11 Times That Every Bro Literally. Can't. Even

by Dan Scotti

Look, life can get frustrating. I'm not here to sugarcoat it. Your bosses will nag you to finish your work before the deadline. Your girlfriends will nag you to support their newly launched (/day camp quality) jewelry company. Your boys will nag you to like their Instagram pictures.

At the end of the day, two things are for certain: the struggle, and the stupidity of those around you.

Both of these can be epitomized using just two words: I can't. In fact, if my stream of thoughts throughout the day was a Twitter timeline, "I can't" would be trending quite regularly. Right up there with: "I'm hungry" and "What the f*ck did I do now?"

Although, when you say "I can't," you put yourself at immediate risk of sounding brattier than Veruca Salt from "Charlie and the Chocolate Factory" – sometimes there's no better response to life's offerings.

In case you still don't understand exactly the type of scenes I'm referring to, I've supplied 11 of the grimmest scenarios a dude can find himself in. In other words, here are 11 situations where bros "literally can't."

1. When people bring Tupperware full of ethnic food to the library and other public places.

Studying for your neuroscience final can be a real pain in the ass. It only makes matters worse when you attempt to do so next to the kid who had the impulse to bring a Tupperware full of curried jambalaya to the campus computer lab.

Like, are you f*cking kidding me? I usually have a strict “chicken caesar” policy with regard to handling my public food consumption.

Things like “chicken caesar wraps” and “chicken caesar salads” are usually pretty smell-free and can be eaten relatively quietly. In my eyes, anything outside of that will become a slippery slope.

When you’re slurping on spoonfuls of rice that smell like the middle school locker room before dudes were socially obligated to wear deodorant (past maybe a few puffs of Axe), you start to intrude on the natural rights of others around you.

2. When hordes of club promoters text you in the weeks preceding Thanksgiving Eve.

“Yo Dan. It’s been a while, bro.”

Ah, club promoter guy. You’re right. I haven’t seen or heard from you since you organized spring break in the Bahamas, senior year of high school.

OK, so let me get this straight. You mean there will be a long line outside the door, full of kids from my high school? Wait, one of them will be DJing? And there will be carafes full of watered down vodka inside? And tickets I’ll need to buy in advance? Say no more, man, I’m TOTALLY in.

Said nobody, ever, to a f*cking club promoter, in the nights leading up to “Thanksgiving Eve.” I’m confused where this whole social-obligation to “go out” on the Wednesday before Thanksgiving even originated from.

The way I see it, in order to execute the long day of eating and watching football I have planned ahead of me – I’ll require a decent night of sleep. The last thing I’m going to want to deal with is a douchebag, wearing a decorative scarf, instructing me on where the motherf*cking line is. 

3. When people say LOL out loud.

“Oh my god, 'LOL,' that was hilarious!”

Like, see, you said “L-O-L” but you failed to actually laugh out loud... so... not only are you lying, but I also feel like I’m hanging out with SmarterChild, the AIM Bot.

How about we keep online abbreviations... online, and make real-life conversations consist of real-life things... like actual laughter.

You don’t need to tell people you’re “laughing out loud” when you’re sitting next to them... just go ahead and actually laugh out loud. They’ll get the message.

4. When the Knicks are down one point with 15 seconds left, and JR Smith takes the final shot.

So your relentless Knicks have fought back from a 13-point fourth quarter deficit, and just forced a huge turnover to secure them with the final possession. TIMEOUT.

You figure the ball HAS to end up in Carmelo Anthony’s hands, one of the best scorers in all of basketball. I mean, this is why we’re paying him, right?

JR Smith curls off a high screen, receives the inbound pass, attempts about four modifications of a crossover, and steps-back right in front of the three point line – fading away. Clank. Knicks lose.

5. Anything related to the menstrual cycle.

There’s an old expression that says:

“There are three things you should never discuss in polite company: religion, politics and money.”

Whoever came up with that saying clearly never had a girlfriend, or else “your period” would’ve been added to that list. Ultimately, bloodshed is never the answer – so, let’s not discuss it during lunch, babe.

6. When a girl puts her middle name as her last name on Facebook while you’re trying to creep.

Goddamnit. She said her name was Lauren Schwartz. Or was it Schwarz. Maybe it was with the “c” in it, right? You can spell Schwartz like Schwarcz, can’t you? Or maybe it’s Lauryn? Or Loren. F*ck.

Good luck finding Lauren Schwartz on Facebook when her name has REALLY been Lauren Nicole the whole damn time.

It’s going to be a real public spectacle in the morning when your Facebook friends see “Dan Scotti is now friends with…” nine different Lauren Schwartzes all containing different spelling combinations.

7. When Jets and Mets fans say, “THIS IS THE YEAR”

Mets and Jets fans who annually say, “This is the year,” are about as delusional as William Hung thinking he stood a chance at advancing to the Hollywood phase of American Idol after his rendition of “She Bangs.”

8. When people post their political views incessantly on Facebook

Posting political views on Facebook is more out of place than the Age of Aquarius scene in "The 40 Year Old Virgin."

Like, I wake up, scroll through sorority girls posting last nights’ pictures under the sepia filter, and then get myself caught up to speed on what’s going on over in Gaza – compliments of all my friends who have gone on Birthright.

I hear you, and I’m totally down with resolving all social crises across the globe, but I can’t help but get the feeling that Facebook really isn’t the operative forum.

When you post your political views on Facebook, you lose sight of the reason Facebook was even built: to stalk exes and randomly friend request strange new women.

9. When your girlfriend wants you to come with her and her girls to Sunday brunch.

You’re hungover as f*ck and you know you have plans with bae. You hope that she’ll be down to just kick it, maybe watch some Netflix in bed, while nursing your pounding headache and nausea.

You get this text:

“Hey babe. Me and the girls want to go to this really hip place 'Smorgasburg' for brunch. It's in Brooklyn. U have to come. U promised.”

Next thing you know, you’re the designated Instagram-taker for the day while you’re forced to shovel "Ramen burgers" and unidentified types of sausages into your queasy stomach. Drowning in the glee of hipsters and north shore Long Island.

10. When your boy brings up the $3 you owe him from five months ago.

“Yo, do you happen to have that $3 I spotted you at Chipotle for guacamole?”

Bro. It was like two and change. And that was last semester. And we split the guac.

When dudes bring up trivial sums of debt, months later, I literally can’t. Actually, I can. Whenever this type of sh*t happens, I always pay my boys back... exclusively through pennies, nickels and the occasional dime.

11. When late night drive-thru f*cks up your order.

If I’m ordering fast food far into the waning hours of the night, it should be assumed that my order will consist of six or seven different things off the value menu, and my friends are probably hanging out of the window shouting profanity.

Still, If I could manage to drunk-dial an Uber and successfully shepherd it to the nearest Taco Bell location, -- especially after the amount of liquor consumed tonight -- the teenager with the headset should be able to handle my drive-thru order.

Opening up a carton full of chicken nuggets and not having the proper dipping sauces to work with is like Milton Waddams, in "Office Space," trying to get through the business day without his stapler. There’s nothing more deflating.

Photo Courtesy: Universal Pictures/Neighbors