People are always coming up to me on Los Calles y Las Avenidas of the world and asking me, “Yo, Michael, how do you get to a new city in summertime and within a month you are the #1 Ranked player in the whole city?”
It comes down to Preparation and Practice.
Here was my Summertime Preparation formula:
1. Yoga. I hit up the Yoga Steez heavy in preparation for summer. This got my body back in order for the brutal lifestyle of an International Playboy. Read these data sheets on the subject:
And as you know, over here at The G Manifesto, we bring the Custom, specific moves For The People. Not like those other sites that bust out a bunch of vague bullsh*t and/or “PUA” theory that doesn’t do anyone any good.
Here is The Breakers Seafood Room Swoop Move:
1. So you got a fly girl in Palm Beach on hook. Set up the meeting for The Breakers Seafood Room at 9:30pm to 10:00pm. No need to rush. This isn’t The Police State of California. Full menu is served until 11:00pm. Smooth.
2. Roll in Custom Suited Down. Of course. What I will do, and you should too, is roll a little early. “Insta-lock™” the place. Get the waitresses and bartenders on lock. This way when the Palm Beach girl comes to meet you, and everyone knows your name, she will ask, “Wait, you are from California. How does everyone here know you?” Right here, the duck is cooked. And I am not talking about The Police State of California banning Foie Gras, either.
3. When she meets you, all high-heels and flowing dressed out, give the “two-kisses” greeting, as per usual. Settle in for a couple of cocktails. Maybe let her get a martini. But make sure she only has one.
4. “No-look” the menu, for style points. Keep in light and agile. Go with the oysters, shrimp cocktail, or crab cake. Keep in old-school. All are excellent. No need to f*ck around.
5. Bust out a Bone-Dry Sauvignon Blanc with the oysters. Invariably, she will say, “Shouldn’t we have the oysters with Chardonnay?” Correct her and go with a Bone-Dry Sauvignon Blanc. Power move. And she will thank you for schooling her to The Game.
6. Keep the cocktails pumping with the bartender you have on lock. You are sitting at the bar, right? Enjoy the aquarium bar counters and watch small fish and other marine life explore the coral stones.
7. Go outside for a smoke and check the ocean with her.
8. She won’t be able to resist kissing you with the moon shimming off the ocean.
9. Now the deal is really cooked.
10. If you want to “carry” her a few more rounds a la Manny Pacquiao, roll to Cucina with her for a little dancing. Any way you slice it, you are swooping.
And there you have it.
I have done this move with five different fly girls.
“I remember you in The Godfather. And I remember you beat up some guy with the garbage cans or whatever the story was, but you’re not a tough guy. You may think you’re a tough guy because you’re wacked out of your mind on coke, but you’re just an asshole in flip-flops.” – Jon Roberts to actor James Caan.
“I didn’t care if what I did was respected by society or not. My idea of a party was a bunch of Playboy Bunnies on Quaaludes in the back room of the Forge.” – Jon Roberts, American Desperado
“He made a new table for us in the middle of the restaurant, and we finished breakfast all by ourselves. I felt invincible. There I was, twenty-two, and I’d just f*cked James Bond’s girlfriend in the toilet.” – Jon Roberts
So I am chilling outside the Yoga class waiting for it to start and I am reading the most “un-Yoga” book of all time: American Desperado.
I am reading about how Jon Roberts, who you may know from Cocaine Cowboy’s Fame is talking about skinning people alive in Vietnam when a fly girl sits down next to me and says, “hello”. I am pseudo-startled and I was so entrenched in reading stories about the correct way to gut someone so their intestines popping out like “Jiffy Pop”.
So I roll into my first Yoga class. I have no idea what to wear to this gig so I go with the black wife beater, Wild Card Boxing Club t-shirt, Everlast hoodie and Quik boardshorts. You know, the height of Fashion for Yoga G Set. Or at least that is what I think it should be.
As I step into the arena, I mean, the waiting area, I see a fly girl that is as hot as the bullet that went into Abe Lincoln. So what do I do?
I go and sit next to her and say, “hello”.
She smiles and says “hello” back.
The atmosphere is very relaxed and subdued, but I get a good back and forth dialog going on with her. She can tell I am The G.
She is down. I will swoop her after class on the real.
I grab a spot in the back, just like when I was in school, because I have no idea what the f*ck is going on.
This was actually a good move because I can spock all the fly girls in the class. And it is basically all girls.
Minimal guys, only two others. The competition is non-existent. One guy is probably suspect and the other is softer than a soft serve cone in Venice Beach in August.
Street-hardened, well-traveled, International Playboys that survived The Extacsy Wonder Gang Wars, like your humble author, these guys are not.
We bust out the class, and I did pretty well actually. The fly girl teacher asks me, “Was that really your first class?”
When it ends, I feel great. I almost want to yell, “Let’s all get some cocktails and have a smoke!”, but I decide that it would be inappropriate in the Yoga Dojo.
Then the fly girl that I was talking to at the beginning of the class just gets up, rolls up her mat and splits.
This is a topic I am not at all unfamiliar with. In fact, cooking and swooping is a mainstay for me, especially when I am in places with weak nightlife like The California Police State. California also has the benefit of great ingredients for cooking, so it works all the way around.
Roosh busts out a little step by step:
1. Execute the move only on date two or beyond. A girl will most likely not accept you dinner date offer after only talking to you for an hour at the bar. For her to have a date in your house, a minimum of two face-to-face interactions must be achieved before she’ll want to come over.
2. You must have at least kissed and slightly groped her at the previous meeting. The move is done when the next logistical step is sex, which usually falls on date two or three. Otherwise what will happen is you waste the move to get no more than a kiss.
3. Pre-sell the date. If you’re at the end of a first date where kissing and touching has happened, say, “How about next time we do dinner at my place? I just learned how to cook a new dish.” She will be noncommittal, which is fine, because you’re just planting the seed so that she begins to accept the idea of coming over. There’s no need to iron out the exact time or date. Contact her in a couple days to make the plan.
4. Don’t start cooking until she arrives. There are two reasons for this. First, you want the cooking process to help you put in “face time” where she gets comfortable in your home. Second, you want her to start drinking while her stomach is empty so the booze (usually wine) has maximum effect. After eating, the alcohol will barely make a dent in her decision-making apparatus, so get her drinking as much as you can before the meal. Therefore it’s good to have meals that take at least one hour to prepare. To encourage drinking, try to stock your house with her booze preference, which you should know from your previous meetings with her.
5. Cook something you know. Don’t make the mistake I made several years ago by planning an elaborate three course meal that had me more focused on the food than the girl. It also showed that I was trying to impress her, which causes most American girls to lose attraction. Instead, cook a basic meal that is edible. If it’s pasta with Ragu sauce, then so be it. I usually cook rice with chicken and vegetables, a light meal that alcohol can punch through like a bulldozer. If she makes fun of you for such a simple dish, sarcastically apologize that you’re not a gourmet chef.
6. After dinner, get her on a surface where sex can occur. I like couches. It’s not hard to start banging there and then move to the bedroom. Many guys make the mistake of suggesting to watch a movie after dinner, but by the time it’s over she will have sobered up. Instead, put on The Weeknd, sit on the couch, talk, and then start kissing. After a bit of this, when you’re sure she’s aroused, get her straddled on top of you and start taking off her clothes (shirt and bra first). Have a condom already in your back pocket so that you don’t need to disturb the action by getting up to retrieve one. If you don’t have a couch, give her a “tour” of your room and put the music on there.
However, I don’t really “Pre-sell” the date. I just tell girls whats up. I call them up and tell them to come over because I am cheffing up a masterpiece. I always tell them to wear high heels as well. For aesthetic purposes.
Also, the whole “I usually cook rice with chicken and vegetables…If she makes fun of you for such a simple dish, sarcastically apologize that you’re not a gourmet chef.” doesn’t really fly in the circles I run in.
Maybe some free-range Roasted Chicken a la Zuni Cafe in San Francisco but that’s about it.
But here is what I bust out when I want to swoop fly high-end girls, The Shrimp and Linguine Swoop Move Recipe:
1. I usually start by popping a bottle of Spanish Red and bust out a quick Caprese Salad. (No need for the recipe here. Just get some fresh mozarella or burrata from the little Italian market down the street and some heirloom tomatoes, Sea Salt and fresh Basil. I usually use Grape Seed Oil in the place of Olive Oil for style points. You should look into it). I also usually strip down to the wife beater, for old-school style points, and I don’t want to splash any Olive Oil on my Custom Suits.
2. Make some Fresh Linguine. Save some of the Pasta Water. Throw on an old-school G Italian Track (for symmetry) to set the mood:
3. While the water is boiling for the Fresh Linguine, crisp up some Pancetta, Capicola or some Prosciutto di San Daniele. Or all three. Put it off to the side. Maybe throw on a Latin Track and dance with her for a minute so she feels the vibe:
4. By this point, she is probably ready to be swooped. And many times, I swoop girls at this point. If I want to “carry” my opponent a few more rounds, I will do this: In a pan, heat up some Extra Virgin Olive Oil, crushed Red Pepper and freshly minced garlic. Let it work it’s magic.
5. Throw in some Lemon Zest and let it infuse into the oil.
6. Throw in some Jumbo Shrimp. Now when I say “Jumbo Shrimp”, I don’t mean that wack Jumbo Shrimp they have in your hood. I am talking about Shrimp way bigger and fresher than you can get. The Shrimp I get, you have to have connects direct with local fisherman. Work on your connects and you can get to the level you need to be someday.
7. Rip up some Organic Basil and throw that into the mix holmes. Smell it. Enjoy an elegant high, fly pelican fly.
8. Spark up a smoke and take a big glup of Vino.
9. Toss in the Fresh Linguine you have already cooked with a little Pasta Water you saved from earlier.
10. Add a little Salt and Pepper to taste.
11. Throw it on a Plate.
12. Decorate plate with some more ripped Fresh Basil for color.
13. Crumble up the Pancetta, Capicola or some Prosciutto di San Daniele all over the Pasta and Shrimp. The colors are straight up Bellisimo.
14. Add a little Olive Oil.
15. Grate a little Fresh Parmesan.
Knock out punch.
If you make this dish and you can’t swoop the girl you are trying to swoop, Next her, because there is no way you are going to swoop her.
Wild Card Boxing Club, Hollywood, CA: It Ain’t Easy
“When I was a young fellow I was knocked down plenty. I wanted to stay down, but I couldn’t. I had to collect the two dollars for winning or go hungry. I had to get up. I was one of those hungry fighters. You could have hit me on the chin with a sledgehammer for five dollars. When you haven’t eaten for two days you’ll understand.” – Jack Dempsey
“I hated every minute of training, but I said, “Don’t quit. Suffer now and live the rest of your life as a champion.” – Muhammad Ali
I have to admit, there is some truth to that. Especially the swooping fly girls at Topless Beaches in summertime thing.
However, what many don’t know is that I usually take a month off from the difficult lifestyle of an International Playboy and get back to my roots. And when I say, “get back to my roots” I mean spending a month in Hollywood, in a small apartment, with no car, and go to The Wild Card Boxing Club, Hollywood, CA every day, all day.
I literally live on Vine Street. Minus a few trips to Beverly Hills to work on a little “project” I have going on. I did this in March and April this year.
I get real “street”. Every day I wake up go to the gym, chill for a while, then come back and workout or spar. I don’t wear Custom Suits until the weekend comes. And I swoop a little fly Mexicana girl I know from the hood some nights. Other nights I just stretch and read. Real soulful.
If you have never been to The Wild Card Boxing Club, the place is crazy. It’s small. It is about the size of four boxing rings (it has two boxing rings). There are about 100 people in there at any given time. The place has unbelievable characters. The intensity is off the charts. It is a straight up Madhouse.
But truth be told, I feel more at home in The Wild Card Boxing Club than almost anywhere in the world. I straight up love the place. It keeps me grounded. It keeps me humble. Freddie Roach might be the coolest cat in all of America. His MOM is a sweetheart. Pepper is funny as hell. All the regulars are cool as hell and are always helpful. All the pros are mad cool. Manny is The Man. The trainers are dope as hell. I love the energy and vibe. And even though I am basically at the bottom of the totem pole there (I am being humble as usual, I am really not at the bottom, more like a significant level below the Pros and real fighters), I do earn people’s Respect there, and that is really all that matters.
In fact, I think I will make at least a two week pilgrimage to The Wild Card Boxing Club for the rest of my life, no matter where on the globe my travels take me.
I probably won’t be going this summer to The Wild Card Boxing Club, but I do have plans to hit up another legendary boxing gym in another city. I typically do this when I travel.
Now that I think about this, this would be a great idea for a TV show: Have cameras follow me around the globe going to different Boxing Gyms. They could also follow me going to different tailors I know and get Custom Suits made. If it is a beachtown, I could bust some cutbacks and get shacked at some dope surf spots and swoop Topless girls at the Beach.
That would easily be the dopest show on TV. Maybe put it on HBO so we could show Topless girls. It’s kind of crazy that I just came up with this idea and no one else has.
I probably would want to wear a ski mask to keep me low profile.
I don’t want to jeopardize this whole “International Playboy thing” I got going on, after all.
Swooping fly girls at the 7-11, is just like mountain climbing: you have to put your time in.
What my old school crew and I would do is park the drop top Cadillac at our local 7-11 and just post up. Thankfully, there was a bar next door to our local 7-11 so girls would always come out of the bar to buy smokes or some crap.
We were just like crocodiles in wait for zebras, girls would come up and we would bite like the crocs do in The Gremeti River, Serengeti, Tanzania. “Crocodile Game” if you will.
Chronic Smokes and 40oz Dreams
In between girls rolling up, my crew and I would just chill, take monster hits of Chronic and take huge pulls of well concealed 40 oz bottles.
You would be surprised how many fly rich beach girls would open us with, “Do you have any more weed?”
Game on. Then we would just transform into the Original Game Spitta.
It amazes me how you hardly ever see young G’s chilling out in the open smoking Chronic and Drinking Malt Liquor any more. I really don’t know what is wrong with kids these days. Maybe it’s the video games. Maybe it’s Facebook. Who really knows?
Either way, if I saw kids posting, smoking and drinking at a 7-11 today, I would probably throw them on the pay roll and mold them for the future.
We can always use more International Playboys of The Apocalypse.
Anyways, I am starting to confuse myself.
Before I get too off track, here is a little story from back in the day when fly girls hit me on the Pager like my name was Stojaković to explain how it’s done:
I was chilling with my clicka at our local 7-11 smoking Chronic and drinking St. Ides when we saw a super fly girl get into an argument with her boyfriend outside the bar next door. It got pretty heated and the guy walked away in a huff.
The girl was older (about 27-28 I am guessing) and a mad fly blonde girl. Dressed to the nines.
The super fly girl rolled up to the 7-11 and she walked right past us and ignored my advances.
My homeboys were heckling me because I blew it. Or so they thought.
I just leaned back against the Cadillac and re-sparked up another Chronic Roach.
I could tell she was pretty heated from the argument with the guy earlier, but she had a very seductive and enchanting look in her eyes.
As I killed my Chronic Jay, she asked me with dilated pupils, “Do you have any more weed, I could really use some right now”.
Although we were all holding Chron (as always), I replied half jokingly since she dissed me earlier, “I do, but it is at my crib close by.”.
I thought she was going to laugh and diss me again, (keep in mind this girl was hotter than Venice Beach asphalt in summertime in a long form fitting dress and high heels) but she said, “Let’s go. Your driving.” and threw me her keys.
I looked at the keys: Porsche
Smooth. (And not one of those lame ones. A legit one. Payed for by her boyfriend no doubt).
I grabbed her hand and I replied, “Let’s roll” and started walking away while giving a wink to my crew who all were flabbergasted.
We rolled to the G-Spot, for a smoke session and swoop session. Illmatic.
Still maybe the best blower of my life. (And not to sound cocky or anything, but she has long competition to be measured up against, so to speak).
She needed me to drop her and her ride off, so we split.
As we pulled out of my block, I passed my friends rolling back from the 7-11 and gave them a loud honk as they gave me the “jealousy finger”.
We rolled a few miles into the sickest houses in the hood by the beach. I am talking don’t even step unless you have $3 mill min. (And that was in those days, nowadays, some go for $25 mill an up, of course).
We pulled up to a super sick crib and she said, “This is it…”
The cat has taken some heat on the Internet for his work and has plenty of doubters and haters (not unlike your humble author).
This guy has mad talent and is meeting a monstrous need in today’s media landscape . And when I say “meeting a monstrous need”, I mean like a coke dealer meets a monstrous need of a Hollywood Hills Mansion after party with 20 fly girls and 4 guys in attendance at 2:30 am.
His work is basically a flame that burns within the soul of The Modern Day International Playboy: its a complex overture that delves into the psyche of the male mind; part dazzling fantasy, part demonic nightmare, part vibrant dream, part jagged reality and he mixes it and puts it in a pot like Gumbo.
Hell, he is bringing to fruition an idea I have had for many years in grand royal style that I lacked the aptitude for. My version would be a little more Drug ridden, Crime Ridden, Cigarette smoked out, Boozed out, more Street and with the machine gun sound of the speed bag and clicking of the money counter as the soundscape, but that is neither E-tab dreams nor triple beams.
(Sometimes I really do wish I was born with talent for the camera or video camera instead of talent for Smoking, Drinking, Swooping fly girls, and separating people from their money. But then again, you can’t have it all.)
He has a new video called New York Episode 1.5 – Fails, extras & pick-up tips, peep it below.
First off, anything that can hold my attention for 10 minutes is in and of itself, astonishing. But more than that, it is really entertaining. And I think young cats getting into “The Life” can learn a lot from it. Furthermore, he plays up the “player on a budget” angle, which we all know has mass appeal like Guru of Gangstarr (RIP) said.
This video is all about Pick Up Failures. Watching this reminds me of myself as a young prototype G on the rise on the beaches of Southern California.
I have said it before and I will say it again, no one, and I mean no one has gotten rejected by girls more than me.
In this video Andrew Lindy breaks down rejection. He has fun with it. Bottom line, you have to love rejection.
To the young cats reading this, it really does make you stronger. Hell, I get rejected still all the time, and guess what? It is the funniest thing to me. Especially since I know that any girl that rejects me is making the biggest mistake of her life.
Straight up, if you take yourself too seriously, and you can’t have fun when you are swooping fly girls, then The International Playboy Lifestyle is not for you.