Las Vegas in May

» 23 March 2010 » In Girls, Guest Manifesto, Nightlife, Travel »

Guest Manifesto: Las Vegas in May

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It’s Middle of May and it is 105 degrees in the shade. I wake up wrapped in 1500 thread count sheets and a 5’10 dancer, a nice southern girl, of course. Went a bit too far last night, but damn, what does it even matter. You know I went out suited up and ran the strip from one end to the other. When I’m stepping out of the club with the hottest girl that was there on the way back to my room at the Bellagio, I see you looking. I’m in Vegas and I feel like Tony right after he gets back to his crib… “I gotta get organized”. Montana, not Soprano, minus the blow (for the most part). The suites at Bellagio, Caesars, and Wynn are so huge you can have a 12 person after party without the slightest bit of problem. The suites are equipped with elite furniture that is usually littered with those fly LA girls that I met last night, other bodies, Rose champagne bottles, some other girls tall ass Cavalli shoes, underwear, room service, and other products of a successful sunrise party. I never throw after-parties in my room though; the last time resulted in ejection from a 5-star in Atlanta at 6 in the morning. That’s how I do things.

Anyways, from my perspective, your body begins to shut down by your fourth day out here. You’ve got to pace yourself. I start every morning by sweating out the toxins, i.e. whatever vices I consumed the night before with a 30-45 minute workout at the hotel gym, and I make no excuses. The gym is always the most luxurious I have ever frequented and full of fly models and foreign girls; I really see no problem. There are attendants that bring me water replenishment, which is another key to defeating whatever hit me about the time I walked out of the Spearmint Rhino after strippers had been sweating me all night. And I wouldn’t pay them any attention, they hate that. If they are going to hustle someone for money they really wish it would be me instead of your lameass group of you and your bro friends. Maybe next time I tell them. They still love me. Las Vegas. This place is so electrifying…so sense-heightening…and so fucking addictive.

I always stock up on cloves/cigars before I get into town and everything else I need is always provided for me. I just hit my girl up at the Mirage and she sends me whatever I need (don’t even think I’ll reveal how I got that connect.) I always grab hotel matches and keep them sparking – everyone either uses these or diamond encrusted Dunhill lighters anytime they need heat. Another thing to remember is there is no concept of time here. I watch the sun come up and watch it go down here but that is about as good as it gets for time perception. There are no clocks anywhere and everyday is mine for the taking. I ride in limos and walk a lot and of course my shoes are comfortable because only cheap shoes hurt your feet. The only thought on my mind after walking back from the club right before sunrise is how good the cigar I had with me was going to be and how good the girl I took’s ass looks as I follow her down Las Vegas Blvd.

You wouldn’t even believe the dayclub pool parties here. You probably can’t get in either. The best dayclubs are at Caesar’s, Mirage, and Venetian. You shouldn’t bother with any of the rest of them unless you like a bunch of frat boys with tribal tattoos and Ed Hardy shirts and Oklahoma prom queens with fake purses that think they are a lot hotter than they really are. The girls at my spots have been in movies, magazines, and have a public image to keep up so when they let go partying they don’t want a bunch of nobody’s around that will gossip to their friends and tabloids like a bunch of Midwestern farm hicks that have never tasted the life. The dudes here pull out baseball size wads of money and finance the decadence. No one knows how these guys got their money but their speaking about docking 200ft boats in the Caribbean and running up 5 figure bar tabs. I personally care less what they did to get the cash. Most important for me, I only wear my blacked out Prada shades because if you can’t see my eyes than you can’t see me. I get my pool workout on by using weights, the hotel furniture, and dancer girls I invite to accompany on my little adventures. The DJs are on point at my pools and the party is like a story line: It has a tense buildup, a climax of euphoric fervor, and an abrupt crime scene ending of Patron shot wreckage all set to a fire-orange and crimson-red sunset backdrop.

If you are like me and have a weakness for the green and red felt tables, You really have to prearrange what you are going to do with your winnings or you will spend it on more gambling. I only take casinos money-they never take mine. This usually results in some brand new clothes, show tickets, VIP events, and an ABUNDANCE of drinking money. I don’t drink at tables. I hustle and politic every minute I gamble and I let the casinos thrive on you dumbass bitches that go there at lose $3Gs in a day and then laugh about it. I will never let anyone have my $3Gs. And I never laugh when I lose money. I instead use gambling time to replenish my body with water and save the drinking for pools and clubs. And even then, I don’t go overboard on the drinking because I converse with fly dancers, models, and moneymakers and game spitting requires a clear head. Contrary to advice from the Big Tymer’s, this isn’t the time to drink till you throw-up. She was smashed out of her mind but that wasn’t my problem. Whether I seal deals or not I have an image and a reputation to uphold and extremely expensive clothes. I’m not letting anyone ruin either.

I dress in the best clothes I own. Please try to hit up Tao in a polo or a t-shirt and expect to get any type of respect. You will see me flying past the line and getting the rope opened for me with a clique of people I brought and you will never get in. Which is good, I don’t really want you in there anyways-your game is obviously weak and everyone can see it. You control your destiny and the perception that you portray. Wear polo shirts, you’ll get treated that way. I’m not tempted by the style of all those LA d-bags that wear tees and lame jeans. I let them have that style all to themselves. I can’t begin to tell you how many times women commended me on how nice I looked. I was suited up all nights in a row (except when I just rocked my shirt I got in the French islands with a French cuff, can’t cover up those cuff links) Amongst a sea of print T’s adorned with sequins and whatever else the other side of the street is wearing, a well tailored suit and my blown open shirt really stands out.

Finally, I always eat good food. I don’t do crappy buffets, I only do the Bellagio buffet which looks like each continent put out the best food it has and sat it out for you to eat. I never eat any fast food or hot dogs or whatever else garbage people go for. I can get that stuff anytime back home, even though I don’t. Eat foods that you’ve never had, experience life. I usually hit up Ceasers’ or Bellagio’s spot at like 5:30am and the food and liquored up coffee drinks are unforgettable. It could have been my wonderful waitress Natasha…Or it could have been the fact that I chopped it up with Depp and almost knocked him for one of his lady friends. Unintentionally I might add. This is the time to be a grown-up and channel your inner Bourdain. People that really do things eat real food.

I supplement all this by only drinking champagne, Goose, and Patron; never beer. Once I let a few USC football players getting ready to go pro (athletes get the hookup in Vegas and I have nothing against them, I knew several pro athletes and a few prospects and they are fine people) go into the nightspots and order beer and clean up the Vegas sluts so that there were only quality drinks and women left for me to swoop. I’m automatically systematic like that. Never say “What happens in Vegas…” or “Vegas Baby!” I guess that works at the lameass Palms Hotel where everybody is wearing beanies and muscle shirts and is coked out of their mind but that don’t even try to pull that type of shit at the places I go. People will look at you weird and some owner or VIP will probably get your ass kicked out for showing ignorance at their parties. And don’t try to fight me. I know the girls that you like wherever we may be are sweating me like a coke bottle on a hot day, but fighting someone in Vegas is never something you want to do. Last fight that happened when I was there, one of the guys got lead poisoning. As in, 2 shells in the back of the head. And that was before he got thrown in the million dollars landscaping by a secret entryway in the back of Caesars. How impressed do you think the girls were with him after that? Watch yourself; you don’t know who you are dealing with.

Click Here to Download The G Manifesto’s Free Gentleman’s Club Report (pdf)

Click Here 007 Lifestyle – Living Like James Bond!

Lastly, if you can’t do it big in Vegas, don’t do it. No one cares about your money problems there and you will end up across the street with the rest of the lames that are trying to ball on a budget. So here’s some advice if you don’t want to go all out in Vegas: stay drinking beer at your hometown 2-for-1 Chili’s night with your polo shirted frat brothers and talk about how great that keg stand was at your college party.

I’ll be somewhere a bit more engaging.

Click Here for these G Manifesto Las Vegas Data Sheets:

The Blueprint of a Perfect Night in Las Vegas

Las Vegas Thoughts

Impeccable Technique: Vegas Beyond Undefeated

The Las Vegas Litmus Test

Cam’ron – What Means The World To You

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16 Comments on "Las Vegas in May"

  1. The G Manifesto
    Juno
    23/03/2010 at 11:48 pm Permalink

    “Lastly, if you can’t do it big in Vegas, don’t do it.”

    Favorite line. I think that fits to so many other places and events.

  2. The G Manifesto
    dick goodnuts
    24/03/2010 at 9:07 am Permalink

    MPM

    I appreciate the revisions and personal anecdotes. You’ve added some refreshing swagger. But you gotta credit the original author. “Damn, where’s the love?!” Jay-Z

  3. The G Manifesto
    Gustav
    24/03/2010 at 12:30 pm Permalink

    The Wynn is beautiful–while my friends said it was “expensive” (not in my vernacular), they were all in awe when they realized that my suite was better than their whole experience in Las Vegas. I guess the pirate pseudo-exotic dancers at TI convinced them it was worth staying there instead.

    I’ll have to try to the buffets at the Bellagio and the Caesar’s next time over Wolfgang Puck’s restaurant (though our friend’s dad is good friends with him). Keep up the good work MPM, losing money is no laughing matter.

  4. The G Manifesto
    The G Manifesto
    24/03/2010 at 12:46 pm Permalink

    Gustav,

    Yeah, I overheard a couple of “players” in Hollywood last weekend yapping about Vegas. They were talking about staying at Planet Hollywood.

    I was thinking about how I have never stepped foot in there nor would I stay there even if they gave me 20k in chips.

    But I guess that’s the competition out there for you. Soft like Italian leathers.

    - MPM

  5. The G Manifesto
    lurker
    24/03/2010 at 2:27 pm Permalink

    MPM,

    I dig your style, but Goose and Patron? Really? Both are overpriced image liquors. Far better quality drinks coexist in the same price range. Besides, a real G drinks whisky…

  6. The G Manifesto
    The G Manifesto
    24/03/2010 at 3:07 pm Permalink

    lurker,

    It was a “Guest Manifesto”.

    I don’t drink tequila at all. (Drank a bottle and a half when I was 16 and nearly died. Still can’t bare the smell of the stuff).

    I do drink a lot of Goose and Sodas. The “overpriced image liquor” aspect is not lost on me, however I get less hungover drinking Goose.

    I would switch because of the “overpriced image liquor” factor but have not found a Vodka that has minimal hangovers like Goose. Any suggestions?

    Lately I have been drinking more Vino. And beer/ rum in the Caribbean. And Aguardiente in Colombia.

    - MPM

  7. The G Manifesto
    Juliano
    24/03/2010 at 4:52 pm Permalink

    Money is never a laughing matter – Get two shells in the head if you start club drama. And drinks for cheaper? I hear rooms are cheaper at Imperial Palace too. There’s no more better bottles when your drinking them straight out the bottle in the pool at the Venetian while talking about stacking money in Barbados.

  8. The G Manifesto
    dick goodnuts
    24/03/2010 at 6:21 pm Permalink

    Russian Standard – the best vodka for avoiding a hangover.

  9. The G Manifesto
    DrG
    24/03/2010 at 7:03 pm Permalink

    MPM,

    This is your best post yet. I’m planning on hitting up Vegas next month and will definitely try to live large while out there. What’s your opinion of MGM Grand, is it worth it for the nightlife or should I pay a bit more for Wynn?

    Thanks,
    DrG

  10. The G Manifesto
    Jim Kirk
    24/03/2010 at 10:53 pm Permalink

    @ Dr. G –

    The MGM Grand has the ‘Crazy Horse Paris’ show which, outside of a strip club, is the best show out there. If MPM got the Crazy Horse chick – the blond who dances behind the rubber prison bars – now that would be a story. The cast is actually from France – you could tell even if you weren’t told. The red lips couch where the act ‘A lesson in Seduction by Satine’ is performed was actually designed by Salvador Dali. The MGM is about 3 or 4 long blocks south of the Bellagio. Frankly, I don’t know anyone who has ever stayed there.

    The Wynn is somewhat set off by itself from the ‘strip’ – I’ve never tried but I don’t know if you could walk tp the strip – its to far in a suit even without the 100 degree temperatures but the Wynn has become everyone’s I know and my favorite in Las Vegas. While I can’t go to LV and live it up like MPM or the guest that just posted cause I don’t have that kind of wood – I was sitting two rows over from Beyonce who was lounging at the Wynn pool when I was there at the end of last summer.

    Although what I say now goes against the whole grain of the G Manifesto and assuming MPM doesn’t delete this and ban me for being wheesh – Las Vegas is starving for guests – even the Bellagio last summer. If you have enough lead time – hunt around and call the Wynn – sooner or later you’ll get a good price. Save the money for the Spearmint Rhino and a new suit.

  11. The G Manifesto
    M.W.
    25/03/2010 at 2:23 am Permalink

    I second Russian Standard. Best “tasting” vodka on the market especially for the tab – a fifth won’t even cost you a Jackson (and I don’t mean Michael Jackson, either) – authentically Russian, too.

    I remember in one particular manifesto you mentioned allowing a dopey SoCal girl to think champagne = prosecco. The G move, vodka style? Fill an already-finished bottle of Goose with the lower priced yet far superior Russian Standard.

    All the best.

  12. The G Manifesto
    ppc.bz
    25/03/2010 at 10:02 am Permalink

    This is the best gman post in a minute.

  13. The G Manifesto
    lurker
    25/03/2010 at 12:17 pm Permalink

    MPM –

    My bad. Got caught up in the read and missed the byline for the story.

    For vodkas, I’m partial to 42 Below, Ketel, Chopin, and Hangar One. Most of the time, though, I prefer gin – Hendricks and tonic being a go-to drink – or Scotch.

    Next time you roll through SD I recommend hitting up Crest Liquor in Crown Point and chatting with the skinny gentleman in glasses – whatever your poison, he’ll steer you to something new and good.

  14. The G Manifesto
    DrG
    25/03/2010 at 4:55 pm Permalink

    Jim, thanks for the advice. Wynn it is next time. By the way as far as vodka go’s I prefer flying with the Goose (Grey Goose) that is. So smooth that sipping without a chaser is the norm for me and no hangover’s after.

  15. The G Manifesto
    JP Worthington
    26/03/2010 at 10:18 am Permalink

    Goose is the drinks that all the fly bitches like. You can polish off a liter, and still be ready to smoke bomb trees and get lapdances in the VIP pool at the Mirage. And thats during the day time. Hit the Vampire Nap, Get suited up, and more goose at the restaurants, the Wynn properties have the best clubs restaurants and then get that spearmint rhino limo to pick you up out front. oh and what kind of vodka is in the limo. Gooose. Its the Gatorade of liquor, you can go all day and night.

  16. The G Manifesto
    say aaaa
    30/03/2010 at 4:30 pm Permalink

    Those chiks may have been in movies and magazines, yet here you are keyboard gangsta promoting Dead Bat in Paraguay. Only other dorks are impressed.

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