Kevin Durant in 2007: This kid, who naturally gets drunk quicker than most, because he’s a grown man that weighs 128 pounds, loves talking shit in the GroupMe. Once every three weeks he’ll start some shit, say he’s going to kick somebody’s ass, which is immediately met with an array of photoshops with his face on slenderman/the boy in the Striped Pyjamas’ body. His metabolism blows everybody’s mind because he eats so much Takis after ripping a few chops that his fingers are permanently the faint color of red food dye. If he’s tall, he’s either a “where’s my hug at” type weirdo that gets aggressively offended when the soft sixes he invited to a pregame don’t show, or he’s one of those assholes that passed through life naturally good looking. If he’s short, it’s curtains for him. After a Joe Dimmagio type dry spell, he will take as many Xanax as it takes for him to forget that HE’s the one catfishing on Tinder.
The Hardo: One of the best parts of being a guy (other than being able to pee anywhere I want to) is that if there’s a situation where it’s just a group of guys playing die in hot weather, the shirtless guy who’s on a keto diet is the sore thumb. Sure, it might get you laid, but EVERYONE is shitting on you. You have two choices when you are hardo about your fitness: go balls deep and make an Instagram fitness account, or keep your fucking shirt on. This isn’t a jealousy thing. This is you playing beer die with a Bonv!v because you’re THAT horny. If this guy isn’t kept in check, and this is NSFW levels of cringe, he’ll have his shirt off at every post-game and claim that it’s because he had to “cool down because of the blow.” Jesus Christ, man, did you have a pledge put fucking oil on you? FOH
I Wear A Rush Shirt To The Gym 3x A Week: The word volatile has been thrown around a lot on the internet today, but that perfectly describes this guy. He’ll be in good shape for four or five days out of the month, get his Tinder pics in after pretending to be interested in how hardo guy maintains his physique two weeks before spring break, and the ill-defined six-pack he has disappears after his first two Miller Lights. This guy can be scrawny one day and jacked the next, all depending on how much money his Wells Fargo homepage had in it to buy food. It’s a slept on issue that freshmen in college go weeks eating 1200 calories a day, but it’s not good. Once that summer job money runs out, and nicotine is the priority when you see three figures in your bank account again after Dad’s biweekly Venmo, managing that money is a slippery slope that almost always ends with Ramen. This kid was an athlete in high school that hasn’t completely let himself go, but he’s halfway there.
I Look Forward To Flannel Season: I didn’t want to use the word “Dad Bod,” because I’m not a white girl that wears glasses fashionably writing for Buzzfeed, but you catch my drift. This guy is a flannel season BEAST. He put on more than the freshman fifteen, but he’s also in his last round of interviews with JP Morgan, so he doesn’t really give a shit. He’ll HOUSE Panda Express like there is no tomorrow and do curls once a week, and girls will still fuck with him. He looks forward to Winter, where he can grow his facial hair out more, and it’ll perfectly complement one of three sweaters he’s got in the rotation. He’s a HUGE oversized shirt in the summer kind of guy, and he loves shitting on Hardo gym guys with a burning passion. His biggest fear is that the guy above me starts going to the gym more regularly.
I’m Fat and Funny: Boob luges, farts, and outlandish Tinder stories. Girls love him (always as a friend), which is the reason he struggles deep down. By age twenty-five, he’ll finally try and get around to actually completing that new year’s resolution, but for now, he’s just the Chris Farley of your friend group.