Life
by J. Camm on April 3, 2012

Q. So I've got this curiosity and I'm not exactly sure how to handle it. I'm in a long-distance relationship and I visit my girlfriend every other weekend. Everything’s great and sex is fantastic, but the thing is sometimes I might come off as one jealous motherf***er, and I get too frustrated when she's out with her friends getting really drunk at some frat. I come over and whenever I try to check her cellphone, which is not an honorable– but a must thing to do in this particular relationship, she gets mad and upset that I don’t trust her with anything, especially when she goes out. She's in a really big party school. Thing is, I trust her but I don’t trust other guys and I've tried telling her, but so far I've gotten nowhere. I love her and I'm not sure how to handle her going out all the time, and being extra drunk when I'm not there, and this cellphone trust issue? I appreciate if you could help out a Bro! Thanks

A. “I trust her but I don’t trust other guys.” No. If you trusted her, you’d f*cking trust her and not act like a jealous fool all the time. Looking through her phone, dude? Come on. 

Take a piece of advice from Mike Ditka and STOP IT! You’re doing yourself no favors by whining that your girlfriend has a social life and snooping through her sh*t. Actually, your actions are the antithesis of a favor to yourself. Your brain thinks questioning her every move is going to keep her in line but if you continue with this jealousy garbage, I guarantee someone else is going to be slamming that clitoral hood shut in no time.

You know what, flip the situation around for a second. Think about how you’d react if she were doing this to you. Questioning your every move, sifting through your phone, being overly suspicious and completely irrational. You’d go mad and you’d be mad. So mad that you can’t go out at night and enjoy college without worrying about the lie you’re going to have to tell tomorrow. Pissed that at 2 a.m., when all your boys are still firing on all cylinders you’re expected to be on a phone call just so sh*thead can hear your voice before she goes to bed. And livid that when you forget to make the 2 a.m. call she berates you for the next 48 hours about how she doesn’t trust you and you’re not committed the relationship. (And that concludes the story of why I cheated on my long-distance girlfriend the very first semester of college.)

What you’re doing to her is exactly why I never advocate a long-distance relationship while in college. It sullies the experience. When you’re out on a Saturday night, you should be partying until you sh*t blood, not wondering what your girlfriend is doing 200 miles away!

Without factoring in your excessive jealousy, the odds that you (or anyone) leaves college with their long-distance relationship still intact are about the same as surviving an attack by a f*cking grizzly bear…and a cantankerous one at that. All your jealous actions are doing is expediting the process, which is probably the best thing for both of you so you can take advantage of college rather than wallow in worry while it passes you by.

Prognosis: If you don’t curb your jealousy, I give this relationship six months to live. Tops.

Q. Yo, do you wipe standing up or sitting down? Real talk.

A. Is there ever a time when I’m not talking real on here? This column is like a course in Humility 101 for me. Each week I unveil a new graphic truth about myself for your enjoyment. So why should today be any different?

Ladies, now would be a good time to skip to the next question so you can continue to remember me as a man that’s so handsome his a**hole just wipes itself.

Let me put it this way: I’ve tried to do both. I’m a bi-curious wiper. Had to test the waters to see what felt better. And then one day – like Anne Heche — I came to a rational, properly conceived conclusion that’s going to make half of you say “you’re f*cking stupid” while the other half says “I totally agree, it’s as if we share an a**hole” or something like that.”

What I don’t do when I wipe is sit. Why don’t I sit? For starters, it’s really uncomfortable – I dislike leaning immensely — and whenever I try to do it I never get that “my a**hole won’t itch from leftover sh*t” kind of wipe that I so desire. Plus, it’s impossible to see the massive moment I just left in the toilet, which is 86 percent of the reason why I take sh*ts to begin with. The other 14% is purely erotic.

Now I know some of you are flabbergasted by what I’ve just revealed. This is an understandable sentiment; I harbor similar feelings about sitting as you do standing, but I assure you, standing is superior in every possible way. Allow me to riff on this via a numeric list of pros.

1. Standing is not really standing. It’s a modified hover at best. Your preconceived notions that when you stand your *ss cheeks mash together and smeared sh*t squirts everywhere are ludicrous. No one pops off the toilet and stands at attention. We carefully lift ourselves to ensure our butt flaps remain properly spread to achieve success.

2. You get a deeper, more diverse clean. While your left leg is falling asleep and your right hand is working overtime, us standers are offloading some of the labor onto our left hand.

3. Wiping your a**hole in public is the same as wiping it at home. For you sitters, public toilets can be dangerous wild cards. Loose seats can slide and pinch your nutbag and you also have the seat paper to deal with. Standing removes all issues from the equation AND it gets your ass off that AIDS-infested seat faster.

4. No roll of toilet paper is out of reach. Once you’ve mastered the hover – I’m a seasoned veteran — you can go into a full-sprint without your un-wiped sh*t going into a full-on smear campaign at the same time.

5. Let’s not forget 86 percent of the reason why I even allow sh*t to come out in the first place. Last I checked, the trophy ceremony always came before the champ hit the showers. If that's good enough for sports, it's good enough for me.

Q. So there’s this girl that I’ve been hooking up with now and again and she’s pretty damn hot, but there’s one problem: she loves doing drugs. I drink nearly every time I get the chance, and I have no problem smoking the stanky green every now and again, but this chick does 'shrooms and pills like methylone and other sh*t I have never even heard of. My question to you is do I stick with her and keep on doing my thing or drop the druggie?

A. I’m with you, pal. There’s just something about a girl who engulfs heavy narcotics that makes my d*ck wince. The thing's grimace would give Clint Eastwood’s face a run for its money. But at this point you need to remember you’re just a d*ck that fills a void. She’s not your girlfriend, it’s not your job to “save” her, nor should you tell her how to live her life. It's just your job to f*ck her and pray to God she hasn't started sharing needles yet. 

Keep in mind that this never has to go anywhere other than the bedroom. Just don’t try to be a hero or get attached emotionally because if she OD’s before you get bored with her snatch, you’re going to need that extra energy (that you might have otherwise used to grieve) to move right the f*ck on.

Q. Bro, I am constantly told by narps that “Golf isn't a sport,” and “it's not athletic.” Being virtually a scratch player, I tell them that what they do and what I do on the golf course are two completely different things. I know you've got a lot of golf swag, and appreciate the game like a true Bro should. Your take?

A. Even though our country has significantly lowered its standards of what’s considered a sport, of course golf is a sport. If bowling and NASCAR are both deemed “sports” then golf is certainly right there with them (and so is rigorous mast*rbation for that matter). In a cart or walking, intoxicated or sober, talented or a hack, golf is a sport and that’s all there is to it. Anyone that says otherwise is blinded by bitterness because they can't play worth a sh*t. 

If golf wasn’t a sport then how did Tiger Woods win the Athlete of the Year and Sportsman of the Year awards several times? He won them because IT’S A GODD*MN SPORT! Well, that, or because the Associated Press and Sports Illustrated knew he was a champ at sport fu*cking long before the general public did. I mean, I can see them honoring him for that. 

If that doesn't satisfy your naysayers, reference this study that concludes golf is, in fact, a sport.

Q. I'm in college right now and for years I've had the same problem: I get stuck in the friend zone. It happened in high school and still happens today. It worked out once but that's beside the point. I've been fine with it for the most part because it usually leads to them hooking me up with their friends. Recently, sh*t hit the fan. I was invited by this girl who was more of an acquaintance than anything else to come and visit a mutual friend at another school. I was down. I had a f*cking great time but I got friend zoned on the car ride… How the f*ck does that happen? Now the best (and usually only) way to get out of the friend zone is to not get in it from the beginning. So this sh*t makes me want to ask the question: How does a Bro avoid the friend zone?

A. Ah, the friend zone. A purgatorial venue of confusion and heartache. “Why am I here?”, “Why don't they see that I exude all things sexual and awesome?” and “How in all f*ck do I leave this godforsaken sh*t nest?” are the questions most commonly heard from its patrons. Suffice it to say, the friend zone is neither a place you want to visit or live. It's love's version of Iraq.

So how can you avoid it? Well, that's easier said than done, for members of both sexual parties. Since I've gotten over 10 questions about this in the last month I'll try to break it down.

I can't say “do XY&Z, you'll always avoid the friend zone, and your d*ck will eat a king's feast for all eternity.” It simply doesn't work that way. Even when we bring our best stuff to the plate, we all strike out sometimes. It happens for obvious reasons (lack of attraction) and not-so-obvious reasons (you dress like a f*cking clown). Some people will never, in 5 million lifetimes, want to be with you — that's just a sad fact of life. But if you're good-looking and this is a reoccurring theme for you, then clearly doing something wrong. And let's remove attraction from the equation; most of you that wrote in made it clear to me that you're drop-dead gorgeous anyway. So here's what to do to try to avoid being just friends.

1. Don't always be there for him or her. The perfect way to become “just a friend” is acting like a f*cking friend.

2. Don't wait for the other person to make a move. They may be waiting for you to do the same thing, eventually get tired of waiting, and lose interest. So move fast and if you get rejected at least you'll know early on instead of wasting your time. Also, if that happens, NEVER wait for them to finally come around and see how great you are.

3. If the friend zone keeps happening (and you're not ugly or chronically in need of a breath mint) chances are your personality and approach are killing your chances. Switch it up. If your go-to move has always been to charm them with sarcasm or talk about your past relationships, perhaps it's time to try the EXACT OPPOSITE OF THAT. 

4. Ask yourself if he or she is out of your league. Be honest. A 6 can snag a 9 every now and then but failure and the friend zone is imminent if this is a pattern for you.

5. Never kiss the person's *ss or just lay down at their feet. Whether people admit it or not, everyone wants some kind of chase. No one wants to date a doormat or to be complimented for every fart they blow. I'm not suggesting you be a d*ck to them because “nice guys finish last” but you need to realize there's a difference between being nice to a person and being their personal urinal cake.

Follow me on Twitter, and submit your Ask a Bro questions here.

J. Camm

About J. Camm...

J. Camm is the Managing Editor of BroBible. He is a graduate of the University of Miami thanks mostly in part to a world-class short-term memory. When not writing drivel on the Internet, J.Camm enjoys golf and the inexplicable satisfaction that comes with forgetting a person's name the exact instant he meets them.

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