Bread Foster - Dude, Bro: The How-To Guide to College Your Parents Dont Want You to Have

Copyright 2015 by Brent Foster

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Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is available on file.

Cover design by Brian Peterson

Print ISBN: 978-1-63450-311-2

Ebook ISBN: 978-1-5107-0093-2

Printed in the United States of America

There are too many to dedicate this to. The staff at BroBible.com and The Rooster for teaching me to write for college kids again, to Cat Kovach my editor who had faith in a rookie writer, to H who hired me after college.

Mainly, to my grandmother who once told my family, Leave him alone, hes strange and hes always going to be strange. Hes going to make mistakes but hell figure out what hes gonna do and be great at it. Then she pulled me into her lap as she sat in her wheelchair and whispered, Just make sure you make every day a story.

And to my family, who never thought Id get published... Please, stop reading.

FOREWORD

S AM H AFT

W hen Bread Foster asked me to write the foreword to his very first book, it struck me how few friends he must have. Ive known him for just under two years, in which time weve laughed at each others failures, scoffed at each others successes, served as each others alibis, and exchanged a shocking amount of hate speech (although the Anti-Defamation League wont return my letters). Honestly, its difficult for me to describe Bread Foster. Ive always felt that we were comics first and friends second. So, for a moment, lets ditch the fiction of the whiskey-swilling, lady-poaching, depression-mired comedian that is Bread Foster, and focus on my friend Bread. And Bread is the kind of friend that comes with a verbal fucking warning:

Im sorry about him, hes really just a bad person.

Bread loves sex, liquor, fighting, drugs, kittens, hiking, and anything else that fills the gaping emotional chasm of a person sincerely afraid that theyre utterly unloved (i.e., a comedian). He spends a lot of time justifying his very delicate sense of confidence by attempting to serve as a source of mistake-earned wisdom; helping his fellow man understand the explicit particulars of why one shouldnt do the stupid things Bread does. This, in turn, gives him a sense that his hideous lifestyle has a purpose and allows him to sleep at night. (Also, the muscle relaxers help.) Speaking as one of his close friends, hes a really fun time. But speaking as a person, this seriously needs to stop.

I am appealing to your sense of humanitybegging evendo not allow this madness to continue. Do not let Bread Daniel Foster, the neer-do-well scamp from farmland New Jersey, to add layer upon layer to the horrifying, twisted, Tinder-using, alcoholic mask that is Bread Foster. Quit validating him. Stop it. Right fucking now.

Put this book down, and stop reading.

...

Fine, I guess that isnt happening. You know what, reader? You two deserve each other. You have absolutely no common sense, and youre definitely not gonna gain any from reading the ramblings of a horny drunk toddler contained within the pages of Dude, Bro: The How-To Guide to College Your Parents Dont Want You to Have. Sure, he might save you a herpes scare or two (sometimes that lip ring is hiding something), or help you avoid being the Ultimate Frisbee Guy

Speaking of whichseriously do NOT be Ultimate Frisbee Guy.

Also, when do I get a book?! Come on. Fuck you, Bread.

PREFACE

I n all honesty, I wrote this after I was finished so its not really a preface. This book has a lot of truth, because the truth is funnier than lying so a book sells more. Some of these are stupid, sometimes youre going to read this and think, No way, and other times, That ending was terrible. If I was writing a guide for how to do college, I wanted anyone reading to understand that its not always amazing, its not always crazy, its mainly what you make of it. These stories arent completely outrageous, they are strange and quirky and I hope slightly informative, funny, and endearing. College is about making mistakes and learning from them, so it was the perfect subject as Im considered a freshman author.

My insanity happened a long time before college. I grew up in a Catholic household with strict parents, no matter what they may say. Most other kids I knew were out drinking and being crazy in high school, and I didnt really start doing that heavily until I had already graduated. After that I ended up still living with my parents and going to community college. Community college is where the waitress next to you hopes to some day get a degree and become an executive assistant. No one really hangs out. They smoke weed in their cars and take classes then go home to their parents. There were no weekends in community college. There were Saturday classes and jobs. It was oppressive and nothing like what I wanted out of college.

So when I got to Montclair State University through a guaranteed admissions program into a business school, I knew life was going to be amazing. I wasnt there to be part of an institution of higher education. I was there to destroy it. I wasnt going to college. I was drinking and doing crazy shit on a deadline. I was pent up from community college and went to a college where no one from my town or high school ended up going. It was a fresh start to carve a niche and find a group of friends who wanted to have more fun than anyone else.

At college I found people who accepted and antagonized my craziness, and I have yet to feel as comfortable with people as I did then. Those who stuck with me were the people who stayed out till 4:00 a.m., who got great grades, and who knew this might just be the very best time of their lives. So I wanted you, the reader, to relive some of this insanity and laugh along with me. I wanted there to be some sort of collection of all the things I wish I had known, and realistic stories for me to set my expectations against. I could write a tome of the stories and amazing times that happened in college. I didnt have time to write about the sex (which doesnt matter because anyone younger than me is facing a whole new and different set of sexual problems), the strippers, all my groups of friends, the time I punched the King of Medieval Times in the chest and bent his armor, about people trying to drag me into pagan rituals, and Alex CarDouchey who sucker punched me at least fifty times only to get his ass kicked.

This is it, this is the insanity, the imperfection, the vulnerability. These are the ramblings of a crazy person who may have peaked during college. This is what someone who was delayed in getting to have fun did when sweet, sweet independence was given to them. This was our life in college.