
beer bongs. flip cup. survivor. kings cup. beer pong. keg stands. power hour. quarters. caps. never have i ever. edward forty-hands.
all drinking games that (unless you're okay with ridicule or getting completely annihilated) revolve around drinking copious amounts of beer. those poor other adult beverages just live a life of neglect and exclusion.
that is until now. bros icing bros (as it is being advertised, but also known as getting iced) takes one of the most left out alcoholic refreshments for anyone over the age of seventeen without a vagina and turns it into the liquid used in the drinking game du jour for douchebags and hipsters alike. as the name implies, the drinking game is solely intended for the male persuasion.
how does it work? one bro (for the purposes of this post, we'll call him chad) hides a (preferably) balls-hot smirnoff ice for another bro (we'll call this one carlos) to find. there's usually some scheming and tricking carlos into finding the molten-temperatured chick drink. if chad were less creative, he could just wave a bottle in front of carlos' face, fist pump and shout you just got iced, broseph! either way, upon receiving or seeing the bottle (preferably a forty of some gross flavor, such as green apple or wild grape), carlos must drop to one knee, careful as not to rip his skinny jeans, and fucking chug the warm, syrupy goodness. no matter the level of inappropriateness of the time, place or situation.
but, there is a catch. if carlos was sneaky and had a smirnoff ice (like say, available and ready to go in a super handy fanny pack), then chad would have to chug both bottles of the warm, syrupy goodness. this touché is known as an ice block.
like most drinking games, it doesn't require a lot of cerebral activity. and, as with most things that can easily be digested by the masses, it's becomes wildly accepted. bros have been icing each other at frat parties, military barracks, capitol hill offices, hipster shindigs, goldman sachs, college dorms, connected ventures, sporting events and vice magazine. someone even took the time to set up a site to document all the glorious icing.
in the words of vanilla ice, will it ever stop, yo?
i really don't know...
photo: meddygarnet