It’s been a while. So here are 5 #wouldwife women. That’s right…5.
It’s been a while. So here are 5 #wouldwife women. That’s right…5.
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.
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….
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.
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.
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.
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.
My staycation is over and it’s back to work tomorrow. And this is how it’s about to go down!
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.
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.
Doing a lot of thinking, refocusing, planning and changing lately…
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.
What a week. It was a great week. And now I’m just feeling this tonight with all these thoughts running through my head…
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.
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.
“Who thought we’d make it in life? We did, that’s who.”
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.
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.
And with lyrics!
“Don’t Worry ‘Bout It”
We’re all just figuring it out as we go along in life.
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”
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.
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.
“Blood On The Leaves”
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.
This past New Year’s Eve motivated me to write a little history recap of my experiences on this holiday. Why should you care? Because there is a certain evolution that goes on with New Year’s Eve over the course of one’s life and if you don’t accept this evolution then your New Year’s Eve is going to suck. I see friends and family on Facebook and how they are either let down by the holiday or asleep before the ball drops. I see people on Twitter complaining about the parties and clubs that they are still at as they complain. And I can speak about it all when it comes to the holiday, because I did it all and I did it right. Let me explain.
As a little kid your parents are already out of the New Year’s Eve celebrating game so they take you to a relative’s house where you play with your cousins, get to stay up really late and if you’re an Eastie kid, you get to run into the streets banging pots & pans at midnight while illegal fireworks go off. That’s a kid’s version of NYE. With family. As a young teenager you do everything you can to break away from your parents and try to be cooler. Luckily my sister and bro-in-law used to let me stay over, play card games and drink Jell-O shots with them and their friends. That’s the early teenager version of NYE. With older cooler people. The late teenage/early college years are quite simply house parties on NYE. I spent the majority of those years at some house parties but most of them were at my good Eastie buddy’s parentless house where we would all drink ourselves to death. No seriously. I almost died a few times at those NYE parties. That’s the late teenage/early college years version of NYE. Hard partying with good friends. When you hit 21, that’s when it all changes on NYE. Now you enter the world of “The Club” whether by choice or not. NYE at “The Club” requires way too expensive tickets in advance, never getting the “complimentary” champagne glass to toast at midnight that you prepaid for and never ever ever meeting a good person to kiss at midnight. I even spent the famous “Y2K/End Of The World NYE” at the club. Guess what? We still here yo! Bottom line, “The Club” NYE version just like the whole Y2K thing is greatly overrated and one big scam. Your late twenties is when you decide to get out of the club scene and start thinking “oh you fancy, huh” and throw on the suit/tux or dress if you’re a lady and go to some hotel’s NYE black tie affair gala. Then you quickly realize this is stupid as shit and immediately go back to “The Club” and realize that is stupid as shit too and now you don’t want to do anything on New Year’s Eve ever again!!! Right? Wrong. Don’t stay home. Don’t be miserable. It’s time to go full circle and back to family. That’s right. All of the people who you started this NYE thing with are now grown and having those family parties that you loved as a kid except now you’re all adults. And some of you have kids starting their own NYE evolution. Trust me. I now spend my NYE at my cousin’s house with my family drinking, eating, laughing, reminiscing about past New Year’s Eves and appreciating what I have in my life now. It’s a beautiful thing people.
Every single one of us has our “holiday routines” for each holiday. But for the most part they stay the same. Christmas. Easter. Thanksgiving. Whatever. But New Year’s Eve is the only holiday that has its own course. It changes every few years and you either adapt for happiness or stay still and be miserable. There really isn’t a medium. I’m at the point now at this past NYE I had just started to date HER again and even though I was having another amazing time with my family I couldn’t stop thinking about getting to kiss HER at midnight at next year’s New Year’s Eve. I’m even looking forward to what future holidays now have in store for me and maybe, just maybe one last evolution for my New Year’s Eve.
Until next time. Always take it there.
The second chance is a fickle creature my friends. Especially when you’re someone like me who is a firm believer in one & done; go big or go home; all or nothing; if it was going to happen it would’ve; fool me once, shame on me… All of those sayings pretty much mean to me “you have one shot” at something. One chance to get it right. If you don’t get it “right” the first time then you move on and never look back. I applied that outlook to almost every aspect of my life. But I applied it the most to dating. Yep. Ol’ T over here would try to get it right with a woman one time and one time only and if it didn’t happen then I would just move on. Until I met HER.
I don’t have many female friends. The majority of my female friends are still for the most part just my “Bullpen” ladies. Lady friends from college, cousins and old co-workers. The reason for that is one, the majority of my dating experiences either did not end well or I had no reason to continue a friendship with any of them. And two, I’m a busy man who keeps a small circle so I never really try to let new people into my life in general let alone any of the female persuasion. So when I dated HER three years ago I never expected to be where we are today. We dated briefly then and quite honestly I was still a single guy who wanted to continue to be single and she deserved and wanted more than that. And neither of us were really “relationship” people to begin with. But we stopped dating on kind of good terms and kind of remained friends. We stayed in touch but rarely saw each other. For almost 3 years we stayed in touch and still flirted, still made each other smile and still obviously cared about each other. Just not a lot, but definitely not a little. If that makes sense. Over the course of those 3 years I changed and grew in so many ways. She did too in her own way. A person can really live a lot and learn about oneself over the course of 3 years. Whether you are changing by choice or if life somehow finds ways to change you, which it tends to do sometimes. Change can be for the better and it can bring you exactly where you need to be. Where you should be. And who you should be with. That’s what happened for me.
We ended up at the same Boston hotspot this past Summer. Almost kind of like how we first met. When I saw HER again I couldn’t believe how I had forgotten how beautiful she was in person. THAT smile. She’s one of those women who is beautiful both inside and out without even realizing it or acting like she knows it. That trait about HER is so hard to find in a woman these days. We live in an era of selfies and shallow social media now people. Wanting constant attention from people we know and more from people we don’t know. There was another girl that I was supposed to meet up with at that bar that night but once I was with HER the other girl didn’t even matter. That other girl didn’t even stand a chance. I nicely blew that girl off and spent the night talking to HER. And for the next 6 months I did everything possible to charm, flirt and woo my way back into HER life until she finally agreed to go out on a date with me. That’s when I got my second chance with HER. And this time it’s going to be different. It already is. And if you ever get THAT second chance, make it count. Trust T on this.
Until next time. Always take it there.
Guys love movies. We love going to the movies. We love watching them at home. We love thinking our lives are one big movie. And most of all we love quoting movies. We can find a movie that applies to any life situation. ANY! It’s how we roll. And ol’ T over here is more “movie” than the average guy. You all know my love for movies by now and how I write them and try to get them made. I can break down a movie better than anyone. I can turn on a switch and watch a movie as a fan or as a movie maker. It’s both a gift and a curse. But I love movies. So I figured it was about time to turn my love for movies that I share with most of my fellow bros into a Bro Code chapter. So without further ado, I present the Bro Movie Code. Get your popcorn ready. Pun intended.
Going To the Movies
The one true way to watch a movie is at the movies bro. You can’t beat the experience. The big screen. The great sound. The snacks. And enjoying 2 hours with 200 other strangers while taking a break from your everyday life. Go to the movies bro. With a chick. With pals. By yourself. It’s an escape from realism and we all need a short break from life now and then. I don’t trust bros who don’t like going to the movies.
Staying At Home Movie Watchin’
Sure this isn’t the same experience as going to the movies but being in your place watching a flick is the most comfortable movie watching possible. You know your couch is for sports watching, TV watching and movie watching. That’s why you bought it bro. And nothing beats watching a flick at home with a beautiful lady. Nothing.
Which Rocky Number? Who Did He Fight In That One, Bro???
Let’s not bullshit, bro. We men only use Roman numerals that we learned in elementary school to keep track of all the Rocky movies! “Was it Rocky I or Rocky II?!” “He didn’t win the belt in Rocky I, I’m telling you.” “He fought the Russian in Rocky IV dude!!!” “Rocky V is on cable right now. It’s the sucky one with his pussy son, but I’m watching it bro.”
If you haven’t seen ALL of the following: Godfather 1 & 2; Casino; A Bronx Tale; Goodfellas; The Departed; and Donnie Brasco then turn in your man card, bro. And…
Godfather 3 Don’t Count!
NO it doesn’t!!! It is a fucking disgrace to Godfather 1 & 2! I can’t even talk about it. You shouldn’t either.
The Regular TV vs DVD/Cable vs At the Theater Debate
There is nothing worse than watching your favorite movie on regular TV. Nothing! At the movies is the best. On DVD/cable is like a mini movie at home. Then there is regular cable where they shorten the movie, water down the violence, take out the sex and swears like “motherfucker” are now “mother lover.” Try watching Scarface on regular TV bro. It sucks. Be a real man and DO NOT watch your favorite flick on regular TV. Fight the power!
Skip That Seat, Bro
Two bros CANNOT sit next to each other at the movies. If the theater is packed and there are only two seats left next to each other then you have to go see another movie bro. Sorry.
Dinner and a Movie Date
This is the All-American date. But save this shit for later in the dating stage dude. Get to know her before you spend two hours alone in the dark without being able to say a word. This is rookie dating shit. But at home? Pizza and a flick? That leads to straight sex. Also do not bust this out early in the dating stage or that potential girlfriend WILL become a booty call bro.
Fight this as long as possible. Try to see any other movie with her. Fight, fight and fight until you can no longer fight! Then just tuck your skirt in and take her to see the damn chick flick dude. Chicks love chick flicks. Chick is in the damn name for a reason.
Group Movie Watchin’
Choose wisely who you go to the movies with. Whether with just bros or double & triple dates. There’s always a talker. There’s always a snack moocher. There’s always an elbow bumper. There’s always a bathroom goer. Know your group first!
Your TV Sucks, Dude
If your bro has a small ass, old ass or a shitty ass TV, you CAN and WILL let him know how much it truly sucks by continuously busting his balls about it until said bro buys a worthy TV. No fucks given. End of that story.
The Battle of THE Holy Trilogies
There are only two movie trilogies that are recognized, respected, loved and have their greatness argued about by all bros around the world. Star Wars vs Lord of the Rings. It doesn’t matter which side you fight for, just be ready for the fucking fight of your life bro.
Pacino And De Niro
The two greatest actors of all time. Doesn’t matter if their current movies suck ass. Their combined early work made them movie legends. That was enough. Respect these two great Italian-American actors or end up sleeping with the fishes.
Did You Even See The Original, Bro?!
If you like any reboot, sequel or remake better than the original you WILL have your fucking man card revoked on the spot.
If you haven’t seen ALL of the following: Scarface; New Jack City; Boyz In The Hood; Menace II Society; Juice; and Carlito’s Way then you once again have to turn in your man card, bro.
Bros Be Quotin’
You must quote a movie once a day and apply it to a real life situation at the office, at home, at the gym, at the bar, on a date or just plain talking to yourself. It’s what we do. Bros quote movies ALL THE TIME.
Bros CAN Judge Other Bros on Their DVD Collection
When you go over to another bro’s house for the first time you do the following: Size up his entertainment center; Ask how many cable channels he has; What kind of computer he uses; Overall compare his quality of living to your quality of living; Let him know what shit is cool and how you either already have that shit or plan to get that shit immediately; and finally, completely judge his ass based on his DVD collection. The amount of awesome movies, classic movies and box sets in his DVD collection WILL absolutely decide how cool of a bro he really is and if you should or should not continue your broship.
Vince Vaughn Is The Ultimate Movie Bro, Bro
There is one man and one man only who deserves the “Ultimate Movie Bro” title and that man is Vince Vaughn. No man on the planet has given us bros so much to laugh at and so many movie lines to quote more than this great man. Swingers, Made, Old School, Dodgeball, Wedding Crashers are all deeply ingrained into every bros vernacular and he single-handedly changed the way every bro speaks. Thank you Vince Vaughn. You still got these big fucking claws and fangs, man.
So there you have it! The Bro Movie Code has been written and so it shall be respected. Everything every dude needs to know about movies and why they mean so much to all us stupid guys. Someone had to put this into words to make sure it lives on for all mankind for future manly generations. There is nothing as unimportant but triggers the most emotion and passion out of men next to sports, women or money than movies. Nothing. And now you know why. Again, thank me later.
Until next time. Always take it there.
Rough week so I needed this to remind me….I’m a hustler baby, ask about me.
“I’m A Hustla”
I went on my first “cold” blind date ever two years ago. Then I wrote this about it. Not too long ago, I went on another blind date. This time I tried to make some adjustments. This time I wasn’t going in cold. I wanted information. I wanted a lot of information. Bottom line? I done come up a lot in the world since my last blind date. I’m as busy as ever and I won’t sugarcoat it, I am now one hell of a catch. I know what I bring to the table so it was only fair that I knew what she was bringing to the table. There would be no burrito farts, crazy dead doll tattoos or pulling teeth conversations this time. Oh no. Who was this woman and why should I date her? That’s what I needed to know. The source of this blind date came from my closest people. Two people who know me best. They brought us together through text. So we started texting and talking. And I’m not going to lie; this woman seemed pretty good on paper.
She was a school teacher. Had a great upbringing. Intelligent. Into fitness. Great sense of humor. Family oriented. Same age as me. And also like me, she was on that cusp of wanting to settle down if the right person could be found. Sounds great right? Here’s what else that was going on in my life at that time. I’m kind of jumping around in the T-blawg timeline here people. During this time it was the holidays. I was extra busy. I had just come back from Italy. I was on this romantic hunger kick. It was Patriots season and my season tickets kept me extra, extra busy. Especially on Sundays. And then there was HER. I was just starting to reconnect with the woman who would later prompt this change in my opinion about Valentine’s Day. The odds were stacked against this blind date. But I went on the date. And she was….nice. Plain. No sparks. No chemistry. The greatest team put together on paper but couldn’t play well on the field. THAT was what happened. I couldn’t explain to people why I didn’t want to go out with her again. Why I knew it wouldn’t work out. What I was feeling after Italy. What I was feeling about the other woman starting to come back into my life. I had changed. I didn’t want to date this girl from the blind date. It wasn’t her, it was me. Yep, THAT. My life had changed. I had changed. I had grown up. I wanted something different. I didn’t want her. I knew what I wanted. And just like that, a lifetime of dating ended for me.
Now you may be thinking that was an extreme statement considering everything you know about my dating experiences. The good, the bad, the crazy and the ugly. There is no way T could be done with dating, right? Almost 5 years of this site you can argue most of what I’ve written about was dating. Yes, I wasn’t sure I was done with dating at that exact moment sitting across from this girl in a popular Boston restaurant. Which I had done a million times before. I was only sure that I was done soon after that when SHE agreed to go on a date with me again almost 3 years later after we last dated. That’s when I finally stopped looking at it all as dating and that’s when things would change and I just became happy. More happy than I usually was. I had to go on that blind date. That last date. To get back to HER. That’s what a lifetime of dating taught me. THAT blind date looks like…hopefully….was the last “date” date for me. The last meaningless date. The last of my dating so many women. The last search date. And I couldn’t be happier people.
Until next time. Always take it there.
About three years ago I put out a T-pisode called “Signature Drink.” At the time I just wanted to write about the history of my favorite alcoholic drinks while trying to encourage other guys out there to find one of their own if they didn’t already have one. It was a timeline of my favorite signature drinks while mandating that you are only allowed to change your signature drink five times in your life until you reach the age of 40. Well I think you all know by now I only live by my own rules so it’s entirely up to you if you went ahead and followed that rule. You’re crazy if you did. But thank you if you did. So now I’m back at it again with my “Signature Scent.” Instead of booze, I’m talking cologne. Because every man should have a distinguished scent that sets him apart from the next guy. And fellas, please, only one to two spritzes of cologne at a time. Trust T on this. And remember, cologne doesn’t hide stink. So stay clean and have immaculate hygiene. Now, here is a history of my signature scent.
First Signature Scent: Drakkar circa 1990
Good old Drakkar!!! Now this was THE scent for all middle school boys, teenagers and even grown ass men in the 90s. I swear to Baby Jesus. I can tell you this, none of us knew shit about good cologne. This was a time of Z Cavaricci pants, Cross Colour overalls with one strap up, rat tails in the back of dudes’ heads, 8-ball jackets and Starter hats son! We didn’t know shit about shit. Let alone smelling nice. But every guy sprayed on a lot of friggin’ Drakkar. And I did too all the way through middle school and high school. Like a damn idiot. But the girls were stupid back then too and thought Drakkar was cool. So hey.
Second Signature Scent: Acqua Di Gio circa 1996
This was the beginning of college. This was a time when I was exposed to people who were not from East Boston. It was a culture shock. It was change. So I thought it was time to make some changes as well. I always dressed ok for a poor kid but college was when I started to really embrace fashion, style and dressing well. I wanted nicer things. I started with my scent. I could not be fucking with Drakkar in college!!! These weren’t stupid little girls. These were college women son! Now looking back, they were still stupid little girls but I didn’t know any better then. Armani & Versace were made big by hip hop. Hip hop taught me about nice things. About being ghetto rich. Tupac & Biggie rocked Armani & Versace until they were killed. Hell, Versace was even killed during this time. I wanted something from Armani. All I could afford at the time was the cologne. Boom…Acqua Di Gio became my signature scent for the next 10 years. That smell was and still is amazing. It assisted ol’ T at many college parties, clubs, bars and on dates. Thank you Giorgio Armani.
Third Signature Scent: Polo Double Black circa 2006-2012
I rocked Polo shirts. I loved Polo shirts. I did not know shit about the sport of polo but that little jockey swinging a golf club on a horse looked cool as shit on a shirt. Ralph Lauren marketed to the rich but the poor bought his stuff. In 2006, I was neither. I was up & coming and in the middle. I had to wear suits to work and I had to smell great. While regular Polo cologne didn’t do much for me, Polo Double Black was the greatest scent ever to me. It was the first cologne I picked up without putting too much thought into it because I was out of Acqua Di Gio and the store was too. So I grabbed a bottle of Double Black and I got more compliments from women, friends and coworkers on my cologne than ever before. Mostly the compliments from women mattered the most at the time. That was it. Polo Double Black became my third signature scent. It worked out well for me. Very well.
Fourth Signature Scent: Burberry Brit circa 2008/Gucci Guilty circa 2011
I had no desire to buy Burberry cologne in my life. Long story short…I moved into the city. I had a hottie, party animal chick living next door. She couldn’t get enough of me. Seriously. She was annoying. She worked for Burberry around the corner and got me the cologne. I thought it was meh. But she liked it. A lot of her crazy hottie girlfriends liked it too. A lot of hot crazy girls in general liked it. I didn’t. I just went with it. I still had my trusty Polo Double Black but I guess the Brit was my fourth signature scent because of all the perks that came with it? I even dabbled a little into Gucci Guilty at this time. But I always went back to my Double Black. Hey, if it ain’t broken then don’t try to fix it. Speaking of which…
Fifth Signature Scent: Tom Ford Noir circa 2014
I knew about Tom Ford. Jay-Z put him on the radar for most men however with his last album. During this time I listened to that album all the way to Italy. Tom Ford had a giant billboard in Rome next to the Trevi Fountain. My hotel was next to both. I guess you can say the power of advertising finally got to me because when I got home I bought a bottle of Tom Ford Noir. It’s kind of a bandwagon cologne that a lot of people jumped on. I guess I did too? I’m not sure if it’s my last because yes I still have my boy Polo Double Black locked & loaded! But you do have to try the trends that are out there in the world if you are a successful and knowledgeable grown man. So I am with this cologne. More to come I guess on how that works out for me. But I’m staying loyal to ol’ PDB!
So there it is. My “Signature Scent” T-pisode. An indirect follow up sequel to my “Signature Drink” T-pisode? Or maybe a new “Signature” series on T-blawg? Who knows. The site is evolving along with me. Time to try new things. Time for changes. But I like the way things are going baby. Now go out and get yourself a new cologne regardless of how much you like the bottle or bottles resting on your dresser right now. You may find something better or you may end up sticking with what already works for you. Either way, thank me later.
Until next time. Always take it there.
“From Jerk To Gentleman”
One man's original, honest, crazy and often funny take on life. A new tale every Monday.