I have decided to do “spin-off” T-pisodes of my world-famous Bro Code chapters. I will use these spin-offs to give direct advice to the lesser men out there in the real world who are clearly stumbling on their own and need help from successful, mature, grown ass men such as myself. Because they’re starting to piss me off. PS…these won’t be nice.
Social media is one hell of a drug isn’t it? I mean where else in the world can you “recreate” yourself, give yourself a fake identity and say whatever you like without almost any repercussion? You can basically lie your ass off and totally convince a world of strangers, including women, on any social media platform that you are one amazing guy. Right? WRONG. That is by far one of the fucking most pathetic things you could ever do as a man and it’s time ol’ T over here calls all your asses out for your own damn good. For the good of better men. For the good of so many naïve women. And for my own good before I unleash the beast on all of you on your own shit and publicly embarrass the fuck out of you.
Look, I get it. Some of you have zero real life game. Some of you have no personality. Some of you have no character. Some of you make very little money. Some of you NEED social media to “meet” women. I get it. I know real life losers so of course I can easily spot the pretenders on Twitter. On Facebook. On Instagram. Not even acknowledging SnapChat because that shit is for teenagers. Stop it. The term all the kids use today is “thirsty” right? There are some thirsty dudes…the thirst is real…right? Ok. You’re thirsty. You’re thirsty enough to be that guy on Twitter who follows local pretty girls, club bottle girls, bartenders, wannabe models, real life models, pornstars. Your timeline is one tweet to one girl followed by another to a different girl then another to some other girl as you desperately try to make something happen. Maybe a #wcw in between. Maybe a retweet from one of your fellow poser boys. You Instagram selfies. You do it in the bathroom. You love to do it in your car. You do the kissy face like some fucking little teenage girl. You Instagram yourself on the end of the bench looking in the mirror flexing but acting like you’re not flexing at the gym. Hoping that you get a “like” from some chick and in your fucked up head you think she’s into you and use that “like” as validation for contacting her. You’re so delusional dude. Now go like all of her pics, because that’s how you get grown ass women, stupid. Be sure to comment “Wen we chilen’ ma?” too. They love that shit. You Instagram that same empty Ace of Spades bottle from the club that you begged a promoter to give to you at the end of the night 3 weeks ago but now you place it on your piece of shit coffee table or when you’re eating breakfast your mom cooked for you. The fuck? But I’ve never seen you in any hotspots in town son!!! Who are you again?! I’ve never seen you eating steak at that restaurant you “checked in” and took a #foodporn pic of neither. You have over 70,000 tweets…you ain’t got no job brah! And if you’re out living this balla’ life, why are you staying in and tweeting so many girls on a Saturday night? That watch is fake too. So isn’t that chain. The car isn’t yours either. Your suit and shoes cost $70 combined. The suit isn’t fitting you right either bro. See a tailor. You’re still in your childhood bedroom at home because I see your mother’s framed family pics in your pics’ backgrounds. Clown. Dudes who live on their own don’t have that shit. You also have two Facebook accounts? Why? Oh yeah, to keep one for your ratchet girlfriend to see and the other account with a slightly changed name so you can meet other girls online. Pathetic. Your son looks hungry bro. Either pay that child support or get him a burger instead of putting up a pic of your “fresh” haircut. Why look fresh? So you can wait in line and never get into the club because no matter how tight your sneaker game is your ass needs shoes to get in?! Come on. Stop trying to DM girls who are in relationships too. Who never met you in real life. You don’t know what it takes to make her smile because you’ve never seen that smile in person. Only through “likes” on her social media. You’re soft. You spit game in 140 characters but couldn’t walk up to a woman and introduce yourself and tell her your name; what you do for a living; where you live; ask her questions; make her laugh in an actual face to face conversation…because you’re just another thirsty social media pretender and you live a make-believe life on the fucking internet. You are nothing more. Game over…T just fucking buried you all.
Real men have social media accounts too. I sure do. I know how to flirt and be polite and compliment on there as well. But I show no thirst. Because I get my water in the real world. And I can drink from many wells if I chose to. Why does this bother me so much? Because I have no respect for dudes that live lies, whether in real life or on social media. It’s an insult to me and everything I am. It’s also more insulting when people actually believe their bullshit lies and fake lives. Dude, your words are someone else’s. Your pics are filtered with mirages. Your DMs are so dry and scream loser. Enough. You’ve been exposed. Make changes. Be better men. And ladies who buy into this nonsense, stop it. Now you see the truth. Now you can start the unfriending and unfollowing. Want more for yourselves ladies. Don’t entertain these clowns. Fellas, I’m pulling back on social media so it’s up to all of you to call these pretenders to our thrones out. Remember, real men work for the truth they don’t hustle lies.
Until next time. Always take it there.