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For all the T-blawg Groupies

Over the course of the 5 years of this site I acquired a lot of followers, fans and friends. T-blawg opened up my life to another world. It also brought into my life the T-blawg Groupie. A girl who was more than a fan and got to know me off of the site. There were a lot I won’t lie. Some good, some bad. I had a good time with some and became a better man. Others, not so much. I am sorry for my part. I truly am. But you all also made me a better man. So as I wrap up all things T-blawg in the upcoming weeks I want to say thank you to all the T-blawg Groupies of the past. I wish you all well.

And this is for you…

 

 

 

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T-pisode 254: Separating From The Pack

I do this about twice a month. What can I say? I'm a rebel ladies.

I do this about twice a month. What can I say? I’m a rebel ladies.

There comes a time as a man when you start to separate yourself from the rest of the pack. You separate yourself from every other guy out there. EVERY other guy. The guys you work with. The guys you hang out with. The guys you are related to. The guys from college. The guys from the old neighborhood. The guys at the club. The guys at the bar. The guys at the game. The guys on social media. The guys at the gym. The married guys. The single guys. The divorced guys. It was never a competition. They are not your competition. They aren’t in your league anymore. You’re not better than them. But you are separating yourself from them. Everything that you say and do now is based off of everything you said and did then. And guess what? You are separating yourself from the pack whether it’s intentional or not. Whether you know it or not. I happen to know it.

Age, experience and knowledge. Each man has all three. Not boys, men. Grown men. These three traits now define you. You can no longer be stupid like you used to be. You can no longer make the mistakes you used to make. You can no longer get away with shit simply by saying “What did you expect? I’m a guy.” Bullshit. My age tells me I no longer get to make those old mistakes but I also don’t need to put up with the same old shit I used to put up with. You don’t want to see me? Fine. You don’t want to hang out? Fine. You don’t want to date me? Fine. You don’t want to pay me? Fine. You don’t want to trust me? Fine. You don’t want to believe me? Fine. Go pull that shit on the other guys. There are still plenty of them in the pack just waiting around wondering what’s going to happen next without taking the initiative to make something happen next. Me? I want to buy something? I’m buying it. I don’t have to think twice about it. I’m not in the same tax bracket as the rest of the pack anymore. How did that happen? Age, experience and knowledge. There’s nothing wrong with going to Vegas or Miami for the weekend. Me? I’m not like that anymore. I’m in Barcelona with hand rolled cigars, homemade sangria and dancing with a woman whispering a language into my ear that I don’t understand, but we both understand each other. The rest of the pack will be paying for their weekend trip for the next year on minimum monthly credit card payments. My trip was paid for before I even got on the plane. Why? Age, experience and knowledge. My goals are not like the pack’s goals. They’re trying to figure out what to eat tonight. I already ate and now I’m trying to figure out what I want to eat for the rest of my life. The pack wants to go out to find any available females tonight because it’s mating season for them every night. I’m inside the cave saving myself for a true queen now to share my animal kingdom with. That 9 to 5 has you punching in and out with the rest of the pack on a daily basis. My day job ends then the work on my dream begins and the clock doesn’t stop on my workday. I keep going while the rest of the pack sleeps at night. They can sleep because they are content. Satisfied without the need to hunt more. Not me. Why? Age, experience and knowledge. When that separation from the pack happens you leave a lot behind. A lot. Friends. Family. Lesser men. A life that you can no longer live. A life that you refuse to live. I have separated from the pack. This isn’t about being the alpha male or a lone wolf. This about not being like the rest. I refuse to be lumped in with every other guy at this point in my life. I built this life. I’m all grown up. I’m extremely experienced. And I’m smart as fuck. Age, experience and knowledge. Fuck being in the pack any longer.

I see a lot of men that think they’re wolves and think they have strength, ferocity, claws and teeth. Trying to come off like they’re better than the rest. Truth is, they’re soft. Weak. Scared. They’ll never last in the wilderness by themselves. They don’t have what it takes to survive on their own so they stay with the pack. I can smell the fear on you. If you’re that much of man, if you really are that successful, then why are you still doing what the rest of the pack is doing? Like I said, nothing wrong with that if you like being like the rest of the pack. But embrace it and don’t pretend. You’re a pup and you’re only good for petting. Separating from the pack, from what you know, from what is comfortable isn’t for every man. But it is for me. I’m separating from the pack. Because my age, experience and knowledge at this point in my life now tell me I can.

 

 

Until next time. Always take it there.

T

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Not December 4th but December 1st

T-pisode 260 is coming….

 

 

The end is near

The end is near

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T-pisode 253: Monday

Just get the fuck out of bed and crush it. That's it.

Just get the fuck out of bed and crush it. That’s it.

I chose Monday for a reason. I chose Monday for T-blawg. There were obviously 7 days of the week for me to choose from when I started all of this. But I chose Monday. Not Tuesday. Not Thursday. Not Saturday. Why Monday? Well, Tuesday is the blow over day. Wednesday is the halfway point in the work week. Thursday is when you start getting thirsty for the weekend. Friday is the official end to your Monday through Friday routine. Saturday is errands and activities day. Sunday is either a day of rest or a day of way too much fun before you get that anxiety or rush knowing it all starts again the very next day. And that day is Monday. The first day. The most important day.

There are two types of people in this world. Those who hate Monday and those who embrace Monday. I fall into the latter type. So that meant T-blawg would too. Regardless of your routine, odds are you have a job, have to commute, have to work out, have to run errands, have to eat, have to watch your TV shows, have to pay your bills, have friends, have family, have a social life. We all do. We all know what we should be doing, when we should be doing it, how we should be doing it and whom we should be doing it with. So it always blows my mind when people complain about Monday. You do realize you are in control of your own life right? You do know that you have a say in what does and what doesn’t make you happy right? So, is your life that bad, that miserable, that you live in fear of the start of the week? That you have that much hate for your own life that you don’t want to start another week? Monday IS the fresh start you wanted! You can do anything on Monday! Change your routine. Change your job. Change your life but Monday is going to come no matter what. That’s what she said. There are 52 Mondays to start fresh. 52 Mondays to do something that week. 52 ways to say to yourself “Today, I’m going to start this week off right. Today, I’m going to crush it at the gym. Today, I’m going to kill it at the office. Today, I’m going to eat right. Today, I’m going to try something new.” Then guess what? You get to do it again the next day. And the next. And the next!!! Are you picking up what I’m putting down people? Don’t hate on Monday. Hate on yourself. Then fix it. That’s right, fix it. I chose Monday for T-blawg because I know I’m going to start my week by giving the world the awesomeness. The world needs more awesomeness. Complaining and whining about Monday is not awesome. Starting your week off with a kick ass attitude is awesome! You have to bring it every day but if you start the week off wrong you’ll never get it right.

Unlike your favorite TV show, there are no reruns with T-blawg. Every Monday…52 weeks a year…I send out a brand new T-pisode into the world. I know that I’m going to start my week off right because of this site. Because I know reading T-blawg on Monday has become a part of so many people’s routines. It’s a part of their Monday. They start their week off right and T-blawg is a part of starting it right for them. To me that is mind-blowing and that is so awesome! I said it before and I’ll say it again… I’m not trying to save the world with T-blawg; I’m just trying to entertain it. Monday is that chance for me. Monday is why I chose it for T-blawg. Monday IS T-blawg day. So stop complaining about Monday because T says so.

 

Until next time. Always take it there.

T

 

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T-pisode 252: The “A Theory”

This may possibly be the only time I'll get to use a Sesame Street pic on T-blawg. And Grover is the shit by the way!

This may possibly be the only time I’ll get to use a Sesame Street pic on T-blawg. And Grover is the shit by the way!

I like to think of myself as a realist. A hands on factual kind of guy. Take things into my own hands and make something happen instead of waiting around. I was never one to really buy into the whole system of life signs, coincidences or fate in my earlier days. Now I do believe in the whole “do good, get good” and “do bad, get bad” way of life and “If it’s meant to be, it’ll be.” That is true. That I NOW believe in. But one sort of idea slash theory I have had for the last 15 years and I’m a firm believer in is my “A Theory.” A few close people know about my “A Theory” and they think I’m crazy. What the hell is the “A Theory” you ask? Well of course it has to do with women. I mean this is T-blawg still right? What else did you think it would be? Let me explain it.

Over the years I have known a lot of women. Some good, some bad, some important, some not. But the ones who have had a major impact on my life throughout the years and have played roles in my life that forever changed me have ALL had first names that end in the letter A. Yep. I swear to Baby Jesus. They are the elite special ones. My cousin thinks it’s because 75% of women have first names that end in the letter A and it’s just a major coincidence and because I’m a deep thinking writer. But his two daughters, two of my youngest nieces have first names that end in A. And one is one of my two god-daughters. So he and I differ on this one. And here’s why. Let me tell you about the other women along with my two nieces who have or HAD first names that end in the letter A and what they mean to me. You ready? First, my mother AND my sister’s first names both end in the letter A. Without a single doubt they are the two most influential women of my entire life. My first crush and the reason I am still in a blood feud with Jason Giambi, ended in the letter A. The girl I lost my virginity to many moons ago, ended in the letter A. My first great one I think. One of my best friends from college and part of my west coast family, ends in the letter A. The girl from Vegas that became more than the girl from Vegas, ends in A. The hot model girl from South Beach and the only woman to EVER ROOFIE ME, ended in A. My #1 Los Angeles woman who even named a character after me in her TV show, ends in A. My “Bullpen” homegirl in NYC, ends in A. The girl who almost had a piece of my heart but got deported back to Brazil just in time, ended in A. Poor girl. The young girl I took to Paris??? Waaaiiitttt for ittttt….ended in A. The girl I used to work with, went to London with and is still a good pal ends in A. The woman I took to Italy, her name ends in the letter A. But that woman also happens to be my mother. One of the strongest, most important, most original and most amazing women I have ever met, her name ends in the letter A. And finally, the only woman who I EVER went back to, who I ever said “I love you” to, who made me finally think that I could get married & have kids with and who stole my entire heart and still scares me a little…her name ends in A. Now do you see why I have the “A Theory?” Am I crazy? Don’t answer that.

Coincidence? Fate? Signs? Karma? Or just a guy who writes and comes up with a lot of shit? You can decide. Me? I’m going with the “A Theory” because this is my life and I got to experience all of this and these women and there’s no way it’s just a coincidence. They all can’t be coincidence or signs. And odds are, the woman I end up marrying will have a first name that ends in the letter A. She’ll be a special one like the rest of them. Except she will be the last special one. Unless we give our daughters names that end in the letter A too. Karma is a good name for a girl right? The “A Theory” explained….the only theory of my entire life. But it’s a good one. Just like all of them.

 

 

Until next time. Always take it there.

T

 

 

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T-pisode 251: Being A Better Man

If I learned anything from this past year it is that I can always be a better man. Fellas, this goes for all of us.

If I learned anything from this past year it is that I can always be a better man. Fellas, this goes for all of us.

I am not using this space to glorify anything from my past today. There will not be any signs of sarcasm or any profanity here today. I am not going to give this one a label from one of my many guy rules, plans or formulas that have shaped my life and this site. There will be no dating stories, sports stories or Boston stories today. There will be no advice given. I am not venting. This one is about being a better man and why I have to be a better man and how I’m going to be a better man. This is me writing to myself one more time. With an audience watching.

Old habits are hard to kill. I am very aware of all my habits, both good and bad. I am aware of how routine I can be at times. I know that I am stuck in my ways. I know that I am very stubborn. I know that I always think that I am right. I’m very aware of how passionate I can be and how I am quick to tell someone how much I love them or how much I hate them. I spoil the ones that I love. Too much, too soon. I know that I am cold to those that I consider not worthy enough to be in my inner circle. I know that I waste too much time and energy trying to reach out to those that are no longer in that circle. I am aware that sometimes I use my past and what I didn’t have as a crutch that allows me to brag and boast about how hard I work and about everything I have now. I know that my look, body, scars, tattoos and accent contradict everything in the life I really live now. And I know that I am flawed beyond belief and my pride will never allow me to ask for help or work on the issues I should really work on. I am very self-aware and at this point in my life, I am the man I am going to be for the rest of my life. But that doesn’t mean I can’t take all of this and still become a better man. Because I want to. I have to. For me. I can travel all over the world now when I want but my everyday world is becoming smaller. That’s the world I live in; filled with the people, places and things I love. That’s what I am focusing on. I want to be a man who inspires people. Those who believe that they could never reach the life people told them they could never have. I want to be a man who is recognized as being accomplished, not rich. I want to be a man who is known for his integrity, not as someone who waivers. I want to be a man who is admired for his life wisdom acquired from always having a thirst for knowledge, not as a man who is filled with regret from not doing. I want to be a man who is known as a good husband; a protective father; and an amazing provider for his family, not as an old, single man who can still be seen with a young woman night after night at the newest establishment in the city. I want to be a man who lives a fulfilling life now while building for an amazing future, not as man who constantly reminds himself about the boy he used to be and the life he once lived. I want to be a better man.

I don’t think at my age I need to improve my work ethic; my ambition; my confidence or my big heart (as so many people have surprisingly called it). My existing relationships with those I have in my life are solid. The bulk of my tangible goals are almost entirely checked off my list. Those are all fine on their own and are the pillars that I have to build on now. Without the foundation I have already created I don’t think I would be able to improve myself. I have lived a fantastic life that I didn’t think would ever be possible but I still have so many qualities and traits I need to work on. I’ll never be a perfect man. Not for myself. Not for a woman. Not for anyone I know now or in the future. But I can always try to improve myself. I can do something every day both big and small. Because I am going to become a better man.

 

Until next time. Always take it there.

T

 

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A different take on the pursuit of happiness tonight

I’m not big on cover songs but I dig this shit.

“Pursuit of Happiness”

 

 

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#wouldwife

Nicole Scherzinger

Nicole Scherzinger

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T-pisode 250: Why I Write

One of my all time favorite pics. But I see a Red Sox hat, a MacBook, a Jack & Ginger with lime and an expensive cigar from a European vacation. My life.

One of my all time favorite pics. But I see a Red Sox hat, a MacBook, a Jack & Ginger with lime and an expensive cigar from a European vacation. My life.

I remember when I was in elementary school and I was in the “advanced” reading groups. My books were yellow. My friends’ books were green. I would finish the reading assignment before the rest of the group and then I would start talking to my friends. The teachers used to discipline me for distracting my friends by giving me more book reports to do. I would fly through the book reports. So much so that I started making up my own books, authors and stories. The teachers would always tell my mother this in every grade, every year. They told her I should write. So I started to write. More stories. More books. More creative writing. I did it because it was an escape from my life. From what I was going through in real life. On paper I could be anyone. I could be any character. Live any place I wanted. I could be the good guy or the bad guy. So I wrote. All the time.

As I got older, I stayed with the creative writing but I also got into fact based writing. AKA journalism. I did ok with the journalism. Wrote for the school newspaper. Wrote for two local newspapers. Received a journalism scholarship for an international arts program the Summer before my senior year in high school. Went into college as a journalism major with 3 years’ worth of scholarship money. But I didn’t like it. I didn’t like writing about other people’s problems. I had my own. So I took my love for movies and started to write them. Creative writing was my first love. Journalism was the rebound girlfriend that I hated. Screenwriting became my wife and T-blawg became my mistress. I write here to tell my real-life stories. I write scripts to tell made up stories. I love both equally. Words on paper or words on the screen, I love seeing my words. They aren’t always the best words, but they are MY words. The words I write here I give away for free. The words I write in my scripts I hope to take care of my entire family with one day. Both serve a purpose. I write from my heart every time. I can’t explain what it is like to pour your heart into something the way a writer pours his/her heart into something they are writing. The words leave your heart, sometimes they stop at your brain for a moment, and then you watch them appear onscreen as your hands move on their own. It’s a process, yes. It’s passion, yes. It’s an art, yes. I don’t claim to be a writer most of the time. Sometimes I do. But mostly I claim to be a storyteller. A damn good storyteller. Pound for pound, I have the best stories around. I will always say that because no one has lived the crazy life I have lived. I will always say that because no one knows movies like the way I know them. I even know them better than all those rich Hollywood types. That I promise. I’m writing a book because it is just another way for me to get my stories out and grow my writing repertoire. A true writer can write anything but a storyteller always has a story to tell. And this is also why I haven’t missed one single T-pisode in 250 straight Mondays. This is why I write.

I write for my friends and family who even though they have heard the story a thousand times, they get to read it one more time and still laugh. I write for the fans I have EARNED around the world in 80 different countries the last 5 years. I write for the future audiences that are going to pay to see my movies with their hard-earned money just to escape from their everyday realities for 2 hours. I write for the people who never heard of T-blawg but may pull my book off the shelf or download it just because they thought “Wow. This kid has been through some shit and he still has his sense of humor.” while looking for something to read on their commute home. I write for every single guy who has used the #wouldwife hashtag on the pic of a beautiful woman they admire because of me. I write for every other “writer” who has stolen a “Bro Code” chapter and passed it off as his own. I write for every single person who has tucked their hat low as an intentional or unintentional salute to everything my words have created here. I write for every person who once told me that I would never be anything in life and I proved so wrong. But most importantly, I write for me.

 
PS….thank you for caring about why I write the last 250 Mondays. I am honored and humbled beyond words.

 

Until next time. Always take it there.

T

 

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T-pisode 249: Dating Happy

This chapter in MY book will be 800 times longer. At least.

This chapter in MY book will be 800 times longer. At least.

I’ll start by saying that this is going to be a “nice” dating T-pisode, ok? I’m going on a nice guy tear here and not an angry T rant with this. I actually hope that all the angry dating writing is out of my system at this point in my life. Oh please Baby Jesus let it be out of my system!!! Alright, on to the nice shit. Let’s begin shall we? I think I’m onto something with all this dating stuff. I’ve done a lot of dating. No need for me to rehash any of those stories. You can go search “dating” down there on the left and you’ll get access to my dating library. I don’t want to read them anymore. I lived them. And moved on. So my latest “thing” on dating is what I like to call “Dating Happy” and while it may not be a mind-blowing revelation, it is one of those things that is so damn obvious you just can’t see it until someone points it out to you. And that someone is ol’ T over here.

A lot of people are not happy. It’s true. A lot of single people are not happy. A lot of single people are so unhappy that they think by dating they may find someone to make them happy. Well I got news for you. You are who you are. Dating someone will not make you happier if you are not already a happy person. If you don’t like your job, dating won’t make you happy. If you don’t like your morning and afternoon commute, dating won’t make you happy. If you don’t like your love handles, your beer belly, working out, your friends, your family, your apartment, your car….dating WILL NOT make you happy! Because you are just not a happy person. I’m sorry. But someone had to tell you. So get your shit together before your unhappy ass makes the person you are dating unhappy as well. BUT if you are already a happy person and you’re single and dating, guess what? You’re going to make that other already happy person you are dating that much more happier. And THAT’S what it is all about people. Two happy people coming together and making each other even happier!!! Not one miserable person trying to fill an empty hole in their life by only dating to find a happiness that they don’t already have inside of them. Not two miserable souls dating and making each other even more miserable. NO! You have to already be happy to date happy! See? It’s not rocket surgery or brain science. Wait, what? Life is to be enjoyed. Whether you are on your own or with the person you love. We’re on this great big beautiful planet for a short period of time to live, love and learn. If you’re all about those three things, then your ass is going to be happy. And if you have the mentality that dating will bring you someone else who also shares the same mindset of having one shot at this thing called life and just wants to live, love and learn with you, then you two will be “Dating Happy.” Boom. Mind blown after all, right? You’re welcome.

I’m a happy guy. Yes I am. It took some time to get here, but I am happy. I like to think that I make the women I date even happier. Especially now that I no longer date miserable women. My smiles are genuine because I’m happy. My laugh is loud because I’m happy. I’m happy with my job, my writing, my friends, my family…my life. And people know this. They see it. They feel it. People like being around happy people. People like to date other happy people. So go be happy. Find your happiness then go date. And find someone awesome enough who until you met them you didn’t think that you could possibly be any happier than you already were. But somehow she or he did it. They made you even happier. Be happy on your own and date until you are happier. That’s it. Simple, right?

 

 

Until next time. Always take it there.

T

 

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T-pisode 248: Off The DL

The Billy Ripken “Fuck Face” error card was one of the hardest cards to find when I was a kid. Today? It has very little value. Life lesson? Sometimes the rare ones turn out to be worth shit so be careful what you invest in.

The Billy Ripken “Fuck Face” error card was one of the hardest cards to find when I was a kid. Today? It has very little value. Life lesson? Sometimes the rare ones turn out to be worth shit so be careful what you invest in.

Four months. For four very long painful months I’ve been on the DL. The Disabled List. I was out of the game. The game of life. That’s right. I’m no friggin’ baseball player. But I was a pretty good shortstop as a kid for the record. No, I’m not talking baseball here. Even though I was injured and taken away from the game I love the most. But I’m good with analogies, metaphors, similes and I love sports so work with me here, ok people? I was mentally, physically and emotionally injured and I was no longer myself. I couldn’t perform at the high level I expect of myself. I’m not going to lie. I’m a man who can admit when he is hurting. I was hurt and I took myself out of the game of life. I swallowed my fucking pride. The pride that has guided me so far in life and I said to myself “I need to stop playing. I need to get out of the game and heal up.”

My mind was treated. My body was treated. My heart was treated. Then it was time for a little rehab. The funny thing about working on yourself is that you really are the only person that can make yourself get better. All the trainers (friends) and teammates (family) can give you all the tips, remedies and helping hands possible but at the beginning of the day it is up to you to get the fuck up and make your damn comeback. Even before the injury I was playing the game as a different player. I was a man no longer in his early rookie years but definitely not in the twilight of his career. I’ve won many games. Many individual titles. MVP a few times. Won over the hearts of many fans by being the underdog who changed the game for so long. But then I focused on what I thought at the time was my championship. My trophy. I got comfortable in my ways and lost the hunger I had to play the game like I used to because I thought I finally won the big one. I thought I finally had what I always wanted. But I was wrong. So wrong that I got hurt. I lost focus, became weak and got taken out. On the road to recovery you spend a lot of time analyzing how you played the game and why you lost instead of focusing on how you used to find a way to win all the time. How to be a great player again. After rehab I played a few games in the minors just to get my swing back. I learned to not go after my favorite pitch anymore. I learned how to be patient with the bat. I learned how to hit the slider. I learned how to play the game differently. Better. I learned that I no longer wanted to sit on the bench and watch the game get played without me. I got hungry again. I wanted my spot back. My spot in the majors. My spot in the lineup. My spot in life that took me so long to get. There is no better player than me when my mind, body and heart are all on the same page. There is no better man than me when I’m focused and determined to get what I want.

I just walked from the on-deck circle to the plate. Banged the dirt out of my cleats with the bat. I’m back in the fucking majors baby. A thousand things are moving around in my head at once as I stare down the pitcher. Am I ready? Can I hit like I used to? Can I run the bases as fast as I once did? Can I play the game smarter instead of harder at my age? I have to make sure I don’t look back. All the stats up until this moment don’t mean a fucking thing. I need to win again. I need to win it all this time. NOTHING and NO ONE will distract me this time. Stay healthy this time. Hit the ball more this time. Cross home plate more this time. Do what you do best…win. No matter what…win. And without realizing it I’m watching the ball clear the Green Monster. I’m fucking back.

 

Until next time. Always take it there.

T

 

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Can I live?

Just like Jay, this is for the people who have been down since day one. This is for the people who knew me before I ever tucked my hat low. For those who knew the kid from Eastie. For those who never judge me and love me no matter what. For those who are still here and will never leave. This is for all of you.

“Can I Live?”

 

 

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T-pisode 247: The Chingaderos

Sons of Anarchy may be ending soon but The Chingaderos will live forever holmes.

Sons of Anarchy may be ending soon but The Chingaderos will live forever holmes.

I’m in a gang. That’s right. It is a biker gang with a Latino name. And we’re all Caucasian and none of us have motorcycles. We don’t have leather cuts or colors. We don’t ship guns or do business with Mexican drug cartels. We have yet to patch over other biker gangs or expand charters into other states or countries. Sure some of us are parents and drive minivans. And yes we all have college degrees. And none of us have been to prison. But we are a biker gang nonetheless. In our heads. We were founded in 2000. We are “The Chingaderos.” And we are the baddest non-motorcycle, non-criminal biker gang to ever exist.

My cousin and his wife met in college as teenagers. At first I drove my cousin’s wife crazy. Because I did and said a lot of crazy shit at the time. You remember my infamous “Asshole Era” right? Well she met me right in the thick of that era. So one time in trying to win her over I bought her a book of swears for her birthday. Yes I did. It was a book with swears in every language. This way she could swear at me and express herself through many acts of profanity and violence. She loved the book. We all loved the book. We came across a swear word in Spanish…chingadero. It means little fucker. From that moment on we called each other chingadero and that Spanish swear word became our mantra. Our saying. It was us. Over the years as we grew closer the three of us called ourselves “The Chingaderos.” Any time we needed each other The Chingaderos would come together. Just going out; Hanging out; Holidays… At family functions we would sit together. You eat with the people you starved with. That’s one of our club rules. We’re big on loyalty too. As a biker gang you need to have each other’s backs. As the “Original 3″ we later brought in my cousin’s wife’s two younger brothers and her youngest brother’s lifelong best friend. The Chingaderos is a family. On any given day we’re texting each other such sweet and inspiring words followed by swearing at each other and very offensive YouTube videos that no other person should ever see. That’s how we are. We get each other. My cousin and his wife now have three kids. They are Chingadero prospects and are definitely the future of our club. Our church is my cousin’s kitchen. That’s where all club business is handled and decided. There is usually Patron and sippy cups all around us and a little dog trying to steal our food. Maybe one day one of us will learn how to drive a motorcycle. Or maybe we’ll just keep on being awesome as is.

I’m not saying you should go out and try to join a biker gang. Odds are, you’ll probably be killed on the spot. So maybe you should start your own gang. Make sure it’s with people you care about and who get each other like The Chingaderos do. Make sure the club acts like a family and you all have the same taste in TV shows like Sons of Anarchy, It’s Always Sunny In Philadelphia, The Sopranos, Entourage, Seinfeld and Game of Thrones. TV watching is big among non-motorcycle biker gangs. It brings you all closer together. And you have plenty to Facebook each other about during the week. Make sure you all have the same offensive sense of humor. But make sure you have each other’s backs no matter what. The Chingaderos, my gang.

 

Until next time. Always take it there.

T

 

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Massive #wouldwife

It’s been a while. So here are 5 #wouldwife women. That’s right…5.

 

Olivia Wilde

Olivia Wilde

Scarlett Johansson

Scarlett Johansson

Amber Heard

Amber Heard

Zoe Saldana

Zoe Saldana

Adriana Lima

Adriana Lima

 

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I’ll let Hugo by way of Jay-Z take this one today

“99 Problems”

 

 

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T-pisode 246: Bro Advice…Social Media

You desperate son of a bitch. Stop it bro. Be a man!

You desperate son of a bitch. Stop it bro. Be a man!

I have decided to do “spin-off” T-pisodes of my world-famous Bro Code chapters. I will use these spin-offs to give direct advice to the lesser men out there in the real world who are clearly stumbling on their own and need help from successful, mature, grown ass men such as myself. Because they’re starting to piss me off. PS…these won’t be nice.

 

Social media is one hell of a drug isn’t it? I mean where else in the world can you “recreate” yourself, give yourself a fake identity and say whatever you like without almost any repercussion? You can basically lie your ass off and totally convince a world of strangers, including women, on any social media platform that you are one amazing guy. Right? WRONG. That is by far one of the fucking most pathetic things you could ever do as a man and it’s time ol’ T over here calls all your asses out for your own damn good. For the good of better men. For the good of so many naïve women. And for my own good before I unleash the beast on all of you on your own shit and publicly embarrass the fuck out of you.

Look, I get it. Some of you have zero real life game. Some of you have no personality. Some of you have no character. Some of you make very little money. Some of you NEED social media to “meet” women. I get it. I know real life losers so of course I can easily spot the pretenders on Twitter. On Facebook. On Instagram. Not even acknowledging SnapChat because that shit is for teenagers. Stop it. The term all the kids use today is “thirsty” right? There are some thirsty dudes…the thirst is real…right? Ok. You’re thirsty. You’re thirsty enough to be that guy on Twitter who follows local pretty girls, club bottle girls, bartenders, wannabe models, real life models, pornstars. Your timeline is one tweet to one girl followed by another to a different girl then another to some other girl as you desperately try to make something happen. Maybe a #wcw in between. Maybe a retweet from one of your fellow poser boys. You Instagram selfies. You do it in the bathroom. You love to do it in your car. You do the kissy face like some fucking little teenage girl. You Instagram yourself on the end of the bench looking in the mirror flexing but acting like you’re not flexing at the gym. Hoping that you get a “like” from some chick and in your fucked up head you think she’s into you and use that “like” as validation for contacting her. You’re so delusional dude. Now go like all of her pics, because that’s how you get grown ass women, stupid. Be sure to comment “Wen we chilen’ ma?” too. They love that shit. You Instagram that same empty Ace of Spades bottle from the club that you begged a promoter to give to you at the end of the night 3 weeks ago but now you place it on your piece of shit coffee table or when you’re eating breakfast your mom cooked for you. The fuck? But I’ve never seen you in any hotspots in town son!!! Who are you again?! I’ve never seen you eating steak at that restaurant you “checked in” and took a #foodporn pic of neither. You have over 70,000 tweets…you ain’t got no job brah! And if you’re out living this balla’ life, why are you staying in and tweeting so many girls on a Saturday night? That watch is fake too. So isn’t that chain. The car isn’t yours either. Your suit and shoes cost $70 combined. The suit isn’t fitting you right either bro. See a tailor. You’re still in your childhood bedroom at home because I see your mother’s framed family pics in your pics’ backgrounds. Clown. Dudes who live on their own don’t have that shit. You also have two Facebook accounts? Why? Oh yeah, to keep one for your ratchet girlfriend to see and the other account with a slightly changed name so you can meet other girls online. Pathetic. Your son looks hungry bro. Either pay that child support or get him a burger instead of putting up a pic of your “fresh” haircut. Why look fresh? So you can wait in line and never get into the club because no matter how tight your sneaker game is your ass needs shoes to get in?! Come on. Stop trying to DM girls who are in relationships too. Who never met you in real life. You don’t know what it takes to make her smile because you’ve never seen that smile in person. Only through “likes” on her social media. You’re soft. You spit game in 140 characters but couldn’t walk up to a woman and introduce yourself and tell her your name; what you do for a living; where you live; ask her questions; make her laugh in an actual face to face conversation…because you’re just another thirsty social media pretender and you live a make-believe life on the fucking internet. You are nothing more. Game over…T just fucking buried you all.

Real men have social media accounts too. I sure do. I know how to flirt and be polite and compliment on there as well. But I show no thirst. Because I get my water in the real world. And I can drink from many wells if I chose to. Why does this bother me so much? Because I have no respect for dudes that live lies, whether in real life or on social media. It’s an insult to me and everything I am. It’s also more insulting when people actually believe their bullshit lies and fake lives. Dude, your words are someone else’s. Your pics are filtered with mirages. Your DMs are so dry and scream loser. Enough. You’ve been exposed. Make changes. Be better men. And ladies who buy into this nonsense, stop it. Now you see the truth. Now you can start the unfriending and unfollowing. Want more for yourselves ladies. Don’t entertain these clowns. Fellas, I’m pulling back on social media so it’s up to all of you to call these pretenders to our thrones out. Remember, real men work for the truth they don’t hustle lies.

 

Until next time. Always take it there.

T

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The Grown Man Social Media Change

I have reached a certain age in life…a certain point in life where I no longer find the “fun” in social media. Where I really no longer have a lot of use for social media. It is now a distraction and creates what is mostly unnecessary for “me” instead of benefitting T-blawg. I didn’t start T-blawg for social media “likes” or favorites. I started it so there would always be a place where I could share my stories, my style of writing and entertain people who didn’t know the guy under the hat. Social media was great at first when it directed people to T-blawg. It still does that in many ways but it’s just not for me to partake in on a daily basis anymore. It is only for T-blawg and I have to remember that. This is the last step in separating my “real” life from my “T-blawg” life. It was one hell of a run though!!!

As of tomorrow, my Twitter will be for sharing T-pisodes and answering any T-blawg related questions and comments. My Facebook page will also be for sharing T-pisodes but will include funny memes, cool Boston pics and random T thoughts from time to time. My Instagram will continue to be full of the awesomeness that I enjoy from a T-blawg perspective. T-blawg.com itself… Well I turned the email off but the comments are back on with my approval.

I’m a grown man now and this is a grown man and a personal decision. And a business decision. Hope you all respect it. But who knows, I can change my mind one day. Maybe when the book is out and I need to spread the word. But for now, it is what it is….

 

Thanks,

T

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T-pisode 245: This Year’s Birthday

Why thank you Kate Upton! But I am officially too damn old for your young ass.

Why thank you Kate Upton! But I am officially too damn old for your young ass.

January 2008… I lived in East Boston my entire life then spent 9 years living in Revere. I had accomplished a lot and nobody had murdered me up until that point. But I had a lot more I needed to do in life. So I had a conversation with my sister whose in-law apartment I had lived in since college. I had a conversation with my cousin who I went to for advice on pretty much everything. I told them both it was time for me to move into the city. I had a list of “To Dos” and I had convinced myself that I needed 5 years to check them all off my list and the only way I was going to do it was to move away from my closest friends and family and become the man I truly believed I was meant to be. It was time for me to grow up. It was time for me to move into Boston.

Three months later I was living in an expensive apartment on an expensive street in Boston’s most expensive neighborhood, Back Bay. I went big out of the gate. It was how I rolled. My apartment became the epicenter of business during the day and mayhem at night. My next door neighbor was insanely hot. She came over often. Down the street was my college homegirl. We partied all the time. Tom Brady lived on my street and I saw Tommy a lot. I was deep in the mix. And I LOVED it. This WAS my new life. I worked hard. Partied harder. What about those “To Dos” you ask? Move into the city…check. Build a professional & social network…check. Get on every Boston movie set…check. Turn a contract gig into a full-time 6 figure career…check. Date and hook up, a lot…check. Pitch scripts in Hollywood, a lot…check. Travel the world…check. Pay off all student loans & debt….check. Go out every night with my “city” friends….check. No more just lifting weights and learn anything new like Muay Thai, Brazilian jiu-jitsu, dirty boxing….check. Go to every single Red Sox/Bruins/Patriots/Celtics game that I want to…check. Get on every list, know every doorman, and befriend every GM & owner in every hot spot in Boston….check. Start a social media company and after it fails still have a hit website by the name of T-blawg…check. Spoil the shit out of the people I love…check. And allow myself no time for serious relationships because I have to focus on me and be alone to do all of this….check. That last one was the only mistake. I know that now. Every single damn “To Do” was checked off my list and they were all done in those first 5 years after the big city move. And when I woke up one day at the end of that fifth year the jerk finally realized he somehow became a gentleman. I built from that hard work. Off of all that craziness. Off of all those accomplishments. All those failures. All the mistakes. But I was exactly where I wanted to be. I was a new man. A grown man. I wasn’t T-Dog anymore. And I found myself asking “What’s next?” What do I have left to accomplish as a single man in this world? Where do I go from here? That was the billion dollar question. That was the 500 pound elephant in the room. Nobody asked me if I could do all those things that I did the last 5 years. Nobody was asking me what’s next either. But I was asking myself. Where do I go from here in my life? What is next for me?

August 2014… It’s my birthday month once again and I always reflect around my birthday. This week is my actual birthday and I realized that I spent the last year of my life changing some of the things I embraced during those 5 years I just wrote about. While my ambition and work ethic didn’t change, my views on family, relationships, dating, romance, love and life have in many ways. Those changes have been well documented here on this site. While reflecting I realized that this site became something else and now I’m writing a book about it; I’ve had Hollywood on the hook a few times; I’ve visited places around the world that nobody from my childhood neighborhood has ever seen. So on this birthday and at this point in my life I’m ready to move on from those 5 years. I don’t need to prove anything to young, single T anymore. I did it. I did it all. So where to from here? For grownup T? A serious relationship…marriage…kids…writing as a career…moving out of the city to the suburbs? Is that my next chapter? Is that what’s next? Possibly. I don’t know. I just know that I’m done asking what’s next and I am going to make it happen. I’m not the type to sit still. Once I figure out what’s next, I’m coming for it. I’m coming for it all just like I did when I made up my mind to move into the city all those years ago. It’s still how I roll. I’m gonna get mine. Always have. Always will. That next chapter….time to write it. Happy birthday to me.

 

 

Until next time. Always take it there.

T

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T-pisode 244: For The Ladies

Some say I'm a ladies man. Some say I don't know shit. Either way, I definitely know more than this guy.

Some say I’m a ladies man. Some say I don’t know shit. Either way, I definitely know more than this guy.

I’ve written a lot about guy stuff, I know. From Bro Code to Grown Man Shit to #wouldwife posts. And obviously every T-pisode is written from a guy’s point of view. This guy. THE GUY!!! There is still only one T and don’t ever forget it. But still, half of my audience is female. And you all know T appreciates the ladies. You ladies all seem to get something out of my stories and advice just as much as the fellas do. I’m honored that you take my words to heart. So I want to do a list for you ladies. I haven’t done a list in a very long time. My apologies. But this list is for the ladies…T style of course.

 

Ladies… Appreciate yourselves. Don’t sell yourselves short. Don’t doubt how special you are. Not for one second. Know that we guys see in you what you sometimes can’t see in yourself but you have to appreciate yourself first or lesser men will disrespect you.

Ladies… Don’t waste your time on lesser men. Don’t date them. Don’t get into relationships with them. Don’t even entertain them. Not their compliments. Not their phone calls. Not their texts. Not their Facebook likes. Not their Twitter DMs. Not their SnapChat or Instagram pics. You’re only making yourselves lesser women that way and we real men see this.

Ladies… Work. Work for it all. Get your education. Get your career. Get out on your own. Don’t ever wait for a man to do it for you. The more you have to offer yourselves the more a real man will appreciate and love you for it. Show us you don’t need us first then we’ll want you and love you even more.

Ladies… Don’t ever pity yourselves. You control your own life. Every situation you put yourself in. Don’t blame your man, your parents, your friends, your job, your family. Everything you say and do, you control. No excuses. A strong woman is what real men want.

Ladies… Embrace your fucking body. Thin. Curvy. Fat. Jacked. Whatever. Own your shit. Work out if you want. Sleep in if you want. But realize that real men want you to eat when they take you out on a date. Fuck salad.

Ladies… Communicate. I know your sex likes to over think every single little thing and then let’s all those little things build up into one giant volcano until you erupt on us guys. It’s not ok. We understand but it’s not ok. Stop creating negative things that don’t exist. That NEVER existed. Don’t rewrite our history in a negative way that never happened. If we love you we know how to read you…to an extent. But you need to talk to us. Communicate ALL THE TIME. Then our relationship will be so much better, I promise.

Ladies… Stop bringing up the past. What we guys did is done. What your parents said is done. What your girlfriend started an argument about back in college is done. Let the negative go. No one likes it when you bring up old stuff that we thought we moved on from and you continue to throw it in our faces. So not cool.

Ladies… Always remember that a girl wants the attention of many men but a WOMAN wants the attention of just one man.

Ladies…Take your time when you are getting ready. Yeah I said it. We may get a little agitated waiting but nothing is sexier than watching you get ready for us. Of course we appreciate you all natural in sweats without makeup but knowing that you are doing all that just to look good to go out with us is one hell of a turn on.

Ladies… I know you take pride in “knowing” everything we do but guess what? We see and know everything you’re doing too. If the relationship is healthy, neither of us should be doing anything shady. If you think what you’re doing is wrong and would hurt us…guess what? Don’t do it.

Ladies… The good guys deserve one, two, three, four chances to get it right with you. The douchebags don’t. They never even should’ve had that first chance with you.

Ladies… Trust me when I say this, every guy you know wants to have sex with you. A real man will always trust his woman but will NEVER trust any other guy in her life. Why? Because we’re guys too. And each of us at one time has been that guy trying to get with a girl who has a man. And some of us have succeeded. Once again, DO NOT even entertain the other guy because we’re not entertaining any other women. Well, we real men aren’t.

Ladies… The things that you think make you weird, we find very cute. Don’t worry, you’re good.

Ladies… Please don’t complain about us to your friends before you talk to us first. That isn’t healthy. If we have a problem we’re the only two who can address it and fix it. It’s ok to vent to your friends, we’re guys and we’ll do stupid things. But let us know we’re stupid first, ok?

Ladies… Put your money away. Real men pay. Always.

Ladies… It doesn’t matter how beautiful you are on the outside. It doesn’t matter how beautiful you are on the inside. The one thing that we love more than anything about you is being able to make you laugh and putting a smile on your face whenever possible. If we can make you smile and keep you smiling, we’ll do everything to keep you forever.

Well I hope you enjoyed that list ladies. It was as honest a list I could come up with for all of you. Just know that it takes a long time for a man to grow up and really appreciate women for what they are. Our mothers and sisters teach us a lot as boys but it isn’t until we come into our own as real grown men that we can really value women. So we real men DO appreciate, love, respect and value you ladies. We really do. Just do the same for yourselves and for us. That’s all I ask.

 

Until next time. Always take it there.

T

 

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I’ll let Joe Budden take this one on this Sunday morning

My life currently…

 

 

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T-pisode 243: Dating Sabbatical 2

You may be right angry Bill Reilly. You may be right.

You may be right angry Bill Reilly. You may be right.

Two years. Two damn years already. Come this Fall it will be two years since I went on my now infamous dating sabbatical. I quit dating for 3 months and did a post every day for the last 17 days of it detailing what I was going through during the sabbatical. How fast time flies huh? At the time, I needed a break. Dating stopped being fun. The girls stopped being fun. I stopped being fun. I put dating on pause and focused on myself. I grew a very thick beard. I became a social recluse and refused to be seen in public. I went insane. Most of that is true. Either way, I needed a break from dating. And guess what? I need another break from it now. Hence, the sequel that you are now reading.

This dating sabbatical isn’t so much by choice this time. It’s just the way the cards have fallen in my life. I feel like I’m in some sort of limbo when it comes to the relationship/dating part of my life. It’s on hold. It’s stopped. It’s not there. Whatever it is, it’s not happening right now. And I’m kind of cool with it now. Well today I am. Tomorrow I may unleash the Kraken. Who the fuck knows. And honestly, who the fuck cares. I don’t want to date. I don’t want to even write about dating. I don’t want to check in on Facebook on my dates. I don’t want to Instagram the dinner I’m eating on my dates. I don’t want to fucking tweet about how good or how bad my dates went. I’m done. This also goes back to how I’m separating myself, my personal life to an extent from the T-blawg world I created. I need to focus on me right now. My health is an issue. My day job is keeping me busy. I have to write this book. I have birthdays, bachelor parties, weddings and Patriots football soon. That will keep me busy enough, trust me. And honestly? Dating at my age? I have zero interest in getting back out there. Zero. Don’t get me wrong, I have had opportunities recently. And I passed. Yep. I don’t want those girls. I don’t want those T-blawg groupies. And I don’t want women I’ve known for some time who all of sudden think that because I was in a serious relationship recently can just hit me up. “Oh T CAN be in a relationship now. He’s finally mature now. Oh T is single now.” I’m all set. There’s a reason why we didn’t date before and those reasons still stand. I don’t want to date you. You really shouldn’t don’t want to date me. And yes, I am one hell of a fucking catch. I got it going on baby and it’s great that you see the awesomeness and want a piece of the awesomeness. But no dating T for you! Or you. I’m out the game. Grown Man Shit. Priorities. I’m on sabbatical once again. When will I be back? I don’t know. Maybe never again. I’ve done it all.

It’s hard for me to imagine that I can find what I had recently. It took a lifetime to get that. So I don’t want to look for it again. Whatever is going to happen for me as far as romance, dating and relationships go are going to have to happen on their own. If it’s meant to be, whatever it is, then it will have to happen without me being actively involved. Without my help this time. I’m throwing my relationship future into the hands of the dating gods and I now have faith in them to lead me where I need to go. Where I should be and whom I should be with. I hope they show me mercy because I can only work on the things that I need to work on right now and dating isn’t one of them. So from this point on, T is once again on a dating sabbatical. I threw my razors away.

 

Until next time. Always take it there.

T

 

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#wouldwife

Amber Heard

Amber Heard

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T-pisode 242: T-cation 2

Marky Mark was in town for my T-cation but he wouldn't get off the phone with Donnie and the rest of the fucking New Kids!

Marky Mark was in town for my T-cation but he wouldn’t get off the phone with Donnie and the rest of the fucking New Kids!

Almost two years ago I invented the T-cation. Yes, I’m also an inventor. Don’t hate. It’s my take on the staycation. AKA the vacation when you stay home. Well this time around I didn’t just sit around on my ass and do nothing. Well there was some of that. And I actually did manage to get a solid 8 hours sleep every night for one week straight. I don’t think I’ve ever done that in my life. Like ever. I plan to make that stick some how. This T-cation was pretty much an emergency T-cation. The last few months of my life have been crazy as shit and I basically told my manager that I was going to drop dead in front of the entire fucking office if I didn’t finally take some time off. So while I had hoped to take a week off and go to California with my nieces to see friends and hit up Disneyland, the last-minute vacation approval had me staying in Boston for another T-cation.

The goal of this T-cation was to relax, rebuild and refocus while detaching completely from the office and my normal “everyday” routine. The T-cation started with a cookout with my family, shooting the shit and playing UNO. Much needed quality time where I just got to be a son, brother and uncle. Hats I wear more easily than even this Red Sox hat. The next morning I had an MRI AKA “The 30 minute techno coffin from hell” and a follow-up doctor’s appointment. I now know what’s wrong with my fucked up arm. It turns out I have a disc pressing on a nerve and nerve damage in my neck. Fine. I finally know what it is after months of pain, drama & bullshit. I’m starting steroid shots this week and I can’t lift weights or do body resistance or even dirty box for a few more months but I can at least do cardio. It is what it is (I hate that saying too) and I’m dealing. So I’m content. For now. I then had lunch with a very special pretty lady. A friend who has been dealing with her own health issues. She put shit into perspective for me and has also been there for me the last few months and is a fucking inspiration. Seeing her and her straight shooting demeanor were exactly what my ass needed. Apparently I also needed a trip to the casino the following night. Hadn’t done a late night casino run in years. That shit felt good. Crazy, but good. The next night I went old school with some college pals. My homegirl for 19 years also broke shit down for me over sushi, drinks and music provided by our boy from college. A must needed night out and mini college reunion for all. Then I took my entire family out to dinner to celebrate my parents’ birthdays and anniversary the following night. We had one hell of a meal and the entire cast of “Ted 2” ate next to us. No the teddy bear wasn’t there. No I didn’t make Mila Kunis my baby mama and steal her from douchebag Ashton Kutcher. No I did not get Mark Wahlberg or Seth MacFarlane to turn T-blawg or one of my scripts into a movie. But don’t worry. All those Hollywood fuckers are in town for the next 3 months and Boston is MY city! You best believe I WILL run into them again. That’s how I roll. Finally, I got to catch up with a good buddy over drinks. And he also opened up about what was going on his life while giving me a shit ton of advice. Then I spent the last two days writing and watching movies. Two of my favorite things in the world. This T-cation made me realize just how fucking amazing my inner circle of friends and family really is. I’m a very humbled and an extremely appreciative man as I look back on the past week and write this.

Did I relax? Yep. Did I rebuild? I started to. Am I refocused? Oh fuck yes I am. But I also got to see some of my favorite people who are going through shit just like me. Some are going through a lot more than me. And it made me realize that we all have our own battles and struggles when it comes to relationships, family, our health and careers. You just can’t push yourself to the point of total mental, emotional and physical exhaustion. If you don’t take the time to chill the fuck out, catch up with your people and relax, that crazy shit that makes up your “everyday” life will spiral even more out of control. I planned to figure out things on my own this week but I’m glad I spent time with these awesome people because their takes on my life and their own lives opened my eyes and they made me feel a shit ton better. My T-cation is over. But it was EXACTLY what the fuck I needed. So you don’t always have to take a vacation and go away, but you should take a vacation from your “everyday” life shit and go spend time with people who care about you. Who will be there for you. Who want to be in your life without any excuses. They got your back. Now go tell your boss you need a T-cation because T says so.

 

 

Until next time. Always take it there.

T

 

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I’ll let Rocky Balboa take this one tonight…wait, what?

My staycation is over and it’s back to work tomorrow. And this is how it’s about to go down!

 

 

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I’ll let Kanye take this one this afternoon

“Runaway”

 

 

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T-pisode 241: Ol’ T, New Feelings

Mind friggin' blown if you look at it this way!

Mind friggin’ blown if you look at it this way!

It’s crazy but I can sit here and write to all of you about a shit ton of different things. For instance, what it takes to meet women. How to date them. How to hook up with them. How to make them laugh. How to woo them. How to treat them right. I can go on and on about what it takes to make something out of your life. Want to make it in corporate America? Want to see what’s it like to pitch something you poured your heart into to a Hollywood executive just for them to say no? Need to know what it’s like to live, breathe and bleed the great city of Boston for an entire lifetime? Want to know how a poor kid can grow up into a successful gentleman and beat the odds? How about what it’s like sharing your life under a tucked Red Sox hat and having millions of people from around the world think you’re somebody important for 5 years because of something called #wouldwife or Bro Code? I can go on and on about a lot of things. But something I still don’t know a lot about is love. Pure, honest, unselfish love and love during and love after.

Sure I took a crack at defining the word love when I went on my 10 week word defining series tear. But that was different. I was different. Love for me was different. It wasn’t “love” love. Because I wasn’t in love when I wrote it. I didn’t just come out of love when I wrote it either. I know it’s crazy at my age to finally feel what I went through recently. I know it’s crazy to be going through what I’m going through now. Part of me is so damn glad it did happen. Part of me is so damn pissed at myself for “letting” it happen. Yeah, because you have a choice right? No. When you’re in love there is this amazing feeling that just stays with you. All…the…time. You jump out of bed more eager to start the day. Your smiles are wider than they’ve ever been. Your food tastes better. Your work at the office is on another level. Your workouts at the gym are more fun. People notice that you’re happier. Everything that you had before that feeling is just that much more amazing while you are in love. But when it stops, you are left with a void. For me it was a new void. It feels like something is missing from your life and everything comes back down to normal levels or even below what they were before love. So you try to fill that void. More work. More writing. More working out. More time with friends and family. More thinking. You try to go back to your old ways. You also try new things. But no matter what you do you can’t fill that feeling that is now missing from your heart. From your mind. From your soul. The feeling of love and the feeling of “life after love” are so powerful in their own ways. Every day I flip-flop. Every day. I want to feel that again. No I don’t want to feel that again. Will I ever feel that again? Why do I still feel like this? Am I still in love? Yes I am. Should I be? I’m not sure. What the hell was I feeling before all of this? Why can’t I go back? Do I even want to go back? It’s strange and I’m not sure why this happens to us as human beings. They say it’s better to have loved and lost than to never have loved at all. Maybe “they” were right. Or maybe I’m going to punch “they” in the throat. I’m not sure yet. I’m not sure about a lot of things right now as far as love goes. I thought at this point in my life I was good. I had it all figured out. But I don’t. These new feelings changed me completely. For the better? To be determined people.

Maybe I’m not supposed to have it all figured out. Maybe this was all supposed to happen this way. Life’s grand scheme for T perhaps? I guess you’re never too old to stop learning because life is always going to teach you something. Me? I’m always planning for the future. I always like to be ready for everything. I’ve always wanted to be 5 steps ahead of anything life was going to throw at me. I CAN’T be like that anymore. I need to live more in the now. Love and life after love has taught ol’ T that much. These new feelings changed the course of my life. That much I know. Whatever is meant to be is going to happen one way or the other. You can’t plan everything. You can’t prepare for love. You can’t prepare for what it’s like after love. Live for the here and now and enjoy whatever comes your way. Don’t plan for it. Don’t force it. Just embrace it and go with it. And by it of course I mean love. Whatever “love” is for you.

 

Until next time. Always take it there.

T

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T-pisode 240: Happy Birthday Ma

Tens of thousands have done this in the last 5 years but this is by far my favorite T-blawg Pose

Tens of thousands have done this in the last 5 years but this is by far my favorite T-blawg Pose

Two birthday tribute T-pisodes in three weeks? Yep. Just like my cousin, my mother is hitting a milestone birthday this week and I thought it was time to give her a special T-pisode of her own. My mother doesn’t read T-blawg. She hardly even understands the internet. But she knows T-blawg exists and thinks that people are crazy for reading my stories and for doing “your stupid hat thing” as she likes to call it. I’ve written about my mother many times here on the site but I never wrote a T-pisode all about her. So I’m going to do my best to give the greatest mother of all time a very special birthday tribute. No one deserves it more than her.

My mother is a second generation East Boston woman. So that means she has “tough” in her DNA. She is the funniest, craziest, most easy-going person you could ever meet but she is also absolutely one of the strongest and toughest people I have ever known. Where did I get my drive and fear of sleep? How about watching my mother get up at 5AM to go care for and bath elderly people then go to her job at Burger King which she did for the extra income and to make sure I always had a place to have my birthday parties then to her job at the local grocery store. She never slept. She never complained. She always worked. She just did what she had to do to take care of her two kids. Give her a couple of cups of coffee and bingo a few nights a week and she was good. I would always tell her that when I made it big that I would take care of her and she would always say “I don’t want anything. As long as you’re happy, I’m happy.” Growing up my mother was my mother, my father and my best friend. I was absolutely the stereotypical Italian mother’s boy. I was always up my mother’s ass. There wasn’t anyone that I wanted to make laugh more than my mother. I busted her balls all the time. Out of love. Anyone who didn’t know our relationship would probably think that I was the worst son and she was the worst mother the way we talked to each other. I would always call her by her first name with “Ma” being a distant second. She would call me “asshole” or “pain in the ass” mostly followed by her telling me to “get the fuck outta here” with the biggest smile on her face. We’re still that way with each other. My mother would always tell me that I was smarter than the other kids. That I had something most Eastie kids didn’t. She told me to go to school and get good grades and to not be an asshole. A lot. So I listened. Most of the time. I never had rules or a curfew she just told me “Don’t ever call me from jail or the hospital” so I never did. I always worked, got straight A’s, had perfect attendance and always gave her money when I could. But she never knew about half the shit I did outside of school because I never wanted to add more stress to her life. I remember her having her first operation when I was 8 years old. Then again when I was 16. And two years ago. And 6 weeks ago. She beat cancer twice and is besting neuropathy. I don’t know how she does it. Her heart and strength is what keeps my family together. I know that I should’ve went down another road in life but because of her I didn’t. I couldn’t. The last thing I could ever do is let my mother down and because of her I am the man I am today. So thank you so much Ma. For everything. For showing me how to laugh when times are tough. For showing me that nobody owes me shit and that I have to work for everything. For showing me that I should ALWAYS put the people I love ahead of myself. For staying in the hospital with me when I was sick as a baby. For always believing in me. For bringing me with you every Saturday to see dad in prison to keep me out of that life. For making sure I didn’t piss away my life like so many kids I grew up with. For always having food on the table and clothes on my back. For not killing me when I was bad! But mostly for making a tough life a little easier for your crazy, hot-headed, wiseass son.

It’s tough to get my mother anything for her birthday. She will honestly say “Don’t get me shit!” every birthday and holiday. She just loves it when the family gets together and we sit around and laugh and bust balls. My mother doesn’t ask for anything so if she just wants to laugh then I will put the biggest smile on her face. She is my biggest fan and thinks I’m the funniest asshole around. I know all the gifts, money and trips to Italy will never make my mother smile as much as me sitting across from her and busting her balls like only I can. So happy birthday Ma. After this year and the life you’ve lived you deserve to be happy not only on your birthday but every single fucking day of your life. Nobody deserves it more than you. Nobody.

“And even though I act crazy, I gotta thank the Lord that you made me.”

Until next time. Always take it there.

T

 

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They gonna love me for my ambition…

T-pisode 224: Ambition

 

 

 

 

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I’ll let Rick Ross take this one tonight

Doing a lot of thinking, refocusing, planning and changing lately…

 

“Rich Forever”

 

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T-pisode 239: Separating T

This hat has represented a big part of my life and I'm proud of that. But my life is way more than that.

This hat has represented a big part of my life and I’m proud of that. But my life is way more than that.

I have a confession to make. I’m not the guy you all think I am. Well I am. But I’m not. Wait, what? Since I started this site I made it my mission to tell my life story as entertaining as possible so obviously I started from the beginning 5 years ago. Then it took about 3 years for all the stories to be told and then the site caught up to my life today. It’s really difficult now to find that line that separates the guy under the hat from the man I am today. And it sucks sometimes. I’m all of those things I said I am. All of those stories are true. I believe in every chapter of the Bro Code I came up with through what life taught me. But I need to separate somehow.

Running T-blawg means not only putting up a T-pisode every Monday and not only writing the book I’m working on but also putting up content on all things T-blawg related. That includes Facebook, Twitter and Instagram. I feel like I’ve been over sharing my life too much. I feel over exposed. Sometimes I don’t know if it’s something T would say who’s tweeting or something the man I am today would say. I don’t know. The crazy thing is, it’s all still me! And that feeling is happening far too much for me lately. While all things T-blawg are still fun for me and I still love what I’m doing with it, it’s still just a small part of my life. T-blawg isn’t my ENTIRE life so why do I feel like sometimes I’m sharing my entire life? My every thought? My every opinion? My every moment? I have to reel it in guys. I can’t share every thought in my head on Twitter. I can’t post every meme and T-blawg Pose pic some hot chick sent me that I like on Facebook. I can’t be out with a woman I love and stop to do a T-blawg Pose or a #foodporn pic for Instagram every time I’m out. And I can’t put someone I deeply care about on blast on a T-pisode. I know you all didn’t ask for this. I know I gave it all voluntarily. This is on me, I know. I preach “Grown Man Shit” and I sometimes don’t act like a grown man when it comes to T-blawg or social media and that makes me feel embarrassed. Disappointed. Hell, I only have a Facebook page when it comes to my “personal” life but even there I need to chill the fuck out. Going forward I can’t let everyone know where I am, who I’m with and what I’m thinking or doing. Enough. Back to the “Grown Man Shit” that I made my motto. I am someone who practices what he preaches but I think the preaching has overshadowed the practicing a bit too much for my liking lately so I need to separate. I need to find a balance between MY life and T’s life. I know that sounds crazy and that you all may think I need drugs. Or therapy. Of course I need therapy. I never claimed to be sane. But the line in the sand has been drawn as of this moment.

The point of everything T-blawg related is still to get you all to come here to read. To enjoy. To laugh. To maybe learn. To get inspired. COME HERE. That was always the plan. The social media stuff is both a blessing and a curse. My honesty and the need to speak my mind all the fucking time are both a blessing and a curse as well. I make mistakes. I’m human. But I am a man who recognizes a problem and then solves it. Then I move the fuck on. I am working on this now. Please take my social media for what they are. Just know that there is a guy with a life under that hat that still has real life problems and real life people in his life. Without all of that, there would be no T-blawg. So from this point on, I’m going to do my best to separate me from T. Wish me luck. I’m going to need it. And you all should put your phones down more too. I wish you all luck as well. Maybe we all should work on this separation thing a little more.

 

 

Until next time. Always take it there.

T

 

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I’ll let Jay-Z himself take this one tonight

What a week. It was a great week. And now I’m just feeling this tonight with all these thoughts running through my head…

“Lost One”

 

 

 

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A Happy July 4th #wouldwife!

Arianny Celeste

Arianny Celeste

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“Forever Young” in Gillette

Saw Jay-Z perform “Forever Young” in Fenway Park with Justin. Saw it in the Boston Garden by himself. And now Jay-Z and Beyonce in Gillette. This one trumps them all. And with that ladies & gentlemen, I saw Jay-Z 4 times in less than 2 years and now ol’ T is officially retired from concerts. Raise my jersey to the rafters. One hell of a way to go out.

 

 

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T-pisode 238: Starsky & Hutch

The man himself in front of his crucifix collection from around the world.

The man himself in front of his crucifix collection from around the world.

This week is my cousin’s birthday. Yes, THAT cousin. My right hand man. My partner in crime. My best friend. My brother. You have read about him countless times on this site and with his milestone birthday this week I thought it was about time he got his own special T-pisode. I can’t do the man and our relationship justice in 3 paragraphs but I’ll attempt to put some words together and come up with a decent tribute to the man. And believe me, he is without a doubt one of the greatest men I have ever known. There are 3 men I know I can always depend on no matter what. This guy, my bro-in-law and my closest Eastie buddy. But there isn’t anyone on this entire planet that has had my back like him. Whether I was right or wrong. Bad or good. And that means the fucking world to me.

My cousin is two years younger than me and we’ve been best friends since his birth. We were in diapers together. We went to different schools growing up but that never stopped us from seeing each other or talking on the phone every day. He was the skinny punk kid. I was the chubby crazy kid. He started fights. I ended them. He wanted to talk to girls. I wanted to blow things up. He would say something offensive then I would say something even worse. But underneath it all, we were essentially the same person. We grew up hard and fast, relying on each other for answers and when one of us couldn’t solve the problem, the other one did. We fought entire groups of Eastie kids together. We fought entire boys clubs together. We fought entire school dances together. We fought gangs together. We fought entire college frat houses together. We made our bones in Boston. Hell we even made our bones in New York City. The two of us took on the world and survived. Then we grew up. We stopped hustling for money and went legit. Between the two of us we probably worked like 6 jobs at any given time. We put ourselves through college. We started at the bottom rung of the corporate America ladder together and climbed our way to the top. We still both have our hustle outside of our “day” jobs and we both still believe in those hustles even when we doubt ourselves. We share that unmatched ambition. I watched him grow up and marry the woman of his dreams. I stood beside him on his wedding day as his best man. His wife became my family and I tatted the birthday card on my arm that they gave me asking me to be their first daughter’s godfather. I watched him build a home. Create a family. I was by his side when family members left. But I would never leave and I know he’ll always be there for me. We both can run a conversation and hold an audience with our story telling abilities. Don’t get us going! But when we talk about anything alone together, the world pauses for a minute. Because the two of us are getting our shit together. And then we’re good again. And then we can take on the world again. Today, this punk Eastie kid is on school boards. He teaches rooms full of people how to sell. He inspires people with his Facebook updates. His kids look at him like he is the greatest dad in the world. Because he is. He is my idol. And I know I’ll be lucky to be half the man, dad and husband he is someday.

The world doesn’t have many stand up, honest, hard-working, ambitious men in it. It really doesn’t. The way we grew up we both know we should either be dead or in jail. But we push each other today to be better men than we were yesterday. Sometimes I think he pushes me way more than I push him. He is a good man. No, he is a great man. And on this milestone birthday he deserves to be celebrated and appreciated for a life lived that no one really expected for him. Except for me. I always knew he would be great. So I say to you my brother, happy birthday and thank you for being you because my life would be boring as shit without you in it. You didn’t raise the bar. You are the fucking bar. Enjoy your day. It is well deserved. This is YOUR T-pisode. Today it is a “Stam-pisode.”

 

Until next time. Always take it there.

T

 

“Who thought we’d make it in life? We did, that’s who.”

 

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I’ll let Fab & Ne-Yo take this one

“Make Me Better”

 

 

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#wouldwife

Olivia Munn

Olivia Munn

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Time to smile again

I hardly ever write anything on the site during the week. I usually stick to witty comments on Twitter, funny stuff on the Facebook page, a cool Boston pic or T-blawg Pose on Instagram with the occasional #wouldwife and YouTube video on here. Monday still is, was and will always be T-blawg Day. But it’s no secret that the past month has been a trying time for me. Hell, even before that when I found out back in March my mother needed another surgery. The last few months were tough and I sort of lost my mojo and it all came to a head last month. I’m not going to rehash everything here tonight. I’m also not going to apologize for what I put up on the site recently. Because I promised to stay honest and never apologize for any T-pisode. Ever. Right or wrong. Usual positive T style or not. I have to stay true to this site. I have to keep my word. It means more to me than you can ever imagine. So much so that I’ve been talking to other sites about writing for them but they want different material that isn’t T-blawg related. While I am a writer and I never run out of material, I keep saying no to them. Unless they can respect this site then I will not sign any deals. It’s T-blawg above everything else. I don’t need their money. I already make money. I do T-blawg for free because I believe in it. I believe it will make money one day soon. But until that day, T-blawg comes first. That’s what she said.

With that all said, today we received some great news about my mother’s health. She is cancer free and recovering fast. THAT has lifted a huge dark cloud from my life. From her life. I am writing again. Writing T-pisodes and the T-blawg Book IS coming. Hell, I even started another movie treatment. I am at the gym again and my arm is healing. Can’t really do weights but my cardio and conditioning training is on point and I’m having fun with it. I am still super busy at the office but I keep knocking each project out the park because it’s what I do best. I’m also enjoying the people in my life again. And I’ve slowed down and I’m learning not to rush some things and let things progress more naturally. But my mother’s health was always the number one priority and with that taken care of, it’s time. It’s time to smile again. And ol’ T loves to smile.

Finally…. I just wanted to thank you all for your support, prayers and kind words as of late. Please know that I keep T-blawg going not only for me but for all of you as well. I share my life so you are entertained and hopefully take something away with you each time I write.

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T-pisode 237: Shit Happens

You're damn right Forrest.

You’re damn right Forrest.

Every once in a while you have to take some lumps. Call it karma. Call it paying your dues. Call it a valley to the peak you’re just coming down from. Call it whatever the fuck you want. I call it life. When you don’t have much and then work your ass off to get everything you want you somehow manage to be both cocky and humble at the same time. You get comfortable in your ways and sometimes forget what it took to get where you are. Then the floor drops out from under you and you’re left standing around wondering “Why me?” or “Where did it all go wrong?” It’s not a question of whether you deserve it but what you do when it happens. When what happens? Shit. That’s right. Hey, guess what? Shit happens.

In life shit always happens. It doesn’t matter if you have deemed yourself a good person or a bad person. Bottom line is things aren’t always going to go your way. Life isn’t always going to be great. It isn’t always going to be hard either. Every once in a while you need some unexpected shit to happen to you. To remind you where you are in life. To remind you how you handle things. To remind you how far you’ve come. To remind you how much you’ve changed. To remind you just how strong or how fucking weak you really are. Life is going to test you. It is going to give you everything you thought you could ever want one second then take it all away from you the next. Now what? Now, you keep on living baby! That’s what. You pick yourself up, you brush yourself off and you get back up and say to yourself “Oh well. Shit happens.” Tomorrow you go back to the gym. Then you go into the office and crush it reminding yourself why you earn those six figures every fucking year. Then you come home and write a future New York Times best seller and a future Hollywood Summer blockbuster movie. Then you go out with your boys and drink to a life you once lived and toast to your so fucking bright future filled with unlimited potential. Then you spend time with your family who know you best and treat you even better than you deserve. Then you make peace. With yourself. Then you get refocused and your life gets back to normal. Back to awesome. You realize that it isn’t karma. You realize that the world isn’t out to get you anymore. You realize that you can love someone more than you love yourself for the first time in your adult life. You find out that you can love someone more than they love you. Maybe you loved too fast. You realize that your heart isn’t cold because of what she taught you when you were together. You realize that there’s still hope and anything is still possible in the future once you slow down. You realize that your mother is going to be ok no matter what because she needs to see that you’re going to be ok. Next thing you know it’s Summer in Boston and you’re walking around with that old dopey smile on your face that makes people think you’re always up to something and you catch yourself saying out loud “Hey T, shit happens.”

I can’t tell you what to do when shit happens to you. Just know that there are people out there that have their own shit happening to them every damn day and that you are not alone. You’re going to get shook. You’re going to get knocked down. You’re going to have to deal with it all. But you’re going to be ok because quite honestly, it’s just shit. Compare it to the other things that you’ve dealt with in your life. You’ve been through worse and you’re still here. Life is full of the unexpected. Both good and bad. And remember, sometimes bad shit happens but guess what? Good shit happens too. Just wait for it. Be patient or make it happen. Because life is good when you’re on top of the world.

 

Until next time. Always take it there.

T

 

 

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Actually, I’ll let Sinatra take this one

“That’s Life”

And with lyrics!

 

 

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I’ll let Jay-Z take this one tonight

“Trouble”

 

 

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I’ll let 50 take this one tonight

“Don’t Worry ‘Bout It”

 

 

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#wouldwife

Arianny Celeste

Arianny Celeste

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I’ll let old school John Legend take this one tonight

We’re all just figuring it out as we go along in life.

 

“Ordinary People”

 

 

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Uh ohhhh….guess who is almost all healed up???

I got shook the last few weeks. Now? I’m almost healed. In every way possible. 

Don’t call it a fucking comeback. T has been here for years. A lot of people can’t do what I do baby!!! I’m this way for a reason.

 

“Mama Said Knock You Out”

 

 

 

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T-pisode 236: The Italy Effect

I took the greatest pic of the Trevi Fountain ever! then I came home and saw that some random Italian broad photobombed my shit!

I take the greatest pic of the Trevi Fountain ever! Then I come home to Boston and see that some random Italian broad photobombed my shit!!!

I’m a victim of wanderlust. There is no doubt about that. My original wanderlust had me traveling all around the country. Between personal travel and work I managed to see almost every major metropolitan city. Only Chicago, Dallas, San Diego and Seattle are left on my USA list. Then back in 2011 I went to London, England. That’s when my wanderlust went international. With a primary focus in Europe. After London I went to Paris then Rome then Florence then Venice. Next up will be Greece then Spain. I took something away from each of these beautiful European countries and cities. But Italy itself had the greatest impact. It’s something I like to call The Italy Effect.

Italy’s impact on me most definitely has to do with me being Italian and the fact that I went on the trip with my mother. While I was out there I had a lot going on inside of my head. Seeing how the Italians lived, worked, ate, loved and went about their everyday lives pulled at things deep down inside of me that I didn’t know I had. That I didn’t think I wanted to release. Sure I’ve always been proud of my Italian heritage. Always been an eater. I have my ways with romance. I like to think I’m cultured. I’m huge on family. Always appreciated art, architecture and history. But Italy amplified all of that and I brought it home with me. It made me want to stop and smell the roses. Or the tomatoes. I’m not sure. I found myself wanting to be a better man, yes. But I was already doing that. This made me want to be a different AND a better kind of man. Multiplied by a thousand. I wanted to let my friends and family know that I appreciated and loved them for who they were and what they meant to me. The timing was great because I came home to the holidays. We finally had an old-fashioned Italian “Fish” Christmas Eve which hadn’t existed in my family in years. I found myself paying more attention to all the buildings, people and history of my beautiful city of Boston in ways I never did before. I went nuts on Instagram with the pics! I took a step back and wanted to really change how I was writing with the T-blawg book. Instead of how I write on the site I wanted to tell these same stories but in a different way. With more heart. With more passion. With more everything. Then I started to date a special woman and for the first time in my life I really wanted to feel and love more than ever before. Every time we were together. Every time we ate. Every time we laughed. Every time we talked. This romance was different. Everything was the same in my life but I made it different. I put more into everything and everyone. My time, my heart, my passion went into it all. Went into everything. And I just went with it. I went with The Italy Effect.

I don’t know how long The Italy Effect will last or if it made a definitive change in me. I’m not sure if I’m a better man because of it. I just know that I’m different and really appreciate how that trip changed me. The jury is still out if the people in my life recognize or even like the different T I am now. But I know I’ve changed. And I like it. I mean this is how we grow as people right? To live, love, laugh, learn, experience, reflect, appreciate, discover, travel…and hope to come away with something. Anything. I brought Italy home with me. I hope it stays. I hope my friends & family stay. I hope the way I feel in relationships stays. I hope THIS T stays. The Italy Effect. Travel and find your own Italy Effect. And once again, thank me later.

 

 

Until next time. Always take it there.

T

 

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I’ll let Ma$e take this one

I’m back.

 

“Welcome Back”

 

 

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T-pisode 235: June 9th

-Gatsby

-Gatsby

This is probably the most current, raw and emotional T-pisode I have ever written. I am at a very low point and I know you are all not used to seeing a side of me like this. There have been clues on the site itself and on Twitter and Facebook lately. I know I have been out of character and I’m so sorry. I haven’t been this low in over 2 years. I’m not looking for sympathy. That’s not who I am. I’m a positive guy and I’m known for always telling my stories as honest and as entertaining as possible. This T-pisode will be honest but I’m not sure how entertaining. But you should know that I have had my ass handed to me in every way, shape and form the last two weeks. So much so that I actually contemplated shutting down T-blawg and all my social media for the immediate future. I really did. The streak was going to end here today at 235. I was going to walk away for a bit. But I couldn’t do it. I owe all of you more than that. And here it is.

Just over two years ago I shared a story about having the worst Winter ever. Mostly because of my mother dealing with lung cancer surgery. She recovered and the rest of my life was on a high for the two years after that. Well last week she had to go back in for another cancer surgery on her other lung. She made it through the surgery and now we are awaiting next steps. You read this site. You all have an idea of what my mother means to me and what she’s done for me. Also, about 3 weeks ago I suffered an arm injury while training for Warrior Dash. It was originally diagnosed as an inflamed tricep. I had to stop training and I couldn’t compete in the Warrior Dash with the team I put together. I felt that I let them down. I tried to do a push up today. I fell over. I have no strength in my left arm and my index finger is still completely numb. I can’t sleep. Less than usual that is. I can barely write because of the physical pain and the emotional shit I’m going through. So I need to see the doctors again to find out what is going on and get this fixed. I am also absolutely slammed over my head at my day job. And I really can’t take the time off to work on my personal issues outside of the office. I am conflicted and exhausted. Last but not least… You have all obviously figured out that I was in a relationship recently. Yeah, me. This wasn’t just a relationship either. The way we were going….it was serious. It was love. I’m not going to share the personal details of our time together, this site is about me and I don’t have the right to write about her life. Even though she gave me the ok to share details here and on social media, I never should’ve. It did more harm than good. We just ended recently during all of this. It wasn’t my choice at first. And the way it ended absolutely sucked and destroyed me. This happened while all of this other shit was going on and all I wanted to do was be with her during this. But I couldn’t. I just wanted to see her. But I couldn’t. I couldn’t talk to her. Make her laugh like only I could. I couldn’t hold her in my arms until she fell asleep and wake her up once all of this blew over. I’ve went through a lot on my own in life but I didn’t want to be alone this time. I wanted her. But she wasn’t there. I’m hurt, angry, scared and worried. All feelings I never had to deal with. At least not at the same time. But this is all too much right now. I unleashed a little on social media. I wanted to vent. Women in my personal life have reached out to me while we were together and now while we were breaking up. But I don’t want them. I wanted her. T-blawg groupies smelled blood and reached out. But I don’t want them. I wanted her. I wanted to fall back into my old habits and go on a tear of women and debauchery but I won’t. I’m a better man now. I’m better than that. I wanted to write a scathing T-pisode directed at her to all 70,000 of you and bury her with words but I can’t. Because all the good we had when we were together means more to me than the bad we’re going through right now. And I refuse to hate someone I loved so damn much. And I’ll miss her with everything I have in me. I really will. I lost a close friend and the woman I loved.

My mother will heal. My arm will heal. My mind will heal. And my heart will heal. I always bounce back. It’s what I do better than anyone I fucking know, except my mother. Because she is the strongest person I know and I can’t quit at this fucking crazy thing we call life because of what she put inside of me. But even the strong have to hurt once in a while I guess. And I am hurting in a way that I never felt before. I’m getting it every way possible. But thank God for all my friends and family who have reached out to me. I fucking love you all and thank you so much from the bottom of my crazy heart. Which actually exists for all of you who thought I never had one. Because now I know I have a heart because of how much pain is in it right now. You all mean the world to me. Especially those going through their own personal and health battles. I’ll always be there for you too. Always. Even you people who come here every Monday and everyday who don’t know the guy under the hat. I see your messages, comments and tweets. Thank you for caring. You all are the fucking best. So with that, I’m done. Time to heal. Time to bounce back. Time to bounce forward actually.

 

 

Until next time. Always take it there.

T

 

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I’m gonna let Kanye take this one and then I’m fucking done with this

“Blood On The Leaves”

 

 

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I’ll let Keith Sweat take this one tonight

“Nobody”

 

 

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T-pisode 234: T Redefines Sunday Funday

T has been putting the F-U into Sunday Funday for years!!! Wait, what?

T has been putting the F-U into Sunday Funday for years!!! Wait, what?

Ahhh, good ol’ Sunday Funday. I’ve wanted to tackle this here on T-blawg for a very long time. And that time is now. Thirsty Thursday has been a part of my life since I entered corporate America. It was the unofficial first/third day of the weekend where you would start boozin’ and you would just tough out Friday with a hangover until you went out immediately after work and busted through the proverbial wall to start your official weekend. Saturday was date night. If you had no date it was the club with the boys. So what was Sunday? Sunday didn’t have a name but it had its on purpose.

Sunday went one of two ways for single men. You either nursed your Thirsty Thursday/Friday Boozin’/Saturday Date Night or Club Night accumulated hangover on the couch watching movies. Maybe doing some laundry in between naps and bathroom puke runs. Possibly sweating out the hangover at the gym. Definitely eating a greasy hangover breakfast cure. Sometimes cuddling in bed with a lucky lady. Or sometimes even keeping the party going by holding on to the minutes of the fading weekend before Monday came crashing down on you. OR…there was FOOTBALL!!! That’s right. Men owned Sunday for a very long time. Either at home or at the bar or the game itself, Sunday was OUR day before it ever had a title. It was men and football. Then at some point over the last 6-7 years according to my calculations, some woman on social media decided to call Sunday…Sunday Funday. That name is definitely a very stupid name. And with that stupidness came the mimosas and brunches and day drinking at the so-called “trendy” Sunday Funday spots. Selfies at these hotspots started to pop up all over social media. Tons of #sundayfunday hashtagged pics of groups of women with their “skinny” arms strategically bent on their hips to slim their non-existent arm fat were hitting my timelines every damn Sunday! Sunday was taken from us men and it was forced to wear a sundress, big sunglasses and force-fed frozen margaritas while looking like some dopey housewife trying to hold onto her fading youth on some awful Bravo reality show. What the hell happened?! Enough!!!

I’m Italian. My people originated Sunday Funday. We called it just Sunday though and we would eat, swear and then eat & swear some more. Then I grew up and moved into the city and went on Sunday recovery and debauchery tears of straight awesomeness. Now? I enjoy my Sundays movie watching, errand running and writing. Sure that is tame but I’m a grown ass man now. But come September through February me and the rest of my fellow men OWN Sundays with football. There is no way around it. So…here’s how it will go down. I’ll allow the Sunday Funday name. The dopey pics. The hashtags. The day drinking. But only during the Spring & Summer. All you ladies and non-football loving dudes (if there is such a thing) can have Sunday for that half of the year. But come Labor Day, batten down the hatches, board up your windows, take shelter in yo’ basements! Because the men are back. And Sunday is ours until the first Sunday in February. That’s just how it is. Deal with it. And I just made that law and so it shall be! I haven’t made a law in a while.

 

 

Until next time. Always take it there.

T

 

 

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