6 Ways Being a Bro Hasn’t Changed At All Since The 1800s

Being a Bro means being an animal. As a species of male dudes, Bros have always pretty much behaved the same — Getting drunk, being boisterous, chasing tail, and pursuing rowdy shenanigans in-front of fuddy-duddy on-lookers who are probably judging you. We’ve always known and embraced that these behavioral traits and general antics define our essence, but now some unearthed writings from the early 1800s has proved that mankind’s general “Bro-ness” has always pretty much been the same:

A UK-based historian writing for The Washington Post recently unearthed a guide to a night out for Bros circa 1809. It comes from the English newspaper the Chester Courant and breaks down all the drinking, debaurery, and merrymaking Bros love to pursue when they’re out with the boys.

It just proves that a Bro’s behavior is pretty much timeless. The next time you’re at the bar slamming Fireball shots while trying to get some pretty lass’s number, remember you’re following in an age-old tradition established by your Bro forefathers.

Do it for the story, Bros — Just like they would have.

You like to party. And by party, we mean get drunk. But you do it with a certain grace: 

“You must very often drink very much; and when you have drank very much, you must appear very great; that is, you must swear a very good round hand, and sing a very good bawdy song. You must be expert and ready in giving an ingenious toast or sentiment; by ingenious, I mean, that it must be smart and witty; by smart and witty, I mean, that it must be smutty and fulsome…

Chicks are always on your mind, not matter what: 

You must be a buck; that is, you must be impious in your morals, wanton in your debaucheries, and horrid in your imprecations: in every thing that has the least alliance with obscenity and lewdness, or in short with any kind of wickedness, you must be learned; in every thing else, you may be as ignorant as you please. A Blood is just such another empty-headed fellow. – Whenever you go to church, (as you may now and then, when you have no where else to go) you must try every means to let the congregation see that it is not devotion, but curiosity, that brings you there: Never look at the parson, but at all the fine girls; and to make yourself the more remarkable, pull on your glass, and stare at them.

And not just one girl, either. ALL OF THE GIRLS:

You must know, or pretend to know, all the young ladies in town; and should you discover any one, two, or three of them to have conceived an affection for you, you must endeavour to debauch them all; and if you are so happy as to succeed, you must then forsake and expose them, by way of gratitude for their kindnesses.

Your general behavior in public is dominated by your swagger: 

You must often go to the playhouses, and there always distinguish yourself as highly as possible in assuming every freakish air and saucy attitude; and when the profoundest attention is required for the hearing of any fine and pathetic speech, you must be suddenly seized with a loud fit of coughing, clap like a hero at what you should not, and hiss at what you understand not.

When you walk into a bar, you generally own the place: 

You must go to taverns and coffee-houses, and jelly-houses and bawdy-houses, where you must commit every kind of tumult and disorder, such as jumping about the rooms, and putting out the candles, spilling the liquors, breaking the glasses, kicking the waiters &c &c.

You know that day-drinking/binging is a marathon, not a sprint. You also know how to handle a hangover like a goddamn champ:  

You must frequent places of fashionable resort, where you must keep It up all night and morning, in drinking, swearing and singing; and when fair noon-day makes her approach, you must heroically sally forth into the streets, reel about like a rake of the first magnitude, insult all you meet, knock down an old woman or two, break a few windows, stagger to another tavern, where you must get a fresh quantity of the right old sort, and finish your glorious frolic in being carried home triumphantly in a chair, senseless, speechless, and motionless.”

Brandon Wenerd is BroBible's publisher, writing on this site since 2009. He writes about sports, music, men's fashion, outdoor gear, traveling, skiing, and epic adventures. Based in Los Angeles, he also enjoys interviewing athletes and entertainers. Proud Penn State alum, former New Yorker. Email: brandon@brobible.com