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My “Bro Money Code” Post

November 28, 2011 By Leave a Comment

It cost a lot to get her to pose for that pic

If you cut up my brain, any guy’s brain actually, I believe you will find the 4 things that are always on our minds. Sex. Food. Sports. Money. Men are simple creatures. I don’t deny that. But we know what we like and once again, there are rules to the things in a man’s life. And so there are rules to…money. Money amongst bros. Money made. Money spent. Money borrowed. Money wasted. Big stacks. Little stacks. Money, money, money!!! It can be one of the more touchier Bro Code topics. But not if you really are a bro. Let’s talk bucks people. I present my latest chapter in the Bro Code series. My Bro Money Code. With a little more commentary than usual. Because money is no joke bro.

How much you make bro???
Bros do not discuss how much they make for a living. Tightest bros. Newest bros. You don’t ask. Ever. You don’t bring it up. Ever. Only pussy bros ask because they are nervous you make more than them. It’s an inferiority complex. Have some fucking class bro. Want me to buy you some?

If money is owed you pay it back before you do anything else. ANYTHING ELSE!
I never borrow from a pal. Ever. But if there is something that involves a pal paying for something before I see him, I immediately greet him next time I see him with money in hand. That’s just me. That should be you. If you owe a bro, do not buy anything else. Do not go on a vacation. Do not take your girl out to that expensive restaurant. Do not buy that iPad. Do not go to the game. Do not buy shit until you pay back your bro! Doesn’t matter if it’s a dollar or a thousand dollars. YOU PAY THY OWED BRO FIRST!!!

Gambling amongst guys
I do not gamble. I have too much respect for money because I didn’t have any growing up. And I’ve seen the evils of what gambling can do to a family. But as a grown man, I have to accept my bros who gamble. Fine. But if you gamble bro, do it so it doesn’t impact your other bros, your career, your health, your family or your future. Control that shit. Man up or stop it dude.

Boozin’ it up!
It’s simple. I’ve said it before. When it’s your round just pay like a good bro. And don’t pull that you’ll have a Bud Light shit when it’s your round and the expensive top shelf hard shit when it’s not. That is bad bro boozin’!

The bro with the higher salary does not pay every time
Even when you don’t know exactly what a guy makes you have an idea when he’s making decent bucks. This doesn’t mean he pays more than every other guy out every time. If you can’t hang with the big dogs then don’t act like a little bitch. ZING!

It’s not about the couple bucks, it’s the principle
When it comes time to pay, regardless of what it is, throw in. It doesn’t matter if it’s a couple of bucks here and there. For the cab. The tip. The coat check. Parking. Tolls. Ticket broker fee. PAY! Just shut up and pay!

Money shouldn’t come between bros, but neither should being a dick
I know which of my bros are good for money when it comes to everything. Drinks, games, vacations, tables at the club etc. But now and then I have to let new bros in and really get to see what type of bro they are. If you commit to throwing in cash for something, ex. a table at the club or bottles at the club, then you fucking throw in. If you get drunk and leave or find a chick and leave, then you immediately contact the bro you stuck the entire bill with and let him know your ass will pay him ASAP. You committed. Man the fuck up. Don’t be a dick, bro.

He who sets up couple date night out pays the bill
Only do this with your really good buddies! The ones who never bring up money. You and your girl set up a night out with him and his lady. And you pay. Next time he pays. And so on. Together you can have one hell of a time. Don’t split the bill. Keep the rotation going with each bro taking turns. Grown man shit right therrr!

If you get into places a lot, free drinks a lot, game tickets a lot on one bro’s connections only? You are an asshole bro.
Case closed.

If you bring your girl along, then you pay double dude. WTF?!
Doesn’t matter the situation. This is no longer a 50/50 split. Your luggage bro. You pay to check it in. Capish?

If one pal does the driving with his car, you pay for the gas guy
A road trip. A casino run. A game. A business trip. Running illegal guns Sons of Anarchy style. Doesn’t matter. He drives his car, you pay his gas. If he passes on the offer, you buy an extra round or some shit. It’s simple.

Cheap bros are not real bros
They’re not. That bro who always lies about money. Is light on the bill. Never sends you the money in the mail. Throws your high salary in your face. Ducks out on his round. Forgets all the money you dropped on his bachelor party, wedding, kids shit etc. And never pays for what he agrees to pay? He is not your fucking bro. He is an acquaintance at best and treat his lying, piece of shit cheap ass accordingly. Call Bro Money Code on his ass from this day forward! Thank me later.

So there you have it. The toughest Bro Code chapter yet. But I had to put it out there for all the bros around the world who always thought this shit but could never put it into words. Well T just did guys! And like all Bro Code chapters, print this, save it and carry it with you at all times. Because you’ll need it. But more importantly, just respect it.

How do you feel about the sixth chapter in my Bro Code Series, the Bro Money Code? Is it missing a commandment? Let me know! I’m on Twitter and Facebook.

PS. This will be the last post like this. Next week I present the all-new, even more awesome t-blawg. 12/5/11. 104 straight Mondays of t-blawg. The party is just starting people!!! -T

Until next time. Always take it there.

T

Filed Under: Bro Code, Entertainment, Life, Money, Sports, t-blawg, Uncategorized, Women Tagged With: , , , , , , ,
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My “T’s Boston Hall of Fame Class of 2011” Post

November 7, 2011 By Leave a Comment

I'll induct myself one day. No really.

There are a few trademark featured series on t-blawg. There are my “T Does ‘Some City’ in 3 Paragraphs.” People seem to dig my takes on cities. Cool. There are also my signature “Valentine’s Day Sucks” & “Festivus” traditions that really get the crowd going. And of course  the mack daddy, daddy mack t-blawg trademark series “The Bro Code” baby! Well today I would like to add a new series to the always growing, always innovating original entertainment life blueprint known as t-blawg. It is something very close to my ice cold heart…Boston of course. Every year starting with this post I would like to honor some extra special people of Boston right here on t-blawg! These people have done something for Boston. Won something for Boston. Put on for Boston. Are proud of Boston!!! They are friggin’ Boston icons and they should be recognized and treated so. Like myself. So without further ado, I present my “T’s Boston Hall of Fame Class of 2011!”

Awesome Boston Athlete
Terry ‘Tito’ Francona

How the hell do I start off by inducting Tito over legendary Boston athletes like Bird, Orr, Brady or even coach Bill Belichick? Take it easy. Before the epic collapse of the Red Sox last season and all the garbage that has been spewed about the team and their coach, you have to remember one thing. This is the coach who broke ‘The Curse’ people! He coached a team of idiots all season long, from the brink of an 0-3 elimination against the Yankees, then swept the Cardinals 4-0 and won the first Red Sox World Series in 86 damn years! Then won another one 3 years later! He did the impossible. And for that, he goes in as my first athlete in the T Boston Hall. Thank you Tito.

Crazy Ass Underground Boston Celebrity
Tricycle Louie

What the fuck is a ‘Tricycle Louie’ you say?! Ok. Ever walk down Newbury or Boylston street and hear “Eh! Eh! Eh!” grow louder and louder as you walk? Then see a giant tricycle with flags on it flapping in the wind? Being driven by what looks like a blind toothless demon who just escaped from the depths of hell??? Well. That’s Tricycle Louie! He’s a god damn moving Boston landmark people! And a nice guy actually. He’s been riding that giant, rusty tricycle for years. And he’s saying “Move! Move! Move!” by the way because he doesn’t want to run your ass over. But he will. Louie is the first T Boston Hall Underground Celebrity for being that crazy yet awesome.

Ultimate Boston Hottie
Maria Menounos

I have shown my love for Maria many times on t-blawg. We go way back to when we were both non-famous kids working at Dunkin’ Donuts and shared a love for Kelly’s Roast Beef. She has since become more famous than me. But still puts on for Boston every chance she gets. This Greek Goddess is my first T Boston Hall Boston Hottie. End of hottie story. Call me Maria.

Epic Boston Team
The 2010 Boston Bruins

The 2010 Bruins go in before the 2001 Pats, before the ’04 Red Sox Idiots and before the ’08 Celtics because quite simply the Boston Bruins were the last of the losers. The last of the heart breaking Boston teams. They were untouched by the Pink Hatters. Their major fan base was straight loyal white trash. And the Bruins finally reached the pinnacle of Boston sports team awesomeness by winning the Stanley Cup and completing the Boston decade of sports dominance by all four of our teams. By doing that, they earned their first class ticket induction into the T Boston Hall of Fame Class of 2011!

Proud Boston Bro
Ben Affleck

I give Ben a lot of shit. Absolutely. From his old shitty acting. To Gigli. To the time I saw him at game 1 of the ’04 World Series with big ass J-Lo. To his famous ‘Ass Face’ chin. But that’s what bros do. Bust each other’s balls. But let it be known. No other famous person from Boston puts on for Boston more than Ben Motherfuckin’ Affleck! From being Chucky in ‘Good Will’ and co-writing it with Matt. To winning the damn Oscar for it. To directing the shit out of the filmed in Boston ‘Gone Baby, Gone.’ To directing and starring in the filmed in Boston and shooting the fuck out of Fenway Park ‘The Town!’ For bringing the underrated ‘Company Men’ here to Boston for filming. And now going to direct the “James ‘Whitey’ Bulger” movie here in Boston. He is Hollywood East! He is Boston entertainment! And that is why he goes in as my first Boston Bro! I hope he directs one of my scripts one day. A T script directed by Ben Affleck would end the fucking world from too much damn Boston awesomeness!!!

Ass Kicking Boston Movie
The Departed

This goes in over ‘Good Will Hunting’, ‘The Town’, ‘Mystic River’ and ‘Gone Baby, Gone’ because from top to bottom, this movie was stacked with pure fucking awesomeness that extended beyond Boston. This movie punched every other movie in the face when it came out and had all of Boston saying to the world “Say hi to your mother for me.” Boom. In the Hall first it goes.

Most Talked About Boston Weather Event in the History of History
Blizzard of ’78

We get our share of shitty weather. No doubt. But that’s how we roll around here. Most of us don’t complain. We just live with it. But now and then there comes a weather event that just plain fucks shit up. And no other weather event fucked shit up more than the “Blizzard of ‘78” because people still talk about this damn blizzard like it was an end of the world zombie apocalypse or some shit! And for that alone it goes in as the first Hall Boston Weather Event! Now please stop talking about it. No one died.

Most Famous Boston Family
The Kennedys

They are the United State’s version of royalty. No? They are the most famous and have achieved the most success and suffered the most loss and it all was covered every way possible by the news and historians over so many years. And they originated from my old neighborhood of East Boston and have been a Cape Cod staple for years. I can go on and on about JFK, Jackie, Bobby, Teddy, John Jr. etc. but the one Kennedy who stands out for me personally is Joe Kennedy. You see, Joe helped bring assisted home heating programs to Eastie when I was a kid. So he went around to all the schools and met all the mothers. My mother loved that Joe Kennedy for being such a nice, handsome and successful man. In some weird way, I looked at Joe as a normal father figure. So for his impact on my mother and youth, along with the rest of the Kennedys, they go in as the first Boston Family into my Boston Hall. They might be the only family ever. Unless I put in my crazy ass family one day.

In Your Face Boston Neighborhood
Eastie

Over the North End? Back Bay? Southie??? Hell fuckin’ yeah! It’s my old neighborhood. And if you think I have already told all there is to tell about Eastie, you are nuts. Those stories will be told on here or on the big screen one way or the other. Eastie is the real Boston neighborhood. It’s people know why. It goes into the Hall first.

Legendary Boston Legend
Paul Revere

Because Johnny Depp is making a movie about him. And he warned everybody that the British were coming. He is the only reason why you don’t talk with a British accent fool! Respect. So go walk ‘The Freedom Trail’ and pour some out in front of his statue. NOW! In the Boston T Hall of Fame Paul Revere goes.

There it is. My Boston Hall of Fame Class of 2011. Not your typical hall of fame right? But what did you expect? T ain’t typical. So why would my Boston Hall of Fame be? And neither will next year’s class!

What do you think of my class of 2011? Anyone you think should’ve went in before these awesome Boston people? Any recommendations for next year? Let me know! Tweet me!

Until next time. Always take it there.

T

Filed Under: Boston, Bro Code, Celebrity, Entertainment, Movies, Screenwriting, Sports, t-blawg, Titletown, TV, Uncategorized, Women Tagged With: , , , , , , , , , ,
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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 “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 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 “Titletown” Post

June 20, 2011 By 4 Comments

You served me well my playoff beard

Let’s just start this t-blawg post like this. 10 years. 4 teams. 1 city. 7 championships.

That’s right. Boston is “Titletown” and nobody else can claim that. I can turn this post into one hell of a bragging rights session about Boston’s sports dominance because let’s face it. Nobody can talk Boston better than me. But I’m not going to do that. Not today anyways. Instead I am going to write about why the nickname “Titletown” is more than just about the championships and bragging rights for my city. I would like to direct you to the pic just above. Oh snap. Is that Milan Lucic?! No. It’s not. It’s me. Rocking my “#24 Terry O’Reilly” Bruins hat and my Bruins playoff beard. That’s right. A full length playoff beard and my favorite Bruins player as a kid. That’s how far back I go. That’s how loyal I am. That’s Boston. Pure, loyal, hard-working, fighting, earning every inch and every win, Boston. And the Boston Bruins recent Stanley Cup championship has shown that. Just like how I showed my loyalty every day during their playoff run by going months without shaving. To show my dedication to my team. To my city. The Boston Bruins were the last of the “No championship winning. Boston sports teams suck. Wait ‘til next year.” teams. We waited. We fought. We stayed loyal. All of us. And yes I use the term “we” when describing my teams. My city. Its people. My people. Why? Because that’s “Titletown”. That’s Boston.

As a little kid I wore my Easter basket on my head and took slap shots of foil puck balls off of my grandfather as he played goalie with his slipper. We were the Black and Gold. Not the Black and Yellow for all you come lately bandwagon pink hatters! My old Italian Papa and I were the Bruins and they never won The Cup when my grandfather and I had our time together before he passed away. This Stanley Cup win was for him. For me. For Boston. Just like the Pats did it for us. Just like the Sox did it for us. And the same as the Celtics. The teams represent the people. Our heart. Our class. Our love. Our loyalty. Our sports teams just give us the spotlight we need to shine every now and then. But it’s always there. Always was. Always will be. The 2010-2011 Boston Bruins were the last of the losers in other cities’ eyes. But never in the eyes of Boston. The Cup just made it official. We all knew we would win it. Eventually. It’s not optimism. It’s just how we are. We are confident enough to know we will win and never falter when the naysayers say we can’t. We won’t. Because Boston will win. Just like me. Just like everybody else with Boston blood in their veins.

History shows all the great battles that took place in Boston. All the wars fought. All the blood spilled. And I’m not talking about sports now. I’m talking about Paul Revere. The Revolutionary War. The Boston Massacre. This city has been fighting, kicking ass and winning way before it had any sports teams. It’s people are a part of history. Hell, even the Kennedys come from my old loyal & tough as nails neighborhood of Eastie! We’ve always fought here. Still do. We’ve always strived to be the best. We work at it. You see it. You hear it in “The Accent”. You see it in our ever-growing popular Oscar-winning Boston-based movies. And you now know it from the 10 years of complete and total sports dominance. Boston was always “Titletown”. Will always be “Titletown”. Whether our sports teams are putting trophies in cases or not. We know we’re “Titletown”. We know nobody else can make that claim. And now you all know it too. Boston….what?!

Until next time. Always take it there.

T

Filed Under: Awesomeness, Blog, Boston, Bro Code, Comedy, Crazy, Different, Edgy, Entertainment, Exciting, Facebook, Family, Funny, Humor, Interesting, Life, Movies, Opinionated, Social Media, Sports, t-blawg, Titletown, TV, Twitter, Uncategorized, Writing Tagged With: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,
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My “T-isms-Things Only T Says” Post

June 6, 2011 By 5 Comments

This whole damn blog is a t-ism! Keep stealing from it and...I won't sue. I will cut you.

Some people say I have a way with words. And I’m not just talking about my writing. I’m talking about my talking. My passion. My habits. My originality! I’m Italian. I love to talk. I’m from Boston. I have an opinion. And I say things a certain way. You remember this post? But I also have sayings. Things I say all the time. If you hang out with me for a night you would hear a lot of things you’ve never heard before come out of my mouth. Mostly original. Some familiar but with a T twist to them. Here are some of my long running and popular sayings. Which I dubbed “T-isms”.

I will cut you.-One of my favorites. Not used as often these days.
When somebody pisses me off I often find myself saying this to the person. Or to my buddies who have to calm me down. Because when I start talking about cutting somebody, somebody just might get cut. And I don’t even have a knife on me! That’s the funny part. It’s a representation really. Of what I might do. Because my closest people know I’m capable of almost anything! So at this point in the night, if somebody is pissing me off and I’m talking about cutting somebody, STOP GIVING ME SHOTS!!!

I said/wrote that. Steal it and I’ll sue.-Used way too often!
The things I say. The things I write. I talk. I text. I tweet. I facebook update. All original T copyrighted material. And SOOO many people rip off my shit without giving me credit. All the damn time. I constantly hear people using my jokes. Telling my stories as if they are their own. Saying my sayings. Using my facebook updates as their fucking own! I don’t mind people using my material. But quote the original source fucker! And that’s T!!! So sometimes I have to write or say “I said/wrote that. Steal it and I’ll sue.” after I put something out there just to let people know. Fucking crooks.

Slampig.-I avoid them now. But they’re still out there! Lurking.
I did not create this. I don’t know who did. Or when. All I know is, this word has been around East Boston for generations. Since it was Noddles Island I think. It describes a dirty chick who banged a bunch of dudes but is still hot looking and easily bangable. She’s a slampig. Used it all the time as a kid and teenager. Everybody from Eastie did. As an adult. With an education. With a good career. With a business. With nice things. I still use it. I brought it into my adult awesome Boston biz life vernacular. And I introduced it to a new group of friends and biz contacts. A new audience. A new world. And I’m damn proud of it.

My spots.-Almost every time I talk about some place I’ve been to more than once.
I frequent many bars, clubs, lounges, restaurants, gyms, movie theaters, businesses….whatever. Wherever I go, often, that place is my spot. I call it my spot. It’s my spot. Not your spot. My spot. Get your own damn spots. Just not my spots. Ok? Good. And once you have a spot of your own, don’t call it your damn spot either. Call it your joint. Or your place. Or your stripe. I don’t give a fuck what you call it! Just don’t use “my spot”. I will cut you.

Stop it.-Too often! Too many people talking about nonsense.
In the middle of a conversation if I start to realize you are making no sense or you are a complete fucking idiot, I will calmly close my eyes, wave my hand and say “Stop it.” And that’s it. Nothing else. Conversation over. Stop talking now.

Eye fucking the shit out of me.-Every time I’m drinking. Doesn’t matter. Every time.
Yes this is from the great comedy classic “Wedding Crashers”. But ever since this great quotable movie came out in 2005, I have embraced this one quote in particular. So much so that 99 out of 100 times when I’m out drinking with my boys you will hear it come out of my mouth even if a chick looked at me for a millisecond. Yep. I don’t care. If you’re a hot chick and you look my way then you are absolutely eye fucking the shit out of me. Seriously. I don’t care if Brad Pitt is standing next to me. I don’t care if your favorite shitty episode of Sex and the City is on the tv behind me. You look, then you’re eye fucking me! Period. For some reason though, fewer girls eye fuck the shit out of me when I’m sober. Weird.

Pun intended.-Mostly when I’m doing anything t-blawg related.
I pride myself on puns. On one liners. On sexual innuendo. On making people laugh. Whether you’re laughing at me or with me, if I like you, then that makes me happy. Sometimes I have to reiterate myself by saying pun intended. It’s the opposite of those people who always feel compelled to say “no pun intended”. That shit is weird! And stupid. All my puns are intended. As they should be.

“This” (Ex. “This chick was like….” “This dude right here….”. “This asshole said…” “This ‘anything really’”)-Ever since I was able to tell a story. Since I was 2 years-old I guess?!
When I’m telling a story to someone I always use “this” a lot to help. It adds to the effect. Between my energy, the accent and crazy Italian arms flailing like a maniac, it makes for a great show. For example, this is a story you might hear me tell. “I was out the other night with this chick right? I mean this chick was hot. And interesting. For a change right? We were having a good time until this douchebag bartender spills a drink across the bar onto her dress. This girl goes fucking nuts! She starts talking  about how this dress she was wearing cost her like $500. So I say ‘This shit didn’t cost you no $500! Stop it.’” Night over.

Trimming The Fat.-I still trim. But not as much. Thankfully.
I coined this last year when I cleaned out my life. I got rid of every negative person. Every pain in the ass drama causing chick. Cut off every friend and family member who did not contribute to my life in any way when times were tough. I trimmed the fat. And I now say that every time I want to get something or someone out of my life that is not on the T bandwagon. That’s what that is all about baby!

;) -At least every fifth text! Every single text to a hot chick. Fo’ reals.
I don’t do LOL. I don’t do I heart you. I don’t do I miss your face. I’m a man. A straight man. I do this ;) . That’s what T says and texts you. That’s how I’m nice. How I flirt. This ;) is my thing. That’s what you get from T.

I Put the F-U in FUN.-I put it in. Wait…what?
Come onnnnn! Who else would say something like this but me?! Doesn’t sound right if anyone else says it.

Holla!!!-Probably like 6-7 times a week. That’s a good guestimate.
When I’m in a good mood, I’ll yell out “Holla!!!”. I’ll even write “Holla!!!” at the end of a great text. Or a positive facebook update. Or a tweet. I don’t know why. I just do. Been doing it for years. It means I’m in a good mood. Don’t fuck with my good mood. Holla!!!

Nicknames. I give everybody nicknames.-I find myself giving people nicknames out loud. And in my head. It’s scary.
Growing up everybody had a nickname. Sometimes they made sense. Sometimes they didn’t. Sometimes you liked them. Sometimes you didn’t. As a grown man in his 30s, I still give everybody a nickname. Friends, chicks, co-workers, strangers, biz contacts….it doesn’t matter. I give people nicknames. I don’t care if you don’t like it. I will call you that nickname whenever the hell I want. And the more you fight your nickname of “Assholeface”, the more I am going to call you “Assholeface”! Out in public. Around hot chicks. At the gym. During a conference call. At Christmas dinner in front of your grandmother. Ok Assholeface?!

So there you have some of my long running sayings. T-isms. Those who know me well, know all of these T-isms. Those who don’t, hang out with me sometime. We’ll go to one of my spots. You’ll get to know them all pretty well too. Then I’ll give you a nickname. If you don’t like it? Stop it. Pun intended. This slampig right here is eye fucking the shit out of me. Holla!!! ;)

Do you have isms??? What do you say or do that nobody else does? That is entertaining? That are constantly taken from your own awesomeness?! Share here. Or on The Twitter. Or on The Facebook.

Until next time. Always take it there.

T

Filed Under: Alcohol, Awesomeness, Blog, Boston, Bro Code, Business, Celebrity, Comedy, Crazy, Dating, Different, Edgy, Entertainment, Exciting, Facebook, Funny, Humor, Interesting, Life, Movies, Music, Opinionated, Party, Sex, Social Media, Sports, t-blawg, TV, Twitter, Uncategorized, Women, Writing Tagged With: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,
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My “Boston Lucky 13 List” Post

May 16, 2011 By 6 Comments

Best of both worlds

So many people from Boston will tell you how great Boston is. And you know what? I’m one of them. You’d be hard pressed to find somebody who puts on for Boston more than me! You’ve been reading this blog right?! Remember posts like this? Or this?! And let’s not forget about the most famous and important blog post in blogging history (Look at that tweet count yo!) Everyday on Twitter and Facebook I put on for Boston. In my real life I put on for Boston. All my friends and family know I’m the go to Boston guy. I know what’s going on. I’m at the big games. I can get us into the hot spots. I know the people you need to know. I’m on the movie sets. At the big events. Out of town friends ask me about Boston all the time. Where to go. What to do. That’s me. That’s T. I’ve always been that guy. Always will be that guy. And I love it. I love Boston. I’m married to the city. My longest commitment. I’m not one to ever complain about her. Never threaten to leave her. Never leave her and then come back again like so many people do to her. Never love her from afar. I’m here. Living and loving Boston! Since birth. Until the day I leave this Earth. I’m more than a Sox hat. So. Some readers and friends have asked me for a while to write about the top things I love about Boston. That’s crazy! There’s so much! Where do I even begin?! So, I started a list. And this post came to be. I decided to do 13. Lucky number 13. I wanted to avoid the gimmicky tourist stuff. And the most common things that make usual obvious Boston lists. But there are so many things I love about Boston. So I just tried my best to make a list that covers all bases. All of T’s bases really. There is no way I can pick and list everything. So I picked 13 things I love about my city. And why. Here they are.

13. The Accent
The accent is our trademark. There is no other accent in the world like it. It’s either the greatest thing to bless your ears or the worst thing you have ever heard. Fact. And not one Boston-based movie has yet to really capture the accent. Come talk to me if you want authenticity. The accent will either capture your heart or make you want to punch me in my face. I’ll take either one.

12. Commonwealth Avenue Mall
The Comm Ave Mall isn’t a building with stores and a food court. No. It’s a string of little parks in the middle of Comm Ave that run the length of the neighborhood of Back Bay. Start at Mass Ave. and work your way down to the Public Gardens. 8 city blocks! It’s a thing of beauty. I’ve spent many mornings running it. Ran into Tom & Giselle. Tom Cruise and Katie Holmes. Saw Mel Gibson shoot a scene. Walked by Bruce Willis drinking coffee. Saw Obama drive by. Watched protesters march. Even saw bloody zombies crawl through once. Strolled through with beautiful women. Including one of my closest Bullpen ladies. We used to talk about life. And I’ve walked through with some beautiful little ladies, my nieces. Where we looked for ninjas and sang about our galoshes. Yes. Wait for that future Uncle T post! Anyways. Walk the Comm Ave Mall! Take in everything around you. Trust me here. T kids you not. It’s Boston at its best.

11. The Charles
The Charles is…well, the Charles. The Esplanade. The Hatch Shell. The River. The sailboats. The fireworks. The parks. The joggers. The bike riders. The view. The duck boats. The skyline. The sun rises. The smell. The sounds. Storrow Drive. The foot bridges. The people. The…Charles.

10. The History
Boston is one of the oldest cities in the world. A lot of events have played out in Boston throughout history. This isn’t a history class. This is t-blawg. But walk around the city. You’ll learn something every single place you go in Boston. I promise. I’m not just talking about the sights. I’m talking about the people. Walk through the North End and chat up an old-timer sitting outside on a bench. You’ll learn things that cannot be unlearned.

9. Museum of Science
I was a kid who paid attention on field trips. I loved learning. I loved being smart. I loved having fun. Still do. This is the best place to go for that. This is my Disney. In my backyard. I take my nieces here all the time as a cover story really. Because I really want to go more than them. I love the dinosaur. I love the electricity room. I love looking for the queen bee in the bee thing. I love the musical steps. This is one of my all time favorite places.

8. Downtown Crossing
Not the greatest part of Boston. It used to have a bad rap because of “The Combat Zone.” Which was full of crime during the 60s & 70s. But as a kid who grew up in the 80s & 90s, this was the part of Boston that people took the train into Boston to go shopping. The big Boston stores were here. Not so much now. But I remember taking the train in with my mother, grandmother, aunt and cousins. I walk through Downtown Crossing all the time, now that I live right in Boston. I think of those times when I was a kid every single time. It’s a time that is long gone, but great memories. This is old school dirty Boston.

7. The People
What can I say? We’re loyal. Honest. Hard working. Funny. Fast paced. Loud. Opinionated. Full of attitude. And look better from the inside looking out then to outsiders looking in. And we like it that way. No better people on the planet. You better believe that.

6. Whiskey’s on Sundays
Tons of places to drink in Boston. Tons of places to get cheap eats. Tons of places to watch the game. No place is better than Whiskey’s on Boylston St. on a cold Sunday afternoon during Pats season. No place. And I also used to get my drinks from Playboy’s Cyber Girl of Year! There’s always lots of smiles and high fives going around in this place. Boston pride baby.

5. Patriot’s Day/Marathon Monday
Patriot’s Day is Boston’s own private holiday. It’s also my favorite day of the year! Along with my birthday. On Patriot’s Day (not our football team by the way) you wake up early, get your day drinking going, go to the morning Sox game, watch the marathon in the early afternoon, do some midday house partying and bar hop into the night. Everybody is off from work. Everybody has a good time. It’s Boston at it’s best!

4. The Pru (The Prudential Building)
The Pru is a tourist attraction. Absolutely. But to me, when I’m out of town and I return back to Boston and get a glimpse of it either from a distance or up close, from an airplane or from the ground, I know one thing. I know I’m home. And I swear to you, that beautiful building is lit up and smiling at me every time.

3. Both Sides of Boston Harbor
I grew up in East Boston. Growing up in Eastie there weren’t too many beautiful things to see. It was a rough neighborhood and you got to watch and listen to airplanes come and go to and from better places. When I was about 9 years old the city of Boston built a harbor walk at the end of Eastie at the harbor. I used to walk it with my mother, aunt and cousins. When I got older, I used to rollerblade it with my cousin. At the end of the walk, you could see Boston. It was the most beautiful thing to see. Years later while working in Boston, I found myself walking behind the Aquarium and stumbled upon a giant compass painted on the ground. It was the Boston Compass Rose. It was at the end of the harbor. I looked across and could see East Boston. I could see exactly where I used to look from the other side. It is now the most beautiful thing to see.

2. Fenway Park
I’ve written about Fenway so many times in this blog. Fenway is Boston. Enough said.

1. East Boston
Really?! Eastie??? Number 1?! YES. It’s the part of the city that created me. My hood. For better or worse, Eastie will always be my home. As a grown man I can now appreciate the old, broken down Boston neighborhood that raised me. There’s some good people in that neighborhood. Some got out. Some still there. For you outsiders, it’s more than just Logan airport. More than a pizza place. More than a bad area to avoid. So much more. I’ll tell those Eastie stories one day. Until then, Eastie is and will always be #1 on my Boston list.

What does T love about Boston? Everything. Now you know at least 13 reasons why.

What do you love about Boston? Do you agree with this list? What else would you like for me to blog about when it comes to my great city of Boston? Reply here on the site or on Facebook or Tweet me. I’ll answer. Because I always have something to say!

Until next time. Always take it there.

T

Filed Under: Alcohol, Awesomeness, Blog, Boston, Celebrity, Children, Comedy, Crazy, Different, Edgy, Entertainment, Exciting, Facebook, Family, Funny, Holiday, Humor, Interesting, Life, Movies, Opinionated, Party, Social Media, Sports, t-blawg, travel, TV, Twitter, Uncategorized, Women, Work, Writing Tagged With: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,
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My “Bro Strip Club Code” Post

May 2, 2011 By 4 Comments

Jessie Spano's speed addiction was supported by her stripping

First I gave you the rules of “The Bro Code”. Then I gave the world “The Bro Dress Code”. Now it’s time for the “Bro Strip Club Code”. The series continues!!! I don’t go to the strip club often. Usually only on a casino run, a bachelor party tear, a sports weekend getaway and of course Vegas. But last Winter I went on a tear with an old buddy. He was banging half the girls at a local strip club. He knew everybody there. We got comped. We got drunk. We had fun. We went way too damn much! And from this I noticed what really went down in a strip club for the first time ever. The ways of the strip club. The stereotypes. The types of strippers, workers and dudes that come in. That gave me some great insight. Through all that I created the “Bro Strip Club Code”!!! Here it is! Drum roll please…..

Strippers don’t get drunk so save your money man
Don’t buy them drinks! When she’s working you and you offer to get her a drink, the waitress brings her a “rum & coke” minus the rum. Really. Save your money for the lap dance.

Some strippers will bang for money so pay a lot and use a rubber dude
It depends on 3 things. The strip club, the stripper and how much you’re willing to pay. I have buddies who have done it. I don’t pay for sex so I can’t speak from experience. But it can be done. Just feel it out bro. And good luck with that STD. Because if she did it for you, you’re an idiot if you think she hasn’t done it before.

Strippers will break the rules for money depending on the strip club
In Boston we have a “no contact” lap dance rule. It sucks. But if you’re willing to pay and get out of sight, shit can happen. Again, bust out the chedda.

Strippers rather dance for good-looking dudes even though ugly dudes are willing to pay more
This is a fact. Go into a strip club with your ugly buddy, your fat buddy and your weird buddy. Just make sure you’re the good-looking one for fuck’s sake. Get a table. Watch who the strippers come to most. You’ll have your pick dude!

It’s creepy but you feel more with sweatpants if you have the balls to wear them
My buddy taught me this. I listened once and put on sweatpants at a strip club in Canada. After years of getting lap dances wearing jeans or suit pants, this was an experience. Try it at least once. Just be ready to be the creepy strip club dude that night. Really.

Only suckers sit at the pit
Don’t waste your time or singles. Let the drunk married businessmen, the foreigners visiting and the broke ass dudes drop money at the pit. You can get her once she’s done with her main stage dance and starts to work the floor. Be smart.

Don’t hit on the strippers, they’re working idiot
Seriously?! Are you still hitting on strippers?! Remember why you are there! She’s not some chick at a bar looking to meet a guy. She’s a chick trying to take all your money. Smarten up bro.

No she really isn’t digging you guy
It’s an act. She’s doing her job. DO NOT fall in love with the strippers. I don’t care how good-looking you are. How rich you are. And what she said to you. She ain’t digging you! Time to go.

The young ones are your best bets at some good action
They really are. They’re new. They don’t know the rules yet. They’re inexperienced at dealing with customers. Find a young one that almost fell like 5 times off the pole. Talk money with her. Go have fun.

No she isn’t really doing this to get through college; put her kid through school; or while working on getting her real estate license you dope
Fuck everything she said to you. Actually, try not talking during the lap dance. She knows why you’re there. Just get your jollies off. Don’t ask questions. Don’t tell her about yourself. Have fun. That’s it!

Honey isn’t her real name. Neither is Mary once she tells you it is
Don’t ask her what her real name is. She’ll never tell you. And honestly, why do you give a fuck?

Yes she will do more if you bring a chick in with you. A hot chick. And to her. Not you
I’ve done this. I’ve seen it. A bunch of times. Strippers are usually bi-sexual or completely lesbian. They love other hot chicks. Bring a hot chick with you and pay. Watch what happens. Thank me later.

The waitresses and massage girls are always hotter than the actual strippers
This is a damn bro fact! Every single time. Let them get you worked up and try to find a stripper that looks like one of them. Enjoy!!!

You are a douche when you ball up bills and throw them at the talent
They’re strippers yes. But they’re still women. And who the fuck are you to judge them and treat them like shit?! So don’t throw money at them like you’re pitching in the World Series. You’re a clown and deserve to get punched in your neck if you do this.

Nobody likes the stripper hog gang
The guy or group of guys who hog all the strippers are assholes. Hey assholes. Stop talking. Stop buying them drinks. Stop hitting on them. Because this is the #1 cause of brawls in the strip club. It pisses dudes off. We’re all there for the same reason. To have fun. So keep things moving. Don’t hog the fucking strippers!

What if a chick you know outside the strip club turns out to be a stripper?
This has happened to me before. More than once. And recently too. It’s awkward as hell! Just play it off like it ain’t no thang. If you’ve already seen her naked? Cool. Nothing new. If you haven’t? Well. Now’s your chance bro.

So there you have it. The “Bro Strip Club Code”. Now you know how to act and know what to do the next time you hit up the strip club. Respect the Bro Code. Respect the stripper. And respect your penis. Now go have some fun!

Until next time. Always take it there.

T

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