The G Manifesto

Gerald Celente on Dressing Sharp and The Return to Elegance

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We all know that America is in rapid decline. We are probably the fattest country in the world and in addition to that, we probably dress the sloppiest. Hell, I have been saying forever that even Las Vegas is a slobfest these days. Frank Sinatra, Dean Martin, and Bugsy Siegel are rolling over in their graves.

Start watching at 5:57 (it is actually a pretty good move to listen to the entire interview):

“Look at what happened to this country. The people show up looking like pigs everywhere they go. Casual Fridays? How about everyday sloppy?

And until the people regain the dignity and respect they are going to be walked over and trampled.”

And

“As times get tougher and money gets scarcer, one of the hottest new money-making, mood-changing, influence-shaping trends of the century will soon be born; we forecast that this will be “Elegance” in its many manifestations,” he opines. “The trend will begin with fashion and spread through all the creative arts, as the need for beauty trumps the thrill of the thuggish. A strong, do-it-yourself aspect will make up for reduced discretionary income, as personal effort provides the means for affordable sophistication.”

Source

I am glad someone feels the same way I do as it seems like no one else is talking about this.

Look back to old photos of America. Even the poorest immigrants dressed sharp, had respect for themselves, held their head high and had dignity. Today girls are wearing UGG boots and guys are wearing glitter on their shirts and skinny jeans.

We need to return to an Age of Elegance in America.

I will help do my part; by rolling out Custom Suited Down and swooping one girl at a time. (Or two at a time. Or three at a time.)

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The Rest is Up to You…

Michael Porfirio Mason
AKA The Peoples Champ
AKA The Seventh Letter
AKA Your favorite International Playboy’s favorite International Playboy
The Guide to Getting More out of Life

http://www.thegmanifesto.com

Sinatra The Way You Look Tonite

Fifth Night in Riga, Latvia: The End of Me?

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“I assess the power of a will by how much resistance, pain, torture it endures and knows how to turn to its advantage.” – Friedrich Nietzsche

It was a large bare warehouse room, dark and damp with concrete everywhere. It was difficult to say whether it was intended as a storage facility or a shipping and receiving area as it was dark and my vision was hazy as I started to come to.

There was a table in the centre under the alabasterine ceiling light with all types of power tools and other instruments of torture.

I sat, tied up, in an incongruous-looking throne-like chair in carved maple with a ripped blue velvet seat. My wrists were bound to the arms of the chair and my ankles to the legs of the chair. A rope was passed three times across my chest, under my armpits and through the back of the chair. I could barely move. The knots were tight with very little “give” in them.

I was a prisoner, completely defenseless.

Regardless, I still looked smooth in my Cookie Monster Blue Custom Suit with the interior so purple, you might have thought I was from Grape Street. And some gators from Barbados and I have never seen anyone else play those.

Four large Russians in leather jackets stood around me smoking jacks and drinking.

I struggled, chafing my swollen wrists and contemplating with myself how much energy I would waste by resisting.

One of the large Russians lit up a cigarette, picked up a mini sledge hammer and smashed my knee cap.

My whole body went into an excruciating spasm, as I screamed and my whole body knotted up and perspiration flowed down my face, dampening my Custom Suit.

I deeply groaned in pain, from a place in my body that I never knew existed, and all I could think of was having a cigarette.

Another of the large Russians, who seemed to be the leader, walked up to me and said, “Tell us where the money is, and we can put a stop to this unfortunate trouble you have gotten yourself into.”

I have no idea what the cat is talking about as the last thing I remember is a 19 year old Russian girl giving me a shot of Black Balsam in a nightclub earlier in the night. At the current moment, I was really regretting coming to Riga, Latvia as I felt reminded of my fast life ventures.

He then says, “If you are not going to talk, the Game is over. This is the end.”

The Russian then nods to the sledge hammer Russian, who picks up a Dewalt power drill and turns in on, drill bit whirling…

F*ck.

I have been having some trippy dreams on this trip.

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The Rest is Up to You…

Michael Porfirio Mason
AKA The Peoples Champ
AKA The Seventh Letter
AKA Your favorite International Playboy’s favorite International Playboy
The Guide to Getting More out of Life

http://www.thegmanifesto.com

AZ feat. Nas Mo Money Mo Murder

Fourth Night in Riga, Latvia: Succulent Youth

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“With most women his manner was a mixture of taciturnity and passion. The lengthy approaches to a seduction bored him almost as much as the subsequent mess of disentanglement.” – Ian Fleming

“If you catch me sexing a chick, its a bisexual chick or something foriegn, I’ll never forget” – Juelz Santana

I go to bed (and I don’t mean Club B.E.D in South Beach either) after another brutal, blood bath of a night in Riga, Latvia.

I wake up feeling pretty brutalized, and contemplate pulling an Amsterdam Nap, as frustration, depression and suicidal thoughts start to consume me.

I shake those thoughts off, thankfully, and decide instead to Enter The Dragon, late in the Riga afternoon. During a jump rope session by the Daugava, little Latvian kids and some teenage girls stop to watch me in action. I can’t really blame them as they probably thought they were witnessing a young Roberto “Manos de Piedra” Duran in action.

The pseudo-Celebrity I am gaining in Riga, Latvia, bolsters my resolve and contemplate what I am going to do for the evening (Friday Night). After a shower, I go on a little reconnaissance to check out the nightlife scene, which, surprisingly, has been somewhat lackluster so far.

Friday night is definetly on in Latvia. The streets, bars and energy are heightened 10 fold compared to Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday night. Dope. I do notice that there are some sightings of the infamous, goofy “Stag Parties” I have been warned about. But nothing that can’t be overcome.

Now, I am caught in a classic dilemma after two nights of raging till 6 am:

- Should I pack it in early and save it for Saturday night as I only feel 80%?
- Or should I just power through Friday Night, beat up, and also feel sub-par on Saturday Night?

Fortunately, my questions are answered by the form of a text message from Inga, that super fly 19 year old Latvian girl from the night before.

Inga: How your day? (8:16 pm)

Michael Mason: Let’s meet up tonight for a drink. (8:46 pm)

Inga: Meiby! (8:48 pm)

I hate text messaging, because, well for one, its super gay, so I call Inga instead of perpetuating world wide nonsense. We make plans to get a drink in an hour and eat dinner.

I get dipped in the freshest fabrics, and meet Inga with a two kisses greeting. She is wearing high heels, and a short skirt with leggings covering her Succulently Youthful 19 year old Latvian body. She is down.

We get a couple drinks and go eat at this hotel restaurant that I have locked down over the course of the last few days. Hand shakes all around to the restaurant staff, we sit down to eat. I am now in my element.

I keep the wine flowing at dinner and during numerous smoke breaks, there is blood in the water.

Coincidentally, (or maybe strategically) the hotel restaurant we finish eating at is directly across from my hotel.

I suggest we check out my hotel. She agrees.

You know how this ends.

You really thought I would get blanked in Riga, Latvia?

Do me a favor.

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(For those scoring the fight at home, I am now 1-3 with 1KO in Riga, Latvia. And still 1-0-1 on the physical confrontation tip.)

The Rest is Up to You…

Michael Porfirio Mason
AKA The Peoples Champ
AKA GFK, Jr.
AKA The Sly, Slick and the Wicked
AKA The Voodoo Child
The Guide to Getting More out of Life

http://www.thegmanifesto.com

Big K.R.I.T – “Somedayz” (Dir. John Colombo)

How Hot are The Girls in Riga, Latvia?

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Let’s take a little break from the nightly (First Night, Second Night, Third Night) Riga blood bath stories for a minute.

Since I have been writing about Riga, Latvia, the most common question I have been bombarded with lately has been, “So, How hot are the girls in Riga, Latvia?”

It’s really a great question and I wondered the same thing before I went to Riga, Latvia.

Let me put it to you like this:

The first day in Riga, I walked for a couple of hours to check out the spot and to get a SIM card at Rimi.

Within those few hours I saw at least 30 girls that were mad fly. As a comparison, in Los Angeles in a full day, I might see, might see 10 girls at that level. And that is being very generous to Los Angeles.

Riga is insane for fly girls. Mindblowing even. I would go and say legitimately, that 4 out of 5 girls are swoopable. And 1 out of 20 is ridiculous.

Mad Blondes. But plenty of Black Haired girls with crystal blue eyes. Brunettes. Red Heads. And in case you didn’t know, I love women. Particularly women with black hair, brunettes, blonds and redheads. Long hair down to their thin waists.

Almost every girl is thin. Which compared to America, where we have obesity rates of what? 90%? Riga is pretty impressive on the fly girl front.

Girls in Riga, like I said before, are thin, wear high-heels non-stop (even on cobblestones) and wear short skirts (even when its freezing outside). They really make a mockery of American girls.

And they all smoke, so you don’t have to listen to some semi-fly, stupid, American girl in UGG boots telling you that “OMG, Cigarettes are gross”.

(Which brings up an interesting question: If cigarettes are so bad for you, how come Latvian girls, that smoke all the time, are in better shape, more beautiful and thinner than American girls who don’t smoke very much? Thoughts?)

It might be the top place that I have been in my life for the “highest percentage of fly girls” category.

But I don’t think it will last forever. Get it while it’s good, Oh my Brothers.

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The Rest is Up to You…

Michael Porfirio Mason
AKA The Peoples Champ
AKA GFK, Jr.
AKA The Sly, Slick and the Wicked
AKA The Voodoo Child
The Guide to Getting More out of Life

http://www.thegmanifesto.com

Rouge Rouge – L’amour

Third Night in Riga, Latvia: Karate Chop

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After realizing The Scam Night in Riga, I shake it off and Enter The Dragon.

I decide to get some culture in me, so I check out Latvijas Okupācijas muzejs or in English, The Museum of the Occupation of Latvia. Definitely, worth checking out. Real depressing though. Here is the basic rundown of the spot and the recent history of Latvia:

1. The Soviets took over Latvia and screwed them over.
2. The Nazi’s took over Latvia from the Soviets and screwed them over.
3. The Soviets took back over Latvia from the Nazi’s and screwed them over again.

Something like 550,000 people died, were murdered or disappeared. About 1/3 of the population. Not too many bright spots either. Like I said, pretty depressing stuff.

As I was leaving the Museo, I get a text from an 18 year old girl, named Karina, I met during a Street Game Session the day before while getting a SIM card from Rimi.

She wants to roll tonight.

She is not the flyest girl I have met by a long shot in Riga, but I figure 1) She’s 18 years old, 2) She speaks English really well, and 3) The whole affair has the promise of entertainment value and I can learn about the culture.

So I agree to meet up.

After another Vampire Nap, I get dipped and roll to meet her.

When I see her, she is with a girlfriend named Inga. 19 years old and super fly. Smooth. How often does that happen?

I roll with the two girls to get some drinks and these girls are buying me some Vodka shots, so I start to chip back away at the Scam dollars lost. The conversation is real basic stuff, which I actually prefer, as my Russian and Latvian skills are pretty weesh, and the two girls English is pretty basico, although Karina speaks pretty good.

Karina gets up to go to the bathroom at one spot, and Inga kisses me. It’s on like Eazy-E.

We roll to some weesh club, but it hardly matters as a “weesh club” still has mad fly girls in it, being we are in Riga, Latvia.

The night starts getting a little hazy, and I start rapping out with other girls and locking the place down Boa Constrictor Style ie The Bouncers, Bartenders and Waitresses.

I sit down and start talking to two fly Russian girls named Anna, and I think Christina. I notice there is some Russian cat kind of giving me the ice grill, but I pay him no mind.

The conversation with the two Russian girls is going smooth and according to plan as I Number Crunch the more fly of the two.

One of the girls says something in Russian to the cat ice grilling me which I take to mean “Beat it” or something. My Russian language skills are not too dope. She then tells me, “Don’t worry about him, he’s drunk.”

I respond, “I am not worried”. I glance over at him to see what he is up to then commence to spitting Game, my back turned to Mad Dogging Russian.

I continue with some dope story when I feel a pain in my neck. Russian Homeboy Karate Chops me from behind!

Unreal. When was the last time you were Karate Chopped? Maybe 4th Grade?

I stand up, Russian Homeboy backs off (he is pretty big), and I get ready to let him hear the birdies chirp.

The Russian girls jump in between us and I hesitate. I am not sure why? Maybe its maturity? Or maybe I don’t want to spend time in a freezing Latvian prison? But I don’t light up the Russian kook with a combo.

One of the Russian girls runs and gets one of the Bouncers I locked down earlier.

The bouncer comes out and grabs the Russian guy and ejects him from the club, using his head to open the door.

Smooth.

I trip out for a moment trying to make sense of what just happened, cause I want to know what’s going on like Marvin, but after a second of that nonsense, I do another shot of Black Balsam.

I continue raging till 6am trying to convert some of these leads back to my hotel to kick up their high-heeled boots, to no avail.

Good night though. Two physical confrontations in three days. Not bad.

But just like that, I go 0-3 in Riga, Latvia.

(Well, technically I am 0-3 on swooping girls in Riga, Latvia, but I am 1-0-1 on the physical confrontation tip. We will rule tonight’s action with the Karate Chop Kid, a draw.)

Click Here for The G Manifesto’s Gentleman’s Club Report

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The Rest is Up to You…

Michael Porfirio Mason
AKA The Peoples Champ
AKA GFK, Jr.
AKA The Sly, Slick and the Wicked
AKA The Voodoo Child
The Guide to Getting More out of Life

http://www.thegmanifesto.com

Eazy-E – It’s On

Second Night in Riga, Latvia: Scam

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So, I wake up nice and refreshed in Riga, Latvia. Do some roadwork, shadow box a little and jump some rope by the Daugava.

I get in a good dose of aquatherapy, throw on some fresh gear and go into a Street Game session (which is kind of like The Crack Game).

I am literally amazed by the amount of open fly girls on the streets. High heels. Cobblestones. Short Skirts. Cold.

I approach five different girls and get two sets of numbers. Decent. (I will get more into Street Game in Riga a little later.)

Get some work done, take a little Vampire Nap and head out into the cold and beautiful evil that is nighttime in Riga.

I have some decent Data Sheets of bars I accumulated from some people and I decide to check them out.

It’s Wednesday night, and Riga seems curiously dead. I check out three or four spots that were recommended to me, and they all turn out to be airballs. (Typical, as not everyone comes through with the bulletproof Data Sheets like The G Manifesto. My Riga, Latvia nightclub/bar Data Sheets coming soon.)

I grab a Kebab and switch up my buzz. As I walk down the main street, two pretty fly girls check me out and step to me in transition.

“How are you?” I say.

“Why you speak in English?”, one of the fly girls says.

“I am from California. American.” I respond.

“Oh, good.” Both Latvian/Russian girls say. Although the reaction is more of a “Oh, good.”, like “Ok“. Not a pre-George Bush “Oh, good.” which ment “Cool, I am really interested in getting to know you and swoop you”.

The trap is set.

Let me back up a minute:

I had heard before about the scams in Riga where girls try to get you to go to a bar and then you get overcharged, but I am not thinking about this now.

So you don’t fall victim to this one, here is how the scam goes down:

1. Fly girls step to you, and invite you to a bar that they like.
2. You get mad overcharged.
3. You argue about the bill.
4. Russian Thugs jump you and beat you senseless until you give up your PIN #.

Smooth scam. And I fell for it. And I was even warned about it previously.

But then again, I am the perfect “Mark” for a scam such as this as my Ego is huge and two fly girls stepping to me happens all the time, so it didn’t give off any red flags.

Here is another thing about me: Money has very little value.

I am a complete moron when it comes to money. I have had a certain ability to make it my whole life, but I have also hadan equal ability to lose it. Sort of like Mike Tyson.

In the spirit of this, I didn’t even bother to check out the exchange rates between Latvian Lats to USD before I rolled out for the evening.

And for some reason, I was thinking in my head it was 2 USD to 1 LVL. But in reality it is 1 LVL to .5 USD.

So these girls were showing me around and we got some food and drinks. When I got the bill, I noticed it was a little expensive, but not knowing the exchange rates, I was actually doubly hustled.

(I found this out the next day. Oh well. I will Charge it to The Game. You can keep the change, but I got to hold on to my receipt.)

After partying with these girls for a while, I end up ditching them for some other fly girls and end up raging till 6am. I think I actually got scammed again, but didn’t realize it again. Full idiot move.

Did end up with some decent leads though.

But just like that, I go 0-2 in Riga, Latvia.

(Well, technically, I am 0-2 on swooping girls. But I am 1-0 on the physical confrontation tip after that judo throw the night before.)

Click Here for The G Manifesto’s Gentleman’s Club Report

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The Rest is Up to You…

Michael Porfirio Mason
AKA The Peoples Champ
AKA GFK, Jr.
AKA The Sly, Slick and the Wicked
AKA The Voodoo Child
The Guide to Getting More out of Life

http://www.thegmanifesto.com

LAY AWAY / THE ISLEY BROTHERS

First Night In Riga, Latvia

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After London Fashion Week, I get off the plane from London, Stansted in Riga, Latvia. It’s raining, late and mad cold. Or at least its cold for me, someone who’s coldest night in the last few years has been a summer night in San Diego.

Cab to the hotel, unpack, try to get some Internet set up and head down to lobby. I am starving.

“Any good spots to eat around here?”, I ask the Latvian kids working the front desk at my pretty smooth, pseudo-boutique hotel.

“It’s kind of late. There is not too many places open late on a Tuesday. Maybe you try McDonald’s?”, says the Latvian hotel lobby cat.

“McDonald’s? That’s it? What about some late night Latvian grinds?”, I respond.

“No, I think just McDonald’s.” Konstantine says.

“F*ck”, I say to myself.

“Ok, do you have a map?”, I say.

So I get a map and start walking in the rain in the Old City of Riga looking for something other than McDonald’s to grind on.

I walk a few blocks pass a few shady bars (that actually look pretty decent, but I am ‘gry) and actually find something that seems open. And it looks Latvian. Smooth.

I walk up to the restaurant, and some Russian cat starts toward me.

I think he is going to tell me that the restaurant is closed or something, but instead, the drunk Russian fool grabs my shoulders!

I don’t really like people putting their paws on my butter soft leather jacket, and I am not in the mood for any pleasantries, so I use Russian homeboy’s momentum and judo throw him to the ground where he slips over and over again, slow-motion style, on the wet cobble stones.

He tries to get up, slips again and finally backs away as I keep my eye on him and his buddy across the street as I stay ready like The Dragon.

I have been sparing tons lately, and both Russian cats can see that I am not amenable to any traditional Latvian dance lessons, or whatever the f*ck they wanted, so they both split, yapping in Russian. Or maybe its Latvian. I can’t really tell.

I think to myself, that if they are going to get more friends, I don’t really care. If they want a rematch, I am Game, but I want to do it on a full stomach.

So I head into the restaurant and get some Latvian grinds. Not bad. Some kind of dumpling, ravioli type trips. Forget the name.

After the Latvian eat-on, I kick back a little sipping my Cesu beer, when two fly Latvian girls, one blonde, one brunette walk in to pick up some food to-go. They check me out.

The girls pay for their food, go outside, and spark up a smoke outside the door. The blonde Latvian girl smiles at me through the glass door. I don’t need anymore of an invitation, so I pound my Cesu and say “What up” to the meitenes.

“Why you speak in English?”, Christina says. (The first of five girls named “Christina” I would meet in Latvia.)

“I am from California. American.” I say. (As I heard it is important for girls not to think you are from England in Latvia).

“Oh, good.” Both Latvian girls say. Although the reaction is more of a “Oh, good.”, like “Ok“. Not a pre-George Bush “Oh, good.” which ment “Cool, I am really interested in getting to know you and swoop you”.

Regardless, I look brutally handsome in the butter soft leather, so the girls are down.

After a bunch of back and forth banter, they pitch me on some spots to roll out to, but I just play it smooth and just Number Crunch Christina.

Been in Riga less than a half hour and did a judo throw and got a fly girls number. Hell, I haven’t even taken a shower and I don’t even have a SIM card yet.

I think Riga is my kind of town.

Click Here for The G Manifesto’s Gentleman’s Club Report

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The Rest is Up to You…

Michael Porfirio Mason
AKA The Peoples Champ
AKA GFK, Jr.
AKA The Sly, Slick and the Wicked
AKA The Voodoo Child
The Guide to Getting More out of Life

http://www.thegmanifesto.com

Naomi – How Many Loves

Riga, Latvia: Get it while it’s Good

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As it stands today, Riga, Latvia is a wonderland of model thin girls, in short skirts (and it’s cold) and high heels (even on cobblestones).

However, I have a feeling that it wont last forever.

Why?

You see American culture creeping in. McDonald’s and TGI Friday’s are extremely popular. This will, in time, fatify Latvia.

You also are starting to see younger girls wearing UGG Boots. This will, in time, kill off the stilettos.

My guess is there is a 5-10 year window left. Maybe less.

So get it before it’s too late.

Click Here for The G Manifesto’s Gentleman’s Club Report

Click Here 007 Lifestyle – Living Like James Bond!

The Rest is Up to You…

Michael Porfirio Mason
AKA The Peoples Champ
AKA GFK, Jr.
AKA The Sly, Slick and the Wicked
AKA The Voodoo Child
The Guide to Getting More out of Life

http://www.thegmanifesto.com

Soda Pop Confusion – Variety Lab

Reader Questions on Style, Boxing and Drug Dealing

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Finally, with a little downtime after London Fashion Week and post-week madness, I had a chance to answer some questions from readers sent to The G Manifesto:

Q: Should you ever button the 2nd button on a two-button suit?

Michael Mason: You should almost never button the second button on a two-button suit. The only exception is if it is a “high-two” like some of the suits that Ozwald Boateng has been busting out lately. If you don’t button the second button on those, it looks weesh.

Q: Recently, I saw you sparring at The Wildcard Gym in Los Angeles. I noticed you were working off the double jab and throwing a left hook off that. Would you say that is your signature combination?

Michael Mason: If you saw me sparring at Wildcard recently, then you saw me take some heavy shots. I was super hungover those days. But that is neither here nor there. Back to your question, I do work off the double jab frequently. I don’t know if its my “signature combination” with the hook though. My favorite combo lately has been the jab, “ride out” then counter the opponents jab with a straight right over the top. Very Mayweatheresque.

Q: Hows it going? I live in Dana Point and want to start dressing well, I’ve asked around and no one seems to know shit about tailors etc, do you happen to know of a good one and or any good shops in the area?

Michael Mason: Yeah, Orange County is pretty clueless on that front. However, you are in luck. I have a really good friend in Newport Beach, who swears by Gary’s in I think Fashion Island.

If I recall correctly, I have been there before and picked up some ties and pocket squares a while back. Place is pretty dope and will definitely be able to steer you in the right direction.

Q: Mr. Mason, I am entering my junior year of college, and am becoming a member of the weed trade. I will be living in a building with about 800 students, most of them freshmen and sophomores (not too smart).

The issue I have is that I only deal in the best weed, and cannot possibly compete with the wanks selling shwag at 50-60 an eighth. I need to charge 70 to smoke for free, and about 75 an eighth to make a profit.

I have no doubt that what I will be moving is the best on campus (it will make you see god.) How do I take my quality product and advertise it properly so that the true afficianodo’s come to me? My strategy right now is to reach out to a few smoakers I know and get them to vouch for my product on their floors. What further advice do you have so that I can distinguish myself from the wannabee freshmen who sell stuff which could be confused as oregano?

Michael Mason: I think you will be fine. In any business, a superior product advertises itself.

Click Here for The G Manifesto’s Gentleman’s Club Report

Click Here 007 Lifestyle – Living Like James Bond!

The Rest is Up to You…

Michael Porfirio Mason
AKA The Peoples Champ
AKA GFK, Jr.
AKA The Sly, Slick and the Wicked
AKA The Voodoo Child
The Guide to Getting More out of Life

http://www.thegmanifesto.com

Juelz Santana Changes