either lost them when you were BLACKED OUT last night or should keep on walkin’….

-Brobadeer: Ya, go ahead and try to arrest me for drunk driving on the beach. My Dad is the best lawyer in New Canaan and he’ll see to it that by the end of the month you are jobless, homeless, penniless, and… hairless.

-Brobadeer: Where Bros congregate to face chug Mike’s Hard and tell stories that they vividly remember from when they were blacked out the night before.

-Brobadeer: If I play my cards right with this babe, I might get a bro-job.