When I was a young man, the pack of miscreants and ne’er-do-wells I called my friends (and who, for reasons unknown, I still do) had a little ritual of greeting. Let’s say we saw one of our buddies walking down the road; we would glide up behind them, stick our head out the truck window, and at the top of our lungs, shout, “Hey! A*****e!”
That’s how young BroDudes talk to each other, to begin with; our conversations were littered with insults, including but not limited to speculations about each other’s ancestry not being completely human and impugning each other’s intelligence. That’s how young men are.
In another chapter of the ongoing death of free speech in the United Kingdom, that once-great nation is proposing to censor the pub banter of British BroDudes. Because they might offend someone.
According to the Campaign for Real Ale, 37 pubs close every week…
