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Whether we know it or not, each of us lives a life governed by an internalized code of conduct. Some call it morality. Others call it religion. I call it "the Bro Code."
For centuries men have attempted to follow this code with no universal understanding of what such an arrangement meant: Is it okay to hug a Bro?* If I'm invited to a Bro's wedding, do I really have to bring a gift? Can I sleep with a Bro's sister or mother or both?
Now, for the first time on paper, I have recorded the rules of social decorum that Bros have practiced since the dawn of man...if not before. The Bro Code previously existed only as an oral tradition (heh), so I have journeyed the globe to piece together and transcribe the scattered fragments of the Bro Code, pausing only to flesh it out myself (double heh). While not intending to write a "Guide to Being a Bro," if men should treat it as such and pass this compendium of knowledge from one generation to the next, I have little doubt it would bring a tear to my eye. But not out of it. That would be a violation of Article 41: A Bro never cries.
It is my hope that, with a better understanding of the Bro Code, Bros the world over can put aside their differences and strengthen the bonds of brotherhood. It is then, and only then, that we might work together as one to accomplish perhaps the most important challenge society faces getting laid. Before dismissing this pursuit as crass and ignoble, consider this postulate: without the sport inherent in trying to bang chicks, would men willingly have sex for the sole purpose of producing smelly, screaming babies?
Centuries from now, when a Bro applies the rudiments of the Bro Code to score a three-boobed future chick, the only thanks I'll need is the knowledge that I in whatever small capacity Bro'd him out...though if he could figure out how to bring me back to life, that would be pretty awesome, too. Barney Stinson ™ & © 2008 by Twentieth Century Fox Film Corporation. All rights reserved.