Biola Brad
Biola Brad (noun):
A male student attending Biola University or any Christian school where ring-by-spring culture thrives and chapel credits are mandatory. Recognizable by his broccoli-shaped haircut or tragic mullet and baggy thrift-store fit that somehow makes him look both feminine and deeply punchable.
Despite being surrounded by beautiful Christian women, he cannot hold a real conversation with one—thanks to a crippling porn addiction and the social skills of a wet paper towel. He values women only for their looks, not their personality.
Though scrawny, he hits the gym once or twice a week with his equally scrawny bros, hogs the bench press, and flexes aggressively in the mirror, convinced he’s making massive gains—despite looking exactly the same. He compensates by talking way too loud, over-explaining lifts, and pretending to coach his friends, thinking it asserts dominance. When a Biola Betty walks in, he grunts louder, loads up too much weight, and drops it dramatically, hoping she’ll notice—she doesn’t.
Still clutching his V-card (not by choice), he fumbles every romantic opportunity so badly he ends up as the “gay best friend”—despite very much not being gay.
A male student attending Biola University or any Christian school where ring-by-spring culture thrives and chapel credits are mandatory. Recognizable by his broccoli-shaped haircut or tragic mullet and baggy thrift-store fit that somehow makes him look both feminine and deeply punchable.
Despite being surrounded by beautiful Christian women, he cannot hold a real conversation with one—thanks to a crippling porn addiction and the social skills of a wet paper towel. He values women only for their looks, not their personality.
Though scrawny, he hits the gym once or twice a week with his equally scrawny bros, hogs the bench press, and flexes aggressively in the mirror, convinced he’s making massive gains—despite looking exactly the same. He compensates by talking way too loud, over-explaining lifts, and pretending to coach his friends, thinking it asserts dominance. When a Biola Betty walks in, he grunts louder, loads up too much weight, and drops it dramatically, hoping she’ll notice—she doesn’t.
Still clutching his V-card (not by choice), he fumbles every romantic opportunity so badly he ends up as the “gay best friend”—despite very much not being gay.
Biola Brad strikes again—he just fumbled a perfectly good conversation with a Biola Betty by talking about his fantasy football league.”
Biola Brad by ChapleChronicler February 19, 2025
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