Here is my Saturday night Step-By-Step™ for Montreal:
1. Go say what up to the crew at Le Filet. Go for a little grind, get the Huitres Garnies like the Hon Shimeji, huile de truffe, creme d’huitres or Gratin de miso. Thank me later. Finish off with the Hamachi, sesame, sumac and Rilletes de Maquereau, fume, huile citron and toast. (You might want to make a reservation at the bar, which is something I love about Montreal). Get some vino and some cocktails in your system. Alternate opening salvo: Hit up Lemeac or Juni and package with Baldwin, although I like those spots better during the week. Or maybe Pixtos, although I like that place better during the week also.
2. Head over to St. Laurent and get another warm up cocktail at Kamasutra and spit some Game at some dancers for insurance purposes.
3. Walk down St. Laurent and spit some Street Game at some fly Montreal girls with dark hair and crystal blue eyes. Stop by Globe for a cocktail and a spit session. Work the Vortex Zones at the bar.
4. Skip the line at Koko (you do have the place on Lock Down, right?) and make it happen.
5. If things you are chopping up Koko too hard and need a venue change, roll over to Rosalie and detonate.
I haven’t been updating The G Manifesto too much lately as I arrived in a new city and have been in “Pipe-Building Mode”. Real successful.
And now, I am just enjoying the fruits of my labor. Girls are exiting out the back door of my building and right after, girls are entering the front door. Pretty sick. Girls flights leaving at 11am and lunch swoops with a different girl at 2pm type sh*t.
I have even had fly Sioux and Pawnee girls creep me in their teepee.
And pushing out all the weesh guys in my way with their “Econo-Spray” game.
My biz prayers were answered today too.
Even white girls from the suburbs are are starting to call me “Mugabi” because I have been such a straight up beast.
Hopefully, I should be dropping some more heavy duty Montreal Sheets soon.
Montreal is a city known for its legendary Gentleman’s Clubs. For the life of me, I am not sure why. And I consider myself somewhat of a Gentleman’s Club Aficionado. You know The G, I am as vicious as the realest you know only difference is consistence I’m considered a pro.
Keep in mind where your humble author is coming from though. I think I have spent too much time in Las Vegas at places like The Spearmint Rhino with 100 girls working at a time, that rolling to the smaller Club de danseuses of Montreal just doesn’t hold the same allure.
Many of the Montreal Strip Clubs are hard to Post and Chop. They aren’t really set up for macking.
I have to conclude that Montreal Gentleman’s Clubs get their worldwide reputation from the activities in the back room. But as you know, The G doesn’t play that.
Anyways, I will break down the Strip Clubs of Montreal for you. Keep in mind, I was looking for a good Data Sheet on the Internet while I was there on Montreal Strip Clubs and they don’t exist. This is far and away the best Montreal Strip Clubs Data Sheet in existence. All from my blood, sweat and tears.
I could probably sell this as an E-Book or something, but as usual, I will give this pro-bono, For The People.
Chez Parée: This place has a monster reputation and is conveniently located off Rue Saint-Catherine on Rue Stanley. It is a pretty good package move with Rosalie, or some Steak Tartare, Foie Gras and Oysters at Le Pois Penché. Ferreira Café is not far either for a One-Two punch. Chez Parée is one of the bigger Strip Clubs in Montreal, but it is super hard to swoop at. The front bar is your best bet. The back bar could be great, but girls never roll around it, and you come up deuces. I Number Crunched here a few times, but I don’t think I ever converted. Hell, one girl gave me her “email address”. Ha. That found it’s way into the déchets with a quickness. All the focus is on the main stage and dances. Not a bad spot for a “breather” cocktail though.
Downtown: This place is kind of hidden in plain sight on Sainte-Catherine. It also gets high marks from many in the know. Not your first choice for tourists. It is kind of thin and narrow. Decent bar, but hard to chop. The main bouncer is an absolute Québécois Monster, so I would avoid any skullduggery here. Trust me. I had the door guys and the Monster on lock though, so no problems for your humble author.
Le Grand Prix: Right next to Downtown, it’s also kind of hidden in plain sight. Same set up pretty much as Downtown and poses similar problems to overcome. Had some girls cooking here but I originally met them at Wanda’s. Swooped a fly, thin French girl from here, but I would be remiss to tell you that it was easy.
Wanda’s: Now we are talking. I went 1 for 1 here my first trip to Montreal, so I thought this place was tailor made for me. And it kind of is. You can chill and post. They have a dope upstairs terrace for smoking. The bar is chopable. I had the bouncers on lock down. The bartender girls loved me. Still, I put in mad time at this place and although I swooped here multiple times, in retrospect, I should have done better. Still, this place is tops for me in Montreal. The move here is to meet a girl at the main bar (there are a few more downstairs and on a half floor I think) and then roll up to the terrace bar to smoke and spit. Or you can go out front and smoke with them if you have the bouncers on lock like I did. Then you can just smoke and pitch. This is the only place I really “Cracked The Code” if you will. But saying that is even being generous.
Club Super Sexe: Super famous. But honestly, it was kind of a Super Airball for me. But don’t let me deter you.
Kamasutra: This place is unique in that it is like a half block off Saint Laurent. So you can package it with different moves or if you are trying to kill some time waiting for your female model Beak Dealer or something. Not like I would know anything about that though. The front bar gets a little crowded, but can be decent. I prefer the back bar as I think most sophisticated players would. This place is probably better during the week as you get a lot of American Tourist fools from weak hoods here. They can spool up The Game in rapid fashion. Even saw some American Idiot puke here. F*cking Amateurs.
Cabaret Les Amazones: Never went here, but some girls I swooped at Wanda’s always wanted me to come. It’s a little past Westmount, so I could never make it. But I heard it’s good. The more adventurous might want to check it.
Gentleman’s Choice: This place is on St. Denis. I eyed it tons of times, but never made it. It could be the hidden gem of all gems or majorly suck. I would like to know.
I may be missing a few spots, but that pretty much covers it.
There are also a few more French spots more north in the city around Little Italy I think. I never went for logistical reasons. Again, I would love to know. Drop any Data if you got it.
16 Things I Learned In Montreal After Living There
1. Student Protests. Before arriving in Montreal the Internet was ablaze with thoughts that the Student Protests “would screw up Game in Montreal”. This was 100% false. (Typical weesh Internet data that you find outside The G Manifesto.) The protests actually went down my street two nights in June. They might have slowed traffic a little here and there, but had no effect on nightlife and swooping as far as I was concerned.
2. Hockey. It’s true, pretty much everyone in Montreal loves hockey. Even the girls. Maybe this isn’t a surprise to many, but I thought it was just a stereotype, like American’s all love football, which we know is not the case. Personally, I don’t really dig hockey. I like the fights, but since that is the case, I will just watch boxing. Or box. No ice skating in my future.
3. History of Montreal. I realized that Americans don’t learn any history of Montreal or Quebec in school. Basically, an American school teaches you that: “The French came over from France to Quebec and started fur trading things like Beaver Pelts. And now we have modern day Montreal!” That’s about it. Hell, I didn’t even know the capital of Canada. I felt like an idiot. That is until I asked all my friends if they knew the capital of Canada and I think only one knew it on a second guess. And a lot of my friends are legitimately smart and well traveled. Or at least smarter than me.
4. Americans in Montreal. Americans that come to Montreal are really low-budget Americans. Most are from weesh 3rd and 4th tier cities in America or crap cities like DC or places in New Hampshire or Maine or something*. A bunch of busters. Montreal is definitely not invaded by solid West Coast Playboys from the beach towns. Hell, I might have been the first person from Southern California to ever set foot in the place as far as I could tell. Don’t worry, I straight up represented. Hell, the next person that comes from Southern California should send me a few G’s for all the positive ground work I laid, so to speak, for them. I personally know at least 10 Montreal girls that want to go to California soon, because they think the place is chocked full of guys like me. They are in for a rude awakening though, as I am top tier in that place.
5. The Old Port. I like the Old Port. I like the buildings, some of the restaurants, some of the clubs and getting in my roadwork there. It can be great for swooping girls on dates and workouts. However, it can be touristy, you can get hosed on prices, and there are no real neighborhood joints. I had plans to chop up Cherry and St Paul Hotel non-stop last summer. Both changed on me. Club Cherry Closed, St. Paul Hotel Changed. Got unlucky. Not sure if I would live in or near Old Port again. But it still is pretty dope.
6. Québécois not Canadians. When you make sweeping statements about the people in Montreal, even if it is a compliment, don’t refer to them as “Canadians”. Refer to them as “Québécois”. Thank me later.
7. Northfield Cigarettes. These are the Canadian version of American Spirits. Smoke them. They are not as good as American Spirits, but they are pretty dope. In fact, whenever my boys visited, I had them bring me a carton on American cigarettes. Thanks boys.
8. Safety. Montreal is safe as f*ck. The chances of you slipping on some maple syrup and breaking your neck are way higher than you shanked in a street fight. The only thing that is dangerous is the hipsters on bikes. I almost got wacked by one on a sidewalk. If I wasn’t so damn agile, I would have gotten smashed. I had to dive out of the way, in a Custom Suit mind you, all stunt man style one night when I stepped out. It was pretty damn athletic if I may say so myself. Probably only an “in his prime” Allen Iverson, Floyd Mayweather Jr. or your humble author would have been able to avoid that hipster on a bike.
9. Hipsters VS Douchebags. I thought Montreal would be 100% hipster. But there were plenty of Douchebags too. Who would have known?
10. Construction. There is mad Corruption in the Construction industry in Montreal. It won’t affect you though.
11. Cabs. Like many cities on the globe, the cab drivers in Montreal are pretty retarded. You have to know where you are going, because the cab drivers don’t. And they try to drive you up St. Laurent all the time as well. Learn to use Rue Berri. Way quicker and more smooth.
12. Nightlife Districts. There are mad sections of Montreal with great areas to go out at night or get a grind on. Probably, 10 different “districts” that I could discover. Pretty amazing for a city of Montreal’s size. Especially when you consider a large West Coast city like San Diego has like 2 streets that you can party on.
13. French Language. Speaking French no doubt helps your cause. But it can also confuse girls when you tell them you are from California and then you can speak French. A couple of girls thought I was from Montreal and I was lying to them or something. It was not catastrophic, but something for a G to keep in mind.
14. Terraces. It’s all about Terraces in Montreal in summer. Find them. Live them. Love them. Spark up smokes on them. Swoop at them. I did.
15. Smoking. People in Montreal puff grits. Those gross images on cigarettes to deter smoking don’t work at all.
16. Perfect sized City. Montreal is really the perfect sized city. You can walk most of it, or take a 10 minute subway ride and be anywhere you want. Smooth.
17. Toronto. People in Montreal hate Toronto. I mean really hate it. Say you do too. Trust me.
18. Girls. The girls in Montreal are mad fly. However, they are not as easy as I thought on my first trip. I will explain more later, but there are plenty of thin, well dressed, high heel wearing, French accented dope girls to keep any International Playboy sedated. There are some good mixes. Black girls. Lebanese girls. Asian girls. Russian girls. Italian girls. Irish girls. Dark haired, blue eyed French girls. French Moroccan girls. I like them all. I regulated every shade of that *ss. On the real. Really developed an addiction to the French Moroccan girls. I may go to Morocco soon.
19. Partying. Partying in Montreal is fun as f*ck. You can go out seven nights a week there. Drugs are easy to come by, or at least they were easy for me to “sniff out”, so to speak. I almost got myself into trouble actually. But I am The G. I know what I am doing.
So after years of un-official case study, I am going to tell you about The Best Hangover Cure For International Playboys. And when I say “Hangover”, I am not talking about that weesh movie where Mike Tyson was the only saving grace either.
Well it is more of a “Hangover Prevention” than a hangover cure, but that is neither here nor there. The outcome is the same.
But first a little context:
Over the years, I have messed with every hangover cure or hangover prevention out there. Hell, I meet a complete stranger on the street that has a hangover cure, I give it a shot.
I have even tried Robert Mitchum’s, Frank Sinatra’s and Jim Morrison’s favorite hangover cure: The Ramos Gin Fizz. (a mix of gin, egg white, orange flower water, lemon juice, lime juice, sugar, cream, and soda water.)
None of them work.
I also want to give you an idea of what kind of drinker I am, because there are a lot of fools out there that claim to be “drinkers” and they only throw down 6 drinks per night and they are crying in the morning.
Where I come from and the circles I roll in, we drink. Heavy. I have typically 4 heavy duty Vodka, Sodas with Lime before I even leave my crib for dinner.
Then at dinner, I usually wack down another 3-4 Vodka, Sodas with Lime and another 2-3 Glasses of Vino Tinto.
So I am anywhere between 9-11 Drinks deep before I have even really rolled out into the night.
And then I start to really get live. I usually push into the 15-20 drinks in a night level by swoops end.
“I’ll be Jackie Flannery and you’ll be Terry Noonan.”
I might be having the best summer of my life.
One of the reasons is I have been living in a A State of Grace With Alcohol And Fitness for almost two months straight.
I have been going out each week 3-5 nights. Well, I am kind of lying, I don’t think I have gone out as little as 3 nights in a week yet.
And I booze heavy. And I feel phenomenal.
Here is how to achieve A State of Grace With Alcohol And Fitness:
1. Drink Vodka and Soda with a lime. Top Shelf only. This is the cleanest cocktail you can drink. It’s what the pros drink.
2. With dinner, I always have in front of me, a Vodka and Soda with a lime, a glass of Vino, and a water. If you round robin those three, you will get into the zone.
3. Avoid heavy shot taking. You can do a few if the situation calls for it, but avoid doing 10 shots in a night.
4. Wack down double espressos after your meals. It prevents cirrhosis of the liver.
5. Get your workouts in. 2 1/2 hours a day minimum. I have been off Boxing for a while. My shoulder started “clicking” a little at The Wildcard Gym, because I was throwing my jab with so much authority. Lately, I have been getting in my roadwork, shadow boxing a little, working on footwork, Doing Pushups, and swimming for an hour a day. Mad underwater laps. And swooping mad fly girls.
If you do this, you will find yourself in A State of Grace where you can party all night and maintain great shape.
In fact, partying non-stop is more of a mental challenge for me than a physical challenge.
Last Friday night, my mind actually “scrambled” for a minute. I straight up lost it. My mind that is, not my Game. I had to jump into a Gentleman’s Club to clear my head.
I guess it’s just a thought, though my mind is kinda hazy, my name is Michael, baby.
Later this week, I will tell you about the Greatest Hangover Cure in The World.
The sh*t works. Trust me, it is not one of those BS hangover cures that everyone is always yapping about.
I’m living in A State of Grace and it’s a f*cked up place. I’ll put my Game in your face.
(Side note: Don’t shed a tear for me. I might be having the best summer of my life.)
Being that I am probably the most prolific writer on The Race Track Lifestyle since Damon Runyon, I have put together a definitive guide for The Del Mar Race Track for any up and comers that want to take the title.
Who knows though? Maybe I will pull one last “job”. So no slacking, or I may just come and peel your girls like Alpha-Hydroxy.
“The secret of success is making your vocation your vacation.” – Mark Twain
One thing I have learned in life is that success is The Ultimate Revenge on your rivals. That also includes anyone that has ever doubted you, held you back, or tried to slow you down.
I would like to say I don’t feel pleasure when my rivals feel pain, but I do. And it is pure torture for them when I travel the world, swoop fly girls and do it while smoking cigarettes and wearing Custom Suits when they have to sit in their cars in hellish commutes or trap themselves in excruciating relationships with weesh girls.
“Success” however must be defined differently for everyone.
Personally, I don’t play the Game of “who ever has the most money wins”. That is a losing Game to play.
Money only gets you so far. I would rather have time and freedom at the cost of a little money.
In fact, I don’t know too many out there that make as much scratch as I do and works as little as I do. It’s a good niche that International Playboys have, and they mostly fall into two camps:
1) Cats who travel tons but stay in hostels and have no cake or