T-pisode 323: Return To Grown Man Shit

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Fuck yo cigar collection! LOLzzz.
Fuck yo cigar collection! LOLzzz.


Fellas, you ever feel like you’re off a step? Like, suddenly you wake up one day and somehow you start putting this math together in your head and realize that you’ve been so caught up in your life, been so damn busy, that your swagger done lost that pep? Yeah, you have. It happens to the best of us. It happened to me recently. Without even knowing it, I fell off my “Grown Man Shit.” And now it’s back. Now I’m back.

Grown Man Shit… The T-blawg anthem. The T motto. MY fucking creation. I always practiced it and I always preached it. Then I fell off. Without laying it all out here today, believe me I will in future T-pisodes, one by fucking one…I have been off my “Grown Man Shit.” I woke up recently, like really WOKE up and gave myself a “Rocky styled” eye to eye in my bathroom mirror and was all like “T, the fuck happened to you?” Every once in a while you have to remind yourself who you are fellas. Below the surface. Below the day-to-day. And take a look at what makes you a real man. Remember why you got balls. Testosterone. A hairy chest. Why your voice is deep and how it booms when you need it to. Why you can kill a bottle of whiskey in one sitting. Because we’re fucking men. And the kind of men on their “Grown Man Shit” deserve that respect. I’m not defining it here again today. I’ve already done that. You should know what it is by coming here every Monday even on holidays. Just remember this, distractions and people, women and things that are not worth your valuable time or attention will occasionally knock you off your “Grown Man Shit.” Just make sure it’s temporary and find your way back. ALWAYS find your way back. YOU know what you bring to the table and make sure you DO NOT let anyone else at that table that does not deserve to sit there. To eat there. To feed off you. To hear your knowledge. To even fucking slightly bask in the glory of your damn masculine presence, son!!! The cream of the crop does not need to entertain anyone or anything not worthy of his time. Be a king of kings. Wear that crown and sit on your earned fucking throne. You are a conqueror. You are a leader. You are your own man. And “Grown Man Shit” is the top-level boys and make sure you stay there once you have earned it.

The next series of T-pisodes are going to be a little vintage T mixed in with some new T shit. I got my swagger back. The money knots are thick. The muscles are swole. The ink from the tats is dry. The passport has fewer pages to be stamped. The all black whip goes a buck sixty, swiftly. The beard is more than epic. The texts are ignored. The numbers are blocked. The little girls had their fun and the real beautiful & intelligent ladies are still wined, dined and smiling wide. The clock has been restarted. I can’t fuck with anyone or anything less than that, baby. Humble people who need to be humbled fellas. Put your chest out, chin up and walk with an incomparable confidence that cannot be fucked with. Because it’s back to “Grown Man Shit” around here.


Until next time. Always take it there.