At some point in a single guy’s life he just stops with the craziness. Now I’m not saying he can’t be crazy or be capable of doing crazy things from this point on but the whole “I’m a single guy so I can and will do some crazy, nasty ass shit” does stop. That moment came for me at the close of Memorial Day weekend 2009. It wasn’t planned. It wasn’t even some sort of huge catastrophe that ended my wild run. It wasn’t even a life changing epiphany. It was just the end. It was the end of Nasty T. That crazy side of me who did all that crazy, nasty ass shit that guys do. Every guy has a Nasty T in them. Trust me. Some worse than others. Some deny it. Some embrace it. Whatever. Either way my Nasty T era came to an unofficial close at the end of that weekend. For me it was the end of debauchery. Cue the flashback think bubble!
I moved into downtown Boston one year earlier. I went on an epic tear of debauchery. My place was called “The Boss Condo” and it was the epicenter of awesomeness! I was out 4-5 nights a week. My buddies would pre-game here but T was the only one allowed to do the post gaming at “The Boss Condo” if you know what I mean. We hit up every damn spot in Boston. Hey it was fun. But I was on a mission at the time! I went after all types of chicks like the fucking Terminator and they were all Sarah Connor! Young chicks! Old chicks! Married chicks! Models! Bartenders! Waitresses! Dancers! Sisters! Brazilian yoga enthusiasts who get deported! Wannabe actresses who did gross shit in your kitchen sink! Sisters who take pics of you with their sisters bumping uglies! Crazy acid dropping hottie neighbors who bang on your door at 3AM on Tuesdays with their equally high hottie friends and spill wine on your expensive coffee table! RESPECT THE WOOD BITCH! Wait…where was I? So sure enough “The Boss Condo” became and smelled like a damn brothel. Told you. Nasty T yo! Then I met this one young ass model chick, while there was nothing special about her, she just threw me for a loop. She was the door stopper that my life needed. After we hooked up she had her mother pick her up at my place and I had to meet her. That shit was weird! Then I met this married chick from out of town and hooked up with her the entire weekend to the point where she wanted to leave her husband and move in with me! I told her she had to go. That shit was weirder! Then my buddy had two chicks at the bar and one starts making out with me immediately after the married chick left. That wasn’t so weird but I was still all like “What the fuck?!” My head started to spin. I lost it. I couldn’t take it anymore. My lifestyle finally caught up to me.
I went back to “The Boss Condo” and looked up at my 20 foot ceilings. Some people say they were more like 13 foot ceilings but I still say fuck that, them shits were 20 foot ceilings assholes! I just sat back and looked up for like an hour. Cleaned the entire “Boss Condo.” Burned some sheets. Burned some clothes. Created my famous “Do Not Call/Text” list in my phone. Knocked on my neighbor’s door and told her no more. Plus her out of state fiancé was a cool dude. This was the last time I ever messed around with a married chick; a chick I worked with; a neighbor; played head & sex power games with a young chick; and it was the last time I was just a side dick to a chick in a relationship. It all ended. Just like that. Nasty T unofficially had been retired. Buried in the desert. Sure I have since had the occasional relapse. I’m only fucking human people. But now I’m aware of when I’m being nasty. I can see the debauchery coming a mile away. Look. I urge every single guy out there to embrace their nasty side. Go on a run. Mine was an epic year long run. But when it’s over, it’s over. Maybe start an entertainment site after that run and share your shit with a world full of strangers like I did. Sure it wouldn’t be as awesome as T-blawg but I guarantee it’s cheaper than therapy!
Until next time. Always take it there.
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