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My “Bro Food Code” Post

October 10, 2011 By 8 Comments

Respect the fucking nachos, bro

The Bro Code saga continues! I’ve been applying my T Bro Code rules to every aspect in a guy’s life. I’m proud of what I’ve been doing with the Bro Code here on t-blawg so far. Hell, many so-called “Men’s” sites have been ripping off my Bro Code posts. And other posts too. Hacks. But I’ll continue the good fight! So here we are with the latest chapter. This one is one of the most important Bro Codes. It is something all Bros love. Almost as much as women. Almost as much as sex. Almost as much as sports. Almost as much as money. Almost as….it’s about food! Ok?! It’s the Bro Food Code! You read the title! Guys love food. It’s what makes us men. Well our penises do too. But our love for food really does too. But there are rules to food. Yep. There is. Are you ready for them?  Here we go!
Food at sports games
Simple. Every other booze run must include a food run.

Late night after clubs with chicks
The bro who pulled the hot chick is obligated to pay for the late night meal. No hot chicks pulled? Just the guys? Then you all eat like the world is ending. Split the bill. Go home to bed. It was a busted night.

Wings Rule 1
The hotter the broer!

Two Bros, One Dinner
Totally ok. Boys can dine together for steaks but never dessert! NEVER DESSERT!!!

The two rule is always applicable
Two of everything: 2 hot dogs each; 2 burgers each; 2 pizzas each; 2 chicks each. ZING! And you have to finish it all!

Pizza law
Last slice is given to the bro who paid. If the bill is going to be split, first bro to grab it gets it!

The nacho system
Fuck that old “Dude. It’s one chip!” shit when you grab a bunch stuck together! A real man starts from the outside of the nacho plate and works his way into the center! Remember, only a douche grabs the mother chip in the middle first!

Wings Rule 2
Eat them all but never throw bones back into the fresh wing pile dude. Use the accompanying bone bowl you dick.

The food question
If asked by anyone, ever, “You hungry?” Your response must always be “I can eat.” Even if you just ate. Real men can eat for days dude.

The chick factor
If your girl can’t finish her food, you finish for her. If you can’t? You’re not a man. Return your penis to Jesus.

Home court advantage
He’s who house it is, is the only man allowed to touch the grill. Respect.

Food table party guy
Don’t be him! Never be that guy standing near the food table all night at the party. Go in once. Hard and fast. And you’re done. That’s what she said.

Wings Rule 3
10 cent wings & 2 dollar drafts??? The poorest bro and the richest bro at the bar can all enjoy!

Formal events
After all tables are called by number you can go up as many times as you want. Get your money’s worth! Get in my belly!!!

Holiday house pit stops
You are obligated to eat at every person’s house you go to. Except the dirty cousin’s house. We all hate eating at the dirty cousin’s house.

Awkward Bro Scorpion Bowl
Two bros shouldn’t share a scorpion bowl. But sometimes it happens. I know. Get two straws and as long as both bros don’t sip at the same time, it’s ok. Just don’t tweet about it.

Don’t count the bill guy!
You know when you ordered how much your shit will cost. All bros look at the price. You know how much your date’s shit cost too. And how many drinks you had. And how much dessert was. When the bill comes at the end of a fun group date night dinner, add it all up in your head and throw in 25% extra. Done. Don’t be that guy.

Wings Rule 4
If you’re the dude who brings the chick then you must order enough for her as well and pay for her portion of wings. Every time. No exceptions!

The Bro who is always short on the bill
You can and will call his ass out on the spot! Fuck him! He is no bro at all.

The Date 6 Rule
If you’ve been dating a chick and you reach the 6th date and if she doesn’t even attempt to reach for the bill, dump her. Dump her fast. She is a selfish, heartless succubus and this is the first sign of a life of misery with her. If she reaches for the bill, you still pay. But be happy. Because you got a keeper man!

Food shopping
It’s simple guy. Always have the bro essentials: milk, eggs, bread, peanut butter, at least 2 cereals, steak, chicken, cold cuts and of course toilet paper. Everything else is whatever.

And that is the “Bro Food Code” in a nutshell. Now you know. I don’t want to see any bros fucking up food from this point on! Ok?! Like all of T’s Bro Code chapters, print this. Keep it with you. At all times! Thank me later.
How are you liking my Bro Code posts? Let me know! I like writing them. Comment. Tweet me. Facebook me. Buzzfeed me. And definitely let me know if you’re seeing any of my posts anywhere else on the interwebs people!!!

Until next time. Always take it there.


T

Filed Under: Alcohol, Bro Code, Comedy, Different, Edgy, Entertainment, Facebook, Food, Funny, Money, Opinionated, Sports, t-blawg, Twitter, Uncategorized, Women Tagged With: , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,
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My “Office Sex. Don’t Do It!” Post

October 3, 2011 By Leave a Comment

This is how it starts. Like a damn porno. I'm telling you!

Ah office sex. Some say it’s taboo. Some say it’s wrong. Some say it’s dangerous. Some say it’s stupid. And you know what? They’re right. Because I know. Because I’ve done it all when it comes to office sex. It’s cool to become friends with people you work with. Hell after college, work and friends of friends are the only ways you can mostly make new friends. But banging them?! NO! How am I an expert? Am I just talking shit? How do I know? Well I’ll tell you some stories that gave me this profound knowledge. I did all the wrong things that led to these conclusions! I was stupid. I was young. I liked danger. But mostly, I was horny. Learn from T here people. Please. I’ll save you the trouble. I’ll save you the embarrassment. I’ll save you the frustration. I’ll save you from losing your job. I’ll save you from heartbreak. Yes, heartbreak. Because all those things happened to me. I’ll break it down for you. Learn from my office sex experiences people. Office sex? Don’t do it. These experiences cover the whole messy office sex spectrum.

My first office sex experience happened when I was in my early 20s. It was with an older chick in another department. She was cool. She was cute. She had an amazing apple ass. And she was married. We flirted a lot. One night we hooked up after the office holiday party. After that she started to talk about leaving her husband and wanting a relationship with me. I thought that was crazy as fuck and told her so. It didn’t go over too well. But she got the point. I did too. No issues really after that between us because I avoided the shit out of her and it put me on the straight and narrow at work for the next few years. Then I hit the wall. Big time. I left that company and ended up working with these 2 chicks. They were friends. Good friends. We all became friends. One was in a serious relationship but looking to get out. I became her “emotional work boyfriend”. Yeah I know. Stupid. That work boyfriend title is a fucking joke. No man deserves that. I actually fell for this chick. Then she broke my heart and the asshole in me came out so I started to hook up with the other chick out of spite. Just straight sex shit. She ended up having a boyfriend while this was going on too. She was also a weed/ecstasy/cokehead. I didn’t touch the shit but she did. Too much. Between the 2 of them, tons of lies and the shadiness that took over both my professional and personal lives, I was a mess. Both chicks then became bat shit crazy. It spilled into the office. I almost killed one of the managers. And in the end, I left the company and both chicks kept their jobs but still ended up hating me. See? Office sex usually starts off fun, but there will always be casualties. Always.

Two years later I ended up working with a chick at another place. So not my type. But she threw herself at me every single day. Every single day! So I finally gave in. I banged her in my office “Basic Instinct” style. She was a total slampig. Then I started to hook up with a chick that worked for her. She was a young Brazilian hottie yoga enthusiast. So hot. I actually liked her. Our hooking up led to dating. Which was rare for me. We kept it out of the office. This went on for a couple of months. Her boss the dirty slampig was suspicious. But we didn’t care. Then it turned out my hottie was in the country illegally. The Feds came and deported her ass. WTF?! Random right? Only me. I think the slampig boss blew the whistle. I can’t prove it but the psycho most likely did. After my hottie got shipped back to Brazil, I quit that place and went to another company. At this new place was a hottie intern. I stayed on the straight and narrow for about the first 2 months. Then her internship ended and we banged like jackrabbits as soon as she punched out at 5:00PM on her last day. She was young. In college. And kept those odd college chick hours that they keep. I was a grown ass man with things to do. So, she got on my nerves after 2 weeks. This was it for me. I was done. She was my last office sex hookup. I retired from office sex. I went out with a bang. Literally. They raised my jersey to the rafters. My office sex wild oats were sewn. That was over 3 years ago. Enough of this shit.

See what I’m saying? This was not a bragging post. This was a I was stupid so you don’t have to be post. What did we learn about office sex? Don’t do it! But if you must do it you horny stupid son of a bitch bastard, make sure it’s:

not with somebody in your department;

not with somebody in a relationship using you as a way out;

not with a crazy ass career killing sex fiend psycho;

not with somebody who calls you their “work boyfriend/girlfriend”;

not with a way younger college intern who annoys the shit out of you constantly;

not with somebody who oversees your responsibilities like a manager who can get your ass deported;

and definitely not with somebody whose responsibilities you oversee and can go all HR on your stupid ass.

But I’m telling you. Don’t shit where you eat! Don’t dip your pen in the company ink! Don’t make your vagina a corporate mouse pad! Wait, what? Anyways. Nothing good comes from office sex. Unless of course you do it right. Which you really can’t ok? And now you know. And knowing is half the battle…wait did I just quote GI Joe???

What do you think? Have any office sex stories? Are you in the middle of an office sex story? Did your office sex story have a happy ending? ZING! Holla at me! Get the tweeting, facebooking and buzzfeeding!

Until next time. Always take it there.

T

Filed Under: Alcohol, Awesomeness, Bro Code, Business, Dating, Different, Edgy, Entertainment, Facebook, Money, Opinionated, Sex, t-blawg, Uncategorized, Women, Work Tagged With: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,
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My “The Origin of T” Post

August 29, 2011 By Leave a Comment

I keep evolving yo

How did I become the man who writes this blog every Monday? A crazy bastard who lived through so much crazy shit? An opinionated, educated, creative, innovating smooth ladies man whose gift and curse may force him to live a permanent single life of awesomeness? Sometimes a funny yet rude Boston dude? How did I become T? Well get your popcorn ready. Pull up a chair. Pour yourself a glass of Courvoisier. And listen…um…read. Because I wasn’t always like this. I wasn’t always this cool. Some people feel that somebody, some woman, some thing must have had done a number on me to make me this way. This cynical. This experienced. This crazy. This honest. This opinionated. This funny. This awesome. This….humble. Yeah right. Well here’s how I came to be. The Origin of T.

After his epic battle with death at birth and his evil childhood moments….T still was always a good student. Always in the advanced classes. He was in the National Honor Society. Carried a 4.0 grade point average. He only missed 8 days of school his entire life. Seriously. He didn’t go to school because he liked it. Oh no. It was actually pretty easy for him. But he went every single day because he knew that good grades led to college which led to a good job which led to money which led to a better life. A way out. At times he actually took school a little too seriously. But outside of school, especially at home, he had developed one hell of an attitude problem. He needed that attitude he thought. It was his edge. T needed it to stay sharp. Yeah. At his childhood home. He had his reasons in which he probably won’t ever truly disclose on t-blawg. Maybe one day he will. Just trust T on this. So, his book smarts combined with his uncanny street ways with a little bad attitude mixed in, created one hell of a living, breathing, human contradiction. That was his youth. A good kid dealt a crappy hand? Yeah. But he always kept his sense of humor. Thanks to his strong mother, caring sister and equally crazy cousin. They kept him level headed. They kept him going. Seriously. This was when T was just a kid! From the ages of birth to like 13. Crazy right?! Normal childhoods are for pussies. That’s what T told myself.

T knew he was smart. He knew he was ballsy. He knew he was a badass. He just needed a nickname to go along with it. He was a dog. He lived on the third floor of an old three-family East Boston apartment building. His old Italian landlord kept a sign up that said “Beware of the dog.” This is why his friends started to call him T-Dog. And that name would stay with him for the rest of his life. T’s late teen years and early twenties were full of some crazy shit. His closest friends never knew which T was out with them. The smart college T. The angry gets into fights T. The loyal friend T. The hustler T. The funny charming ladies man T. Or the self destructive hates the world T. To this day he is very thankful for all the shit that the people in his life had to put up with during this time. And T managed. With a smile on his face. After all the gym time. After all the scars. After all the tats. He went on the straight and narrow. Graduated college. Calmed down. T entered corporate America and put most of his old life and ways behind him. Biz-T came to be. T went on the nightlife scene and met some spectacular women. And some not so spectacular. He had his heart broken. Twice. Smartened him up and made him search for a good woman. But occasionally dirty womanizing Nasty T would show up. He now embraced his inner cynicism. A little bitter. And the world later got T Thomas, the writer. The talent. Let’s just say T had many nicknames to match his many sides. Which he definitely should’ve seen a therapist about many years ago. But T never did. His sense of humor, charm, talent, loyalty and ambition, along with his legendary past full of trials and tribulations gave the world a living legend. T blogged about that once. T hopes you read it.

After years of becoming one hell of a man, T was comfortable with who he had become. He wanted to share his life, experiences, tales and opinions with the world. This is where his writing came into play. After at first only utilizing MySpace and Facebook to charm many many hot women, he listened to his inner circle of close friends and family. They said “T. Your updates and comments are hilarious!” and “You’re the man! Dude, you say shit and do things nobody else does.” T knew this. He always knew this! He was already a writer to a certain degree but the world did not get to see it from T’s point of view. It was time. The people wanted a blog. The people wanted T! The people wanted t-blawg!!! A place that captures T’s many sides while being entertained thanks to the mind of a one of a kind genius who always takes it there. A ladies man. A real man. A former punk. A writer. A businessman. A true Bostonian. A recovered asshole. A man who sometimes lived in his own crazy world! But what if this world collided with the regular world? What would happen??? t-blawg would happen. And here we are today. Is it really T’s world and we’re all just living in it now? He sure thinks so. And now you know. The Origin of T.

What did you think? Is it all starting to make sense now or you more confused than ever??? Tweet the kid. Facebook the kid. BuzzFeed the kid. Or holla right here people.

Until next time. Always take it there.

T

Filed Under: Awesomeness, Boston, Bro Code, Comedy, Dating, Different, Entertainment, Facebook, Funny, Movies, Opinionated, Screenwriting, Sex, Social Media, Sports, t-blawg, TV, Twitter, Uncategorized, Women, Writing Tagged With: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,
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My “Another Birthday Epiphany?” Post

August 22, 2011 By Leave a Comment

Just once. Please God. Just one fucking bday let it happen!

It’s my birthday. Another year gone by. Another year starting. So it’s time for another birthday epiphany post. This was last year’s. Last year I was humbled. I got hit with some major ass kryptonite and Superman lost his ability to fly. So I entered my “Legendary” Larry Bird year humanized. What did I learn during my Larry Bird year? A lot actually. I learned who my real family is. Who my real friends are. But most importantly, I learned a lot about myself. What I’m really capable of. And I learned that I have a lot of resolve. I learned that once I put my mind and heart into something, I get it done. I accomplish. I don’t break. This has actually been one hell of a fantastic year for me when I really think about it. The world tested the shit out of T and I stood tall. When all the dust was settled and all the smoke had cleared, I came out on top. Finally. After 2 years of battling in almost every aspect possible, I had won. I came through in the clutch. And I enter my Truth/Clutch year. My Paul Pierce/David Ortiz year.

What do I want to happen during this next year? Hmm. Again, I don’t let the age number dictate my life. I also don’t go by the regular fiscal year. I go birthday to birthday. So this year I just want it all. That’s right. Everything that I want I am going to get. And that’s the Truth. So I need to come through in the Clutch. Like only I can. I’m swinging for the fucking fences this year baby! I’m getting the title. Another title for Titletown! My banner is getting raised to the rafters. I want the success. I want the girl. I want Hollywood. I want my family to be set. I’m going toe to toe and taking out anything and anyone that gets in my way. Nothing is stopping me. I now have the foundation built and a life tested playbook for success. Now it’s just time to execute.

I definitely could write about my awesome annual bday bash that always has the same people there every year when I write these. My closest people. My inner circle. The ones who help me do what I do. The ones I do it for. They know this. Those parties are fucking epic. Let’s just say Puffy and Jay-Z don’t have shit on T’s birthday parties. But I would rather write about where my head is at. Where my heart is at. Where my life is at during my birthday. I think everybody should reflect on their birthday. The year that passed. The year ahead. It really is an epiphany. Your eyes are opened. Your head is cleared. Your heart is realigned. You see the Truth. You see what you have done or need to do in the Clutch. This is where I’m at. This is the year I have ahead for myself. And I’m fucking pumped for it!  It’s my Paul Pierce year. My David Ortiz year. Watch next year’s post. Mark my words. Happy bday to T.

Until next time. Always take it there.

T

Filed Under: Alcohol, Awesomeness, Birthday, Blog, Boston, Celebrity, Comedy, Crazy, Different, Edgy, Entertainment, Exciting, Facebook, Family, Funny, Holiday, Humor, Interesting, Life, Opinionated, Party, Screenwriting, Social Media, Sports, t-blawg, Titletown, Twitter, Uncategorized, Women, Work, Writing Tagged With: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,
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My “T Does Poughkeepsie in 3 Paragraphs” Post

August 15, 2011 By 5 Comments

The Albanian bartender was hotter

*I’ve decided to do a series of blog posts that capture my travels throughout my life. In 3 paragraphs. I’ll post them every once in a while. Some places I’ve been to a few times, others only once. And some I will probably never go back to because of what went down there.

If you’re from Poughkeepsie you may not want to read this “T Does City in 3 Paragraphs.” I’m serious. Ok. I warned you. I fucking hate Poughkeepsie. It is the taint of America. THE TAINT!!! The ass ball connector! It is horrible. I’ve been to Po-Town once in my life and I will never, ever go back. Now some people have their stereotypical opinions on why they think Poughkeepsie sucks. Not me. I have a legit beef with that fucking place. It’s personal. It’s ugly. And it’s time I tell the story right here on t-blawg. Most of my friends know this story. Because they laugh because they know me. Now years later I can laugh. But it took me over 3 years to get over what transpired there.

Enter November 2007. A good friend of mine moved back home to Poughkeepsie. She’s a really close friend. A member of my bullpen. She would always come back to Boston to visit so I figured I should visit her there. Plus I wanted to see her life there. I left work at 7PM on a Friday night. Shot to the store to pick up a nice new button up. Was on the Mass Pike by 8:30. After 3 & ½ hours of driving by myself and pumping red bull I finally got to her house. She and her roommate greeted me with wine. We killed that quick. Then we went to the only damn club in the whole town. I will not even give that place any publicity on my blog. Let’s call it “Fuckface.” The bartender was smoking hot and loved my Boston attitude. We hit it off. She gave me drinks. All the while this town unbeknownst to me, was apparently an Albanian mafia heavy town. That’s cool yo. I like everybody. Until there is a problem. So some Albanians in “Fuckface” didn’t like that the hottie Albanian bartender liked me. And I guess some of the Albanian chicks there were grilling me and their dudes didn’t like that either. So I kept drinking. “Fuckface” closes earlier than most spots and everybody left. I go to grab my expensive jacket in an empty coat check and it’s gone. This was a problem.

I’m from East Boston. Growing up, people would beat your ass and take your coat, hat and sneakers all the time. Well I never let that happen to me as a kid. So as an adult that shit was not going to happen to me in this hillbilly town in this club “Fuckface.” I went nuts. The cops came. They questioned people who worked at “Fuckface.” Nothing. They played video footage back. Nothing. And no coat room video camera either. So now everybody from “Fuckface” said to try the bar next door because the degenerates from this club may have stolen my jacket and went over there to finish the night. Cops told me not to, I did anyways. I looked around. My coat wasn’t there. I’m so drunk at this point I don’t even remember what the Albanian dudes from “Fuckface” look like. So after the police leave, hey fuck the police, I take the prison approach. Which is “Go after the biggest dog in the yard and beat his ass to set an example.” Hey I was drunk and angry. I know. And stupid. So, I go up to the biggest Albanian in there, shove my forearm into his throat and slam him against the wall demanding my jacket. Ten bouncers pull me out of there. I get on the phone to some old school Boston buddies and tell them to drive to Po-Town so we can blow this town up. My cousin told me to calm down and to be careful of the Albanian mafia. What?! He said I could get into some shit and I was far from Boston. Nobody told me about this before I decided to come to Poughkeepsie. I really wish somebody did. My friend and her brother took me to my first real diner and calmed me down. I went back to “Fuckface” the next day and scared the owner a bit. He cut a check for my coat. It wasn’t about the money. It was the principle. That was the last time the old me ever showed his face again. Thank God. I apologized to my friend. Spent the next night freezing my ass off without a coat and then went back home to Boston the next day. I vowed to never go back to Poughkeepsie again. I fucking hate Poughkeepsie. But I love Boston the most.

What do you think of this “T Does Some City”??? Definitely a negative review but look what happened! Have you ever been to Po-Town? What was your experience? And were you aware of the Albanian mafia??? I want to know! Here or on the Facebook page or tweet me on Twitter.

Until next time. Always take it there.

T

Filed Under: Alcohol, Awesomeness, Blog, Boston, Comedy, Crazy, Different, Edgy, Entertainment, Exciting, Facebook, Funny, Humor, Interesting, Life, Opinionated, Party, Social Media, t-blawg, travel, Twitter, Uncategorized, Women, Writing Tagged With: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,
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My “Bro Bachelor Party Code” Post

August 8, 2011 By 7 Comments

Watch this 80s classic before any bachelor party. It's friggin' "Bachelor Party!"

If you’ve been reading t-blawg, then you know I’m a real believer in Bro Code. Seriously. First there was my “I Respect the Bro Code and You Should Too” post. Which has reached iconic status. Google it. Then there was the “Bro Dress Code.” Which has reached epic proportions. Google that too. And the last chapter was my sure to be legendary “Bro Strip Club Code” post. Today I am here to add an interesting chapter that most men don’t talk about outside of their inner Bro Circle. They don’t want this part of the Bro Code public. And hey, I get that. I really do. But it is my responsibility to share my life knowledge right here on t-blawg.com! It’s what I do. So today I reveal the latest chapter in my Bro Code rule book….the “Bro Bachelor Party Code.” Wait! Hold on! Slow your roll. Don’t worry fellas. I’m not blowing up your spot. My spot. Our spots. We’re all in this together. The about to be married. The married. The single. The rules will be given without any incrimination. Trust me. T knows what he’s doing here. I’ve been in 6 bachelor parties in my life. And I know tons of other guys who have as well. These rules come from and for us all. The “Bro Bachelor Party Code.”

Thy Bachelor Party Email
A generic email is sent out with a subject line like “How about that game last night?” from the best man and brother(s) to all the bachelor’s bros. Make sure it’s secure. Just in case any outsiders like girlfriends or wives may read it. Tell all the guys that the bachelor party planning has been initiated. Email back if interested. Boom. No details yet. Hash that shit out once you get the replies.

Thy Two Types of Bachelor Parties
There is the home. And there is the away. You can have one. You can have both. Sometimes there are a few. Either way, this must be communicated to the bachelor and the participants. Everyone must be allowed the essential allocated time to plan. Many bachelor parties get fucked up because there is a failure to communicate. Don’t fuck it up!

Thy Bachelor Party Essentials
All that generic golf, spa, camping, fishing shit etc. can or cannot happen. This is the real shit right here! Dinner-to please the old fuckers and weirdos so you can get rid of them and the bachelor’s future in-laws early so the ugly shit can then happen. Booze-goes without saying. Transportation-to get every single guy around. Especially the bachelor. Naked Girls-whether it’s a strip club, strippers in a hotel or getting regular chicks naked on the party bus, it must happen. Casino-Vegas or the local Indian casino. Doesn’t matter. Find one.

Ye ‘Ol Bachelor
It’s about him. Period. But he has no say. And can’t know what is going to happen ahead of time. This way he can’t get into shit with the bride to be before the party and say something like “Suzie doesn’t want any gambling or strippers.” Yeah ok buddy. Fuck Suzie. So you don’t tell him shit! And he must get drunk within proportion to what you are doing to him. He will need to be functional enough to take the whole night in. Bachelor party bros’ job is to make sure the bachelor has fun not die. His wife can slowly kill him over time after the honeymoon. Zing!

Ye guys go to dinner
Have this dinner. Nice and early. For the bride’s dad, uncles, brothers and cousins. Feed them. Chat them up. And then let them know it’s time for them to go. Be nice. But be firm. I don’t give a shit if the bachelor thinks any of them are cool. These guys are not a part of the inner circle. They will make the bachelor feel weird during one of his lap dances or 82nd shot. Get rid of them. All of them. Even his dad and annoying, weird hillbilly relatives. Shit just got real.

There shall be no physical proof the party ever happened. Ever.
If you bring a camera you get punched in the face. If you take a pic with your phone, it gets smashed in your face. If you check-in/foursquare in any place on the bachelor party path, you get stabbed in the face.

There shall be naked women
Doesn’t matter if the bachelor was firmly against this. He’ll be happy as a pig in shit when he has some big ass titties in his face. Whether it’s on the bus, in the club or in a Vegas suite in the Bellagio the naked women must happen. It’s his last hurrah. Whether he engages in sexual activities or not with them is totally up to the bachelor. Just pay for him. Don’t ever judge him. And always act like it didn’t happen. He may be a douche for doing it, but it’s his party.

There shall be gambling
A card game. A casino. Flipping fucking quarters behind the 7-11. An intense game of friggin’ Uno! Whatever. Gamble!

There shall be lots of booze
At the dinner. The bus. The hotel. The bar. The strip club. The club club. Booze all over the place! The bachelor should have a drink at all times. Doesn’t need to double fist. Just never thirsty.

There shall be no communication to thy outside world
No phone calls. No texts. No facebooking. Not for the groom. Not for anybody! Who the fuck are you talking to at a bachelor party while you’re smashed and have 2 naked chicks molesting each other on the stage in front of you anyways?! Just take the groom’s phone from him right after the dinner.

Thy groom never ever sends flowers to thy crazy bride
This admits guilt or will make the bride think you’re guilty of something even if you didn’t do anything dumb ass. It isn’t sweet. It isn’t smart. Shut up. The guys must make sure the bachelor doesn’t do this on an away bachelor party. This is a major bachelor party foul.

All bros shall pay. No freebies.
Any cheap dudes need not come. Seriously. Bachelor parties are not cheap. If you can’t participate, stay home. Nothing personal but nobody likes that guy who can’t pay when it’s his round. Or doesn’t throw in for any of the entertainment or anything. Just stay the hell home and take the bachelor out for some drinks on your own.

There shall be fear!
Sometimes the occasional bride brother or rat bastard cousin makes it on the whole bachelor party run. As the bachelor’s bro it is your job to either install fear into the hearts of them or pay to have some dirty sexual shit done to them to keep them silent. I’ve offered to kill a couple of the bride’s brothers in my time but the bachelor stopped me. So I just threatened the shit out of them then had a hot ass waitress do mouth to mouth shots to them. It worked.

Thy Bachelor Pays for Nothing
Not a single drink. Not one cover charge. Not one gas station stop snack. Not one lap dance. Not one hand job. NOTHING!!! I’ve seen too many bachelors pay out of pocket for shit on their bachelor parties because their buddies were either too cheap, broke or selfishly looking out for themselves to cover for them. Bullshit. He doesn’t pay. That’s it.

AFTER THY PARTY!

Nobody shall ever talk about the bachelor party once it has ended!
The bachelor cannot talk to the bride about it. The other bros cannot talk to each other about it. You are now bonded to that inner bro circle for life. Whether you are long time friends or total strangers with the other bros. You never bring up what another bro did at that bachelor party if you ever end up in an argument with that bro. And no one can talk to anyone outside of the bachelor party about it ever! It’s like it never happened. Get it? Good.

So there you have it. The latest chapter in T’s Bro Code. The Bro Bachelor Party Code. I don’t want to see any dudes messing up any other bachelor parties from this moment on. Or even speaking about them. Ever. You now know the deal. It has been written, so shall it be!

What did you think of the latest Bro Code chapter? Is it right on? Did it help? Did this one break Bro Code? Let me know! You know the deal. Right here or on Twitter and Facebook!

Until next time. Always take it there.

T

Filed Under: Alcohol, Awesomeness, Blog, Bro Code, Comedy, Crazy, Different, Edgy, Entertainment, Exciting, Facebook, Funny, Humor, Interesting, Las Vegas, Life, Money, Opinionated, Party, Sex, Social Media, t-blawg, travel, Twitter, Uncategorized, Wing Man, Women, Writing Tagged With: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,
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My “T’s Manscaping Rules” Post

August 1, 2011 By 8 Comments

I did this once in my life. It absolutely sucked.

I am a full blooded testosterone filled man. I like to look good. I stay in shape. I take care of myself. But I am far from being a pretty boy. Far from being a metrosexual. Case in point. My former neighbor and greatest QB to ever play the game, Tom Brady. He’s a metrosexual. A pretty boy. The only thing I have in common with pretty boy metrosexuals like Tom Brady is grooming. AKA Manscaping. It’s necessary. Every man does it. Few talk about it. Well not T. You want to know about Manscaping rules? Here we go.

The face
I shave every other day. I like a day old stubble. Works well when I’m suited up at the office. Even better on the weekends. I rarely shave on the weekends unless I have a good reason. Like a hot date. Occasionally I’ll grow in a goatee. That’s it. If you grow in a beard keep it tight. It should be a playoff beard really. If you grow in one of those really thin trimmed beard things like you’re a rapper or a boy band singer, you’re an asshole. If you have star shaped symbols or other weird shaped beard designs? You are a douche.

Head
I get a haircut every 3 weeks. By the time you’re 30, you should have a look. It’s not a style. It’s more like a whatever. But it’s your whatever. Usually 5 days after my haircut is when it looks it’s best. I don’t know why. It just does. I keep the sides short. The top a little longer. And throw some shit in sometimes to stick up the front. It’s my whatever. But I keep it looking good and right. You should too. No excuse to go longer than 3 weeks without a haircut.

Eyebrows
Mines are thick. That’s what she said. But I keep them tight with a trimmer. I pluck the loose hairs in between because I don’t want an Italian man unibrow. Fuck that. That is weird. Trim those brows bro.

Ears
I don’t have a major problem but the occasional long hair started sprouting out after the age of 25. I trim that shit with a trimmer too. It’s weird but I’m a man. Shit happens. If you have ear hairs, they shouldn’t be seen. Your ears shouldn’t look like a cactus.

Nose
Pluck those hairs bro. Nothing more nasty than talking to a chick and a long ass jungle vine drops out of your nose and floats in the wind.

Back of the neck
This area should always be clean. In between haircuts I take buzzers to it. Women appreciate the clean look back there. They like touching it when they pull you in close to tell you a secret. Haha.

Chest
I’m Italian. So I have manly chest hair. I have since I hit puberty. I also used to be a young gym rat who used to shave his chest almost daily. Now that I’m 30+ not so much anymore. I embrace my chest hair. I’m a fucking man. Not a little boy. I’m also not a werewolf like some Italians, so my chest mane stays well kept mostly on it’s own. With the occasional Summer shave down. Hey. It’s a habit I’m not sure needs breaking. Depends on the chick in your bed yo. Remember that.

Back
Back hair is a touchy subject for men. It’s like chicks who can grow in man mustaches. Not those cute light blonde chick mustaches. I’m talking like the shit I can grow on my face! And a lot of women can. So you run to go get that shit waxed 3 times a week at the place near your work on the down low and act like you don’t have a problem. That’s cool. I get it. Same with back hair for us dudes. I’m lucky enough that my awesome Italian man genetics don’t give me a forest on my back but I can grow in a small thin coating up top near my shoulders. I used to go get a wax like every 6 months. It wasn’t really painful. Just annoying. But the chicks that did it were really hot and I always hoped for a happy ending because it felt like a Taiwanese massage parlor. It was pretty cheap for me because there wasn’t much to wax. Thank God. Then a few years ago I was at Bed Bath & Beyond with a chick bored out of my damn skull and came across the Man Groomer. It’s a long thin buzzer for your back basically. $40. Score. Now I use that when I’m Manscaping. Maybe you should too.

The whole man junk area
A real man doesn’t take a razor and shave his dick area bald. Don’t try to look like a newborn baby. That’s weird bro. Seriously. And you’re not a porn star with that thing. Chill out. But don’t have a 70s porn bush down there either. Take the buzzers to it once a week and trim it down a little. Above it. The balls. The shaft. The taint. Keep it tight and looking good. It’s our gift to the world!

The arms
I’ve recently been told by a woman that shaved man arms make her want to vomit. The old gym rat in me says to shave them down. Plus I have tattoos on my forearms. Honestly, most of the time now I just let them be. I’m a man who has hairy arms. Not like Robin Williams fur hairy. But Italian hair nonetheless. Fuck it. I’m a grown ass man and you can still see the tats. I say keep the arm hair. Until you don’t want to. I flip flop on this like the chest sometimes. Sue me.

Anywhere else on the body
Ass. Legs. Armpits. Toe knuckles. You do whatever the hell you want. I consider these parts unimportant until they need to be important. If you get serious with a chick and she has to look at you and all these parts, then just do whatever the hell she says to them. Because she’ll be touching them and looking at them more than you. And all those other parts I named above too actually. At this point, she is your Manscaping expert. Keep her happy. Just makes sure she does her Ladyscaping to keep you happy.

Manscaping. We all should do it. Not just Tom Brady. Now you know.

Do you manscape? Is it wrong? Is it a necessity? Do you even care??? Ladies, what do you think? Tweet me, Facebook me or comment it up right here on t-blawg!

Until next time. Always take it there.

T

Filed Under: Awesomeness, Blog, Bro Code, Comedy, Crazy, Dating, Different, Edgy, Entertainment, Exciting, Facebook, Funny, Health, Humor, Interesting, Life, Opinionated, Sex, Social Media, t-blawg, Tattoos, Twitter, Uncategorized, Women, Writing Tagged With: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,
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My “The 1st Ten: T’s Bromance Comedy” Post

July 25, 2011 By 4 Comments

T's autobiography or one hell of a movie?!

In case you didn’t know, I’m not just an honest, funny, original blogger. I’m also a screenwriter. And some of you have asked to read some of my scripts. Ok. Some of my work is being shopped around but I would like to share some material right here on t-blawg. Copyrighted material! So you steal it, I sue! In Hollywood if you can get somebody to read through the first ten pages, then you may have a decent script. It’s the introduction. So I am presenting a new feature here on t-blawg. It’s called “The 1st Ten”.

This script is a bromance comedy. PG-13ish. Think “The Hangover” meets “40 Year-Old Virgin.”

How does the ultimate bachelor have a relationship with “the one” when all he knows is hooking up and his married buddies refuse to let him settle down because they live for his many conquests?

I present “T’s Bromance Comedy”:

*Don’t mind the formatting here!

FADE IN:

INT. TOMMY’S BEDROOM. DAY
A beautiful WOMAN, 23, is on top of TOMMY, 25, kissing him in bed. Tommy is good looking. He’s in shape and has a boyish smile. The two just finished having sex. She drops and lays next to him smiling and rubbing his bare chest.

TOMMY
(smiling)
Now that’s what I’m talking about!

WOMAN
Oh my God. That was amazing.

TOMMY
(proudly)
No doubt.

WOMAN
I just want to let you know I never do stuff like this.

TOMMY
You could’ve fooled me babe.

WOMAN
Not the sex silly. I mean meeting a guy in a bar and going home with him. I never do that.

TOMMY
Me neither.

WOMAN
Yeah right.

TOMMY
Seriously. I never go home with guys I meet in bars.

The woman laughs. She reaches over for her cell phone and checks the time.

WOMAN
Shit! I’m going to be late for work!

TOMMY
It’s all good honey! It’s only 10:00!

She hops out of bed and rushes around trying to get dressed as Tommy smiles with his arms behind his head.

WOMAN
Some of us actually have to work real nine to five jobs!

TOMMY
Well one day maybe you too can be in charge.

WOMAN
I thought you were only like a VP of publishing or something!

TOMMY
Only? Honey, if the President dies, that means I’m in charge of everything!

WOMAN
I don’t think it works like that. If your company is anything like mine, there’s probably like thirteen other VPs and at least five presidents.

TOMMY
What’s your point?

WOMAN
I don’t even have time to go home and change! People are going to know I hooked up.

TOMMY
Dude the walk of shame sucks.

She runs over to Tommy and gives him a kiss.

WOMAN
Well it was worth it.

TOMMY
It was spectacular! I was spectacular!

WOMAN
(laughing)
Yes you were! Gotta go! Dinner this weekend?

TOMMY
(beat)
Yeah sure.

WOMAN
Call me!

TOMMY
You betcha!

She leaves the apartment.

Tommy looks up from bed smiling ear to ear.

TOMMY (CONT’D)
T, you are the man.

Tommy jumps out of bed.

His place is a bachelor pad. The apartment is full of expensive electronics and furniture.

He turns on his iPod dock and plays Jay-Z.

TOMMY (CONT’D)
(singing)
Big pimpin’ spendin’ cheese!

Tommy showers and then goes through his assortment of suits in his closet.

He lays down different combinations of expensive suits, ties and shirts.

TOMMY (CONT’D)
What’s the point? I look good in them all!

Tommy is suited up. He drinks a protein shake and then grabs his bag and leaves.

INT. OFFICE. DAY
BILLY, 23, is sitting in his cubicle on the phone. Billy is a young looking, wide eyed man-child.

BILLY
I know I went out last night but it’s Friday! Guys night out honey!
(beat)
Last night was Thirsty Thursday and T nailed a big account! We talked about this already. Stop yelling.
(beat)
I KNOW HOW HE IS!
(beat)
I’m not raising my voice. Sorry. I don’t know if he hooked up or not.
(beat)
You’re right. He IS such a man whore! I don’t know why I hang out with him either.
(beat)
Okay! I said okay!

Tommy walks in.

TOMMY
Bill Eazay what up kid?!

They high five.

BILLY
(on the phone)
Gotta go! I’ll call you later!

He SLAMS the phone down.

BILLY (CONT’D)
Big T! 11:30 and just rolling into work. I love it!

TOMMY
Was that the wifey?

BILLY
She was giving me crap about going out with you last night.

TOMMY
Still?

BILLY
She’s always giving me crap now. Since the wedding. Seven weeks ago.

TOMMY
I keep telling you to tell her that you’re not out with me anymore. You’re always going to be guilty by association man.

BILLY
I know.

TOMMY
And didn’t you go home at like 7:00?

BILLY
Yes. Everything changed since we got married. Just seven weeks ago!

TOMMY
I know man. I was there.

BILLY
She’s like a different woman.

TOMMY
You were warned. A lot.

Billy starts to smile.

TOMMY (CONT’D)
What?

BILLY
So how did it go with Sharon?

TOMMY
Who’s Sharon?

BILLY
The chick from the bar last night!

TOMMY
Was that her name?

BILLY
Oh man! You hooked up?! Again!

Tommy laughs.

BILLY (CONT’D)
Man I saw that coming! I miss everything now! Tell me how it went down.

Billy’s phone RINGS. He leans over to look at it.

BILLY (CONT’D)
Dammit! Why is she calling me now!?

Tommy starts to walk away laughing.

BILLY (CONT’D)
Wait don’t go! I want details man!  Details! I need them!

TOMMY
I’ll tell you at lunch. Come grab me in twenty minutes.

BILLY
Lunch? You just got in.

TOMMY
What’s your point?

Billy’s cell phone starts RINGING.

BILLY
Now she’s calling me on both phones.

TOMMY
(laughing)
You better answer that.

BILLY
Keep laughing. This might be you some day!

TOMMY
No way dude! I love my life!

BILLY
I love my WIFE!

The phones keeping RINGING. Tommy walks away.

TOMMY
Keep telling yourself that!

BILLY
See you in twenty bro!

Billy answers his cell phone.

BILLY (CONT’D)
WHAT?!
(beat)
I’m sorry for raising my voice honey.

INT. TOMMY’S OFFICE. LATER
Tommy is leaning back in his chair with his feet on his desk. He’s on the phone.

TOMMY
Jon, I’m telling you this girl wasn’t a Boston ten. She was an LA ten.
(beat)
I’m serious man!
(beat)
Hey you got out the game.  I remember when we raised your jersey and retired your number at your bachelor party two years ago.

Tommy laughs.

TOMMY (CONT’D)
Your wife’s still a ten man. And she’ll still be one after my god-daughter is born.

Billy RUNS into Tommy’s office.

BILLY
Walk out here with me now!

TOMMY
What?

BILLY
WALK OUT HERE WITH ME NOW!

TOMMY
Jon, I’ll see you tonight. Everybody’s in. Later.

Tommy hangs up the phone.

TOMMY (CONT’D)
Don’t be storming all up in here and yelling at me like that. I’m a VP bitch!

BILLY
You have to see the new chick.

Tommy jumps out of his chair.

TOMMY
She hot?

BILLY
What do you think?

TOMMY
I don’t know with you. You have no scale. I’ve met your wife.

BILLY
My wife is hot bro.

Tommy puts his suit jacket on and fixes his tie.

TOMMY
I’m messing with you. Let’s go.

They walk out of Tommy’s office quickly.

SUSAN, 24, is a sexy, provocatively dressed woman. She is walking around the office with ALLISON, 25, introducing her to the employees. Allison is the beautiful girl next door. Her big eyes are amazing. A natural beauty without trying.

TOMMY (CONT’D)
Whoa.

BILLY
What did I tell you? My scale is the bomb. She’s a ten. An LA ten!

TOMMY
Slow your roll. She could be good from far, far from good. Plus she’s with Susan. The biggest crotch blocker around.

BILLY
That’s cause she still wants you.

TOMMY
Of course she does.

The two women start to walk over to them.

TOMMY (CONT’D)
Quick act busy.

The girls see them pick up random papers from the desk they are standing near.

TOMMY (CONT’D)
(loudly)
So, what we need to do here is compile all of our resources and-

BILLY
Right, right.

TOMMY
And then we will be able to utilize the pythagorean theorem here-

The girls get closer.

BILLY
Absolutely. Absolutely Mr. Vice President.

SUSAN
Stop acting like you two are working.

TOMMY
And then the result will allow us to make millions. Possibly billions!

Allison smiles.

BILLY
Maybe even trillions!

TOMMY
(slowly)
May be.

BILLY
You are such a genius.

TOMMY
I know. Oh hey Susan. Didn’t see you there. And who is this?

SUSAN
Whatever. Tommy, Billy this is Allison. She’s the new senior graphic designer in marketing.

ALLISON
Hi, nice to meet you.

Tommy is smitten.

BILLY
Hi.

Tommy reaches his hand out.

TOMMY
So nice to meet you Allison.

SUSAN
Try staying away from this one Tommy. I know it will be hard for you.

TOMMY
What are you talking about?

SUSAN
Tommy is an asshole. And Billy is a border line retard.

Allison laughs.

BILLY
You’re in HR! You have to stop describing us like that to new employees Susan!

ALLISON
Got it. Mentally challenged. And A-hole.

TOMMY
(smiling)
Not only am I an A-hole, but I’m also the VP of publishing. I’m important. Please remember that.

ALLISON
(smiling)
Okay, I’ll be sure to remember that.

TOMMY
That’s all I ask.

The girls walk away. Allison, still smiling, glances back at Tommy.

So there it is. I shared the 1st ten pages of my bromance comedy. Can you tell where the inspiration came from? Does Tommy sound familiar? I bet he does! This script was actually t-blawg before t-blawg existed. The story gets better.

Would you read more??? Let me know on here, Facebook or Twitter!

Until next time. Always take it there.

T

Filed Under: Awesomeness, Blog, Boston, Bro Code, Comedy, Crazy, Dating, Different, Edgy, Entertainment, Exciting, Facebook, Funny, Humor, Interesting, Movies, Screenwriting, Sex, Social Media, t-blawg, TV, Twitter, Uncategorized, Wing Man, Women, Writing Tagged With: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,
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My “T Defines Pink Hatter” Post

July 18, 2011 By Leave a Comment

Not just for shallow women either

For as long as t-blawg has existed you have heard about my disdain for Pink Hatters. But what the hell is a Pink Hatter exactly? I’ll tell you. During our “Decade of Dominance” of 2001-2011, a lot of fake ass and wannabe Bostonians jumped on our sports teams’ bandwagons because we went from total suckiness to total awesomeness. It started with the Pats. Then the Sox. Then the Celtics. And now with the Bruins with their epic Stanley Cup victory. Our arenas and stadiums have become full of fake fan women wearing pink Pats hats. Pink Sox hats. Pink Cs hats. Pink Bruins hats. They are women who don’t know shit about the team. About the players. About the history. About loyalty. They just wanted to be seen at these games and/or finally cheer them on because our teams had become cool in their eyes. They thought they looked cute. Then the term Pink Hatter also started to be thrown around at guys who were also jumping on the bandwagon. Even though they didn’t actually wear the pink hats, they still became pink fucking hatters in the eyes of real fans due to their lack of loyalty and total embracement of fakeness and douchiness. They are Pink Hatters. How can you spot a Pink Hatter? Do you think you may know a Pink Hatter? Are you a Pink Hatter yourself? Well here’s how you know! I’m defining the Pink Hatter right here, right now. T style of course.

You are a Pink Hatter if….you never cheered for a Boston sports team before 2001.

You are a Pink Hatter if….you’ve never been to an actual game but claim to be a “real fan.”

You are a Pink Hatter if….you had the balls to cheer “We want the Cup!” recently but didn’t start cheering it until like game 6 or 7 of the Stanley Cup finals.

You are a Pink Hatter if….you just want to get out of work early as the reason why you go to our Duck Boat victory parades.

You are a Pink Hatter if….you can’t name a single player when they are not wearing their uniform.

You are a Pink Hatter if….you are more concerned about Tom Brady’s hair than his stats.

You are a Pink Hatter if….you didn’t cry when Cam Neely tried to come back.

You are a Pink Hatter if….you didn’t enjoy Pedro tossing Don Zimmer by his old ass head.

You are a Pink Hatter if….you didn’t know Drew Bledsoe, Scott Zolak or Steve Grogan existed before Tom Brady.

You are a Pink Hatter if….you don’t remember “Squish the Fish” or “Bury the Bears”.

You are a Pink Hatter if….you didn’t believe in “The Curse of the Great Bambino”.

You are a Pink Hatter if….you don’t know who Mookie Wilson, Bucky Dent or Aaron Boone are.

You are a Pink Hatter if….you wear heels and a dress to a Cs game like you’re at the club.

You are a Pink Hatter if….any of your sports gear has “bling”.

You are a Pink Hatter if….you need a drinking glove to tailgate at The Razor in January.

You are a Pink Hatter if….you don’t always order 2 beers/2 dogs every time you get up to piss at Fenway.

You are a Pink Hatter if….you need to ask at Fenway “What is the name of that yellow pole again?”

You are a Pink Hatter if….you don’t remember that one time Jose Canseco pitched for the Sox.

You are a Pink Hatter if….the names Troy Brown, Adam Oates, Mike Greenwell and Xavier McDaniel don’t sound familiar.

You are a Pink Hatter if….you don’t get emotional when talking about Len Bias or Reggie Lewis.

You are a Pink Hatter if….you don’t know the original Big 3.

You are a Pink Hatter if….you never said the words “wait ‘til next year”.

You are a Pink Hatter if….you only watch during the playoffs.

You are a Pink Hatter if….you claim to be a diehard yet tweet about how you’re out to dinner during a playoff game; regular season Yankees games; Lakers games; Habs games or Colts games!

You are a Pink Hatter if….you just want to get on the jumbotron.

You are a Pink Hatter if….you never sat near the dancing old guy with the hat and mustache, the dancing little kid, Santa Claus or Tupac Shakur at the Garden during a Cs game.

You are a Pink Hatter if….you didn’t have a crush on the hotness that was Kelly the Ball Girl.

You are a Pink Hatter if….you’re a dopey college kid who got killed by a bean bag bullet to the head because you only took to the streets of Boston after one of our teams won a championship to act like an idiot by climbing a tree, a traffic light, a light pole or jumped on the hood of a car without even watching the game we just won.

You are a Pink Hatter if….you only banged the players without even knowing why you banged them just because you heard they’re on the team. Groupie ho.

You are a Pink Hatter if….you didn’t know Andy Moog or Reggie Lemelin before Tim Thomas.

You are a Pink Hatter if….your stomach doesn’t turn when you still watch old tapes of when Bird’s back started to go.

You are a Pink Hatter if….you don’t remember when there weren’t any seats on the Monster.

You are a Pink Hatter if….you never went to a game in the old Garden.

You are a Pink Hatter if….you don’t remember where and when Paul Pierce got stabbed at that club that one time.

You are a Pink Hatter if….you don’t remember where you were when Bledsoe got taken out and that backup QB came in.

You are a Pink Hatter if….you don’t hear yourself saying out loud to anyone in ear shot at any family wedding, funeral or other important event “Why isn’t the game on?”, “Where the fuck is the TV in this place? The game is starting.” or “Does anyone know the score of the game?”

You are a Pink Hatter if….you don’t respect the bloody sock.

You are a Pink Hatter if….the name Grady Little doesn’t piss you the fuck off.

You are a Pink Hatter if….you don’t giggle like a little girl when Don & Remy giggle like little girls.

You are a Pink Hatter if….you don’t know why the year 1986 is etched in real Bostonians memories.

You are a Pink Hatter if….you think Tommy is biased when it comes to the Celtics. No way! He calls it down the line bro! Tommy Point!!!

You are a Pink Hatter if….you have to ask why they’re booing Kevin Youkilis.

You are a Pink Hatter if….you never appreciated Hazel Mae’s epic boobs or Tina Cervasio’s epic mouth or Heidi Watney’s epic everything.

You are a Pink Hatter if….you think it’s Black & Yellow instead of Black & Gold around here.

You are a Pink Hatter if….you didn’t believe “The Tuna” was going to get us a Super Bowl victory.

You are a Pink Hatter if….you don’t bow down to the Gods that are Bobby Orr, Ted Williams or Larry Bird every time their names are mentioned.

You are a Pink Hatter if….you don’t know why Doug Flutie was, is and will always be popular around Boston.

You are a Pink Hatter if….you don’t know damn well that Larry Bird ain’t walking through that door!

You are a Pink Hatter if….you don’t do the double fist pump with Rene every time.

You are a Pink Hatter if….you don’t get out of your seat and do the “For another Patriots’ first down!” first down gesture at Gillette.

You are a Pink Hatter if….you don’t sing “Sweet Caroline” for at least another 30 seconds after the music stops at Fenway.

You are a Pink Hatter if….you don’t know when it’s time to do the Ric Flair “Woooooo!” at a Bs game.

You are a Pink Hatter if….you don’t know when it’s “Peanut Butter Jelly Time!”

And finally. You are a Pink Hatter if….you wear any pink Boston sports gear; need to ask any Boston sports questions about anything before 2001 because you don’t know shit; or don’t have a legit answer to “You missed the game???”

There you have it. T has defined the Pink Hatter. Why I hate Pink Hatters. And how to recognize a no good, dirty Pink Hatter. It is now on all of us to rid our great city of Boston of these Pink Hatters. Let’s do it people!!!

Are you a Pink Hatter? Do you know of any other Pink Hatter symptoms? Let me know! Hit me up here. On Facebook. Or on Twitter. Or even if you ever just want to talk Boston sports!

Until next time. Always take it there.

T

Filed Under: Awesomeness, Blog, Boston, Comedy, Different, Edgy, Entertainment, Exciting, Facebook, Funny, Humor, Interesting, Life, Opinionated, Social Media, Sports, t-blawg, Titletown, Twitter, Uncategorized, Writing Tagged With: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,
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My “Breaking the Bad Dating Cycle” Post

July 11, 2011 By 6 Comments

If you use this line, you're bad at dating

In all my years of dating I have come to one mind boggling conclusion. You ready? Here it is. 99% of people dating go for two types. The ones that treat you bad and the ones you can treat bad. This is fact! And this is sad. Now congrats to you 1%ers out there who have managed to meet somebody who you treat well and treats you as equally well. As Christian Bale once said on the set of the Terminator “Ooohhhh good for yooouuuu!” The rest of us are still in the trenches still battling and trying to figure this shit out. Well I think I have. And I’m going to share it right now. You want to break that bad dating cycle you are in? You want to start to actually enjoy dating? Well old T got you covered. Here’s how you break that bad cycle. Let’s all break that bad cycle!

Let’s not be nice at first.
WHAT?! Don’t be nice? Exactly. Be shallow at first. If you don’t have even the itsy bitsy hint of a physical attraction to the person who just walked up to you at the bar then let it be known. A simple “Thank you. I’m flattered. But I’m not interested.” Done! If you don’t have interest don’t give your number! If you don’t have interest, don’t drink the damn free drink! If you’re not excited about the date, then don’t go on the date! Now we can all focus on the people who actually have a genuine interest from the start.

Your friends aren’t always right!
Your friends love you, of course. They have your back, yes. But sometimes we listen to them and they’re…wrong. Maybe they are jealous. Maybe they are bitter. Maybe they are just stupid. You know who really knows what and who you like? YOU. Make the call yourself. Get to know the person you are dating regardless of what your friends may or may not know about the person. You know best. Find out and decide for yourself. Do not date on assumptions from those outside of the things the two of you are sharing alone together.

Go Against Type
Date somebody who is the complete opposite of the type of person you usually date. Go in open minded. Try it. See what happens. You have nothing to lose and maybe a whole new world to gain. If it sucks, then go back to the type who has made your life miserable for so many years.

Nobody Meets Somebody by Staying In or Going Home Early
Don’t stay in your house 7 nights a week! Don’t be that person who goes home early when all of your friends are still out having a great time! Yes we all have to be up early for work. Yes we all have AM meetings. Yes we all have to make it to the gym. But you never know what you missed. And I’m not talking about the stupid shit your drunk friend usually does every time. I’m talking about the perfect someone who walked in the second after you left and you never even met. Think about that shit.

Don’t Start It With Sex
Do not hookup one drunk night and think you can now date. Do not go on the first date, hookup and think you can now date. You are out of your fucking mind if you think it will work out. Eventually, shit will end. It will end badly. It will end awkwardly. All because you couldn’t hold out a couple of dates to get to know each other before you boned. Trust me on this. I speak from experience. I do not repeat this mistake.

Don’t End It With Sex
If you think you can have one last banging session before you break up with somebody and then start dating somebody else fresh and new without having any lingering effects from that last banging, you are bat shit crazy! You are breaking up for a reason. If you still want to have sex, then you still want to be with that person. It’s not fair to the new person you are dating and most importantly, it’s not fair to yourself. Smarten the fuck up.

Mixed signals are pointless
If you like the person you just met or are dating, tell them. No having to think about it. No wondering if you should or shouldn’t. If you have any hesitation, tell them and then don’t date them. Move on to the next one. No leading on. That is just straight douchebaggery.

The Games Stop in Your early 20s People
I played games. You’ve played games. Did it. Learned from it. No longer doing it. If you are 25+ and still playing those “playa/playette” games, you are a piece of shit and deserve to be alone forever. Karma will bite you in your ass. Don’t play games with those who don’t deserve it when you are an adult just because you can. Because if you are still doing this, then you aren’t an adult. Dating isn’t a fucking power game. Learn this.

Once You Let Somebody Know You Like Them and They Don’t Feel The Same? Walk Away. You’ll Never Be Friends.
This is so obvious yet some of us still want to be friends. Why? We all already have plenty of friends. You’ll never be real friends with this person. Ever. Regardless of how nice they are, cut them off. You have to.

It’s Not Just About You
Dating is a compromise. Put them first. They put you first. You give then take. They give then take. That’s it. If you have constantly been putting yourself first in every one of your dating situations, now you know why none of them ever work out.

Jealousy Is Never a Good Look
The #1 dating killer! Why be jealous? If they don’t want to be with you, then let them go. Otherwise, just be secure in yourself and know how much of a great catch you are and they will know the same. Don’t be jealous. Be confident in your shit. Own your shit.

Check Your Baggage At Your Door
The key is “YOUR” door. Check it before you leave your place. Don’t bring it to theirs. The past is the past. Let it stay there. Only worry about what you have now and want for the future. That’s it. Start fresh and just enjoy each other!

So there you have it! This information is a surefire way to break the bad dating cycle. Print this out. Put it in your wallet, purse, fanny pack, back pocket, whatever. Bring it on your first few dates and then thank me later. Now go out and have some good fucking dates people!!!

What do you think of my advice? My dating posts are usually pretty popular. Have anything to add to help break the bad dating cycle? Comment here, tweet or facebook me!

Until next time. Always take it there.

T

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