Several times I’ve stopped to think… why we do what we do?
I’ve lived an exquisite life… seen it all and done it all.
I’ve been to every city, every club, every restaurant, broke bread with made men, negotiated street mergers between rival sets, counted piles of cash that would make your accountant gasp and got deeper between more girl’s legs than Tampax.
But truth be told, not everything in my life has been peachy and glamorous.
I’ve seen some horrific things and persevered through tragedy.
Its strange to look back on the moments that have sculpted me as a man and as a G. To the layman, typically, tragedy makes you rethink your future course of life. However, for Gs and the like, that’s not the case.
I often ponder retirement and vacating the life after enormous scores. Am I wrong? Shouldn’t tragedy make me rethink my life???
For some strange reason, catastrophes inspire me. I don’t shed tears, I seize opportunities. I may be cold hearted but success is to blame.
I’ve ruined so many opportunities to court and wife up filthy rich princesses but when I look back, I don’t have regrets.
It would be extremely un-G for a female to tame me.
This is the life we chose and I’m engrained with that mentality. For a G, the goal of the game is constantly trade up.
Nothing is ever too much or too good. I’ve earned everything I have, never asked for help and kept everything in the air for so long that letting things fall into place seems preposterous.
Maybe my line of reasoning is out of whack but quitting The Life is akin to losing your senses…
No longer would I need to secure 3 exit routes before I check into a hotel or sit down at a restaurant. I certainly wouldn’t need to check if the bouncer is strapped before I enter a nightclub either. Quitting could ultimately change the way I socialize; I could talk more freely, use a cell phone, a credit card and maybe even my real name.
But even as I type these words, it’s hard for me to imagine life without thrills, the sensation of being envied and the feeling of cocking a chromed 4-4.
There is no question that time has made me more mature, confident and practical. But I don’t foresee myself shaking off the attributes that define me as a man and as a G. When I was younger, I was much more hot headed, had a short fuse, and would tussle with anyone. I had no reservations about strapping up with the eagles and throwing bullets like McNabb.
And although I’ve acquired more experience, understanding and appreciation for the life we lead, I know there is only one exit.
So while it would have been nice to settle down somewhere far away, gotten chubby and had kids… I’d rather know the end for certain than be plagued with what if’s forever.
Rick’s Cabaret to purchase Scores-Las Vegas club for $21 million
Rick’s Cabaret International Friday said it would buy Scores-Las Vegas for $21 million, a dope move it said would add 29 cents a share to its annual earnings.
Scores is a 23,000-square foot club of pure heaven (or maybe its hell, either way, it’s dope) located in Las Vegas.
Under the terms of the agreement, Rick’s will pay $16 million in cash and a $5 million convertible debenture (really a bargain if you think about it) that bears 4% interest. Rick’s will also get an option to buy the property on which the club is located (probably a good move).
The deal is expected to happen on June 10.
Shares of Ricks’s is up 83% over the past 52 weeks. I have been riding this stock since back in 2004 around the pre-Katrina days when I was chopping up Ricks New Orleans like the Texas Chainsaw Massacre. Or those cats that owned the Gemini Lounge.
Admit it, SUV’s are pretty obnoxious. They guzzle gas and perpetuate wars in the Middle East. Sports Utility Vehicles are also horrible for the environment. And you are not doing yourself any favors as far as style points are concerned, especially compared to vintage muscle cars, vintage Cadillacs and hell, even brand new Lacs.
Sure, SUV’s are necessary if you want to drive from Diego to Cabo San Lucas or if you need to shoot down to a Panamanian beach for a few low profile months. Or if you are rolling around a Cartel controlled Latin American city, bulletproofed down. But, if you all you do, is drive around the Suburbs, go to work and Starbucks, you are pretty much a jerkoff. Fair enough?
Tupac – Holla If Ya Hear Me (G Manifesto Certified Classic)
Here is another reason not to drive an SUV:
My little cousin, Mark Pablo Mason, is an up and coming baby G who lives in Washington DC, was recently was out west visiting colleges. He gave me a call and we met at Pink’s Hollywood for some Hot Dogs. We were both fresh on the scene, crispy and clean like Kentucky Fried Chicken and Irish Spring.
Like two Assassins in the height of fashion, we had young fly LA girls in SUV’s, peeping us as they rolled by. (Not really part of the story, but I just wanted to set the record straight in ‘08.)
As we ate Polish Pastrami swiss cheese dogs and choked down cigarettes (the lunch of champions), I asked him about what’s new on the baby G money making scheme front.
Mark had some pretty basic stuff to say, like bean flipping, standing over rival factions, making book, rigged dice games, swooping private school girls and socialites from a higher economic strata, arson for the Barons, small time heists etc. You know, typical baby G stuff. But then he got my attention with something, as it turns out, gave me some faith in the younger generation. Mad Innovative.
Mark went on to tell me he and his crew have been heisting catalytic converters from cars, primarily from SUV’s because of their height off the ground. He said he can heist a catalytic converter in with a socket wrench or cordless sawzall and be gone in 60 seconds. His crew is so quick, they can even wack them during the daylight. I knew immediately where he was going with this…
See, the commodity markets are very bullish these days. Metals prices have been on a sharp upswing. Catalytic converters (not to be sexist or anything, but for the girls out there, Catalytic converters are used to reduce the toxicity of emissions from your car’s engine) contain precious metals. Most importantly your Catalytic converter contains Rhodium, priced today at over $6000 an ounce. It also contains Platinum (and I don’t mean Platinum Diggers either), $1,200 an ounce and Palladium (and I don’t mean that 80’s Ian Schrager and Steve Rubell nightclub in NYC either) at $320 per ounce.
Mark and his crew would heist the catalytic converters and get paid up to $100 per, from the Barons upstairs. Cats also don’t have serial numbers on them, therefore, reducing the risk.
I thought this was interesting since I heard through the G grapevine about how some guys heisted an empty Fuel tanker and sold it for scrap. I also caught wind of Cats being heisted on the west coast, to be put on containers, headed for Japan.
Just one more reason not to drive your environmentally damaging, wack SUV.
Either way, since Mark is flush with CASH he paid for my Pink’s. I can’t remember the last time someone paid for my meal.
Kid has got some class. And the world’s future is safe, at least for the next generation of G’s.
After Pink’s we ran into a couple of the fly girls in a SUV at Fred Segal. They followed us to Chateau Marmont for some late afternoon Champagne. Worked out well into the night. We were driving a ’64 Lac. In case you wanted to know the data.
Heistmen wacked a jewelry store in Milan, Italy on Oscar night. The take: 20 Million.
A seven man crew dug a tunnel to the store from an adjacent building. The crew took advantage of the situation since the building next door was under construction.
The G’s were dressed in outfits from Guardia Finaza; the tax police in Italy, to get the drop on the jewelry stores employees.
The hoods then hit up the stores safe deposit boxes. The heist could have been for more, but many of the expensive pieces were being worn by starlets at the Oscars.
The robbers made an innovative move in hitting the store at a time when people would least expect it.
It is no secret that the US economy sucks right now. All kinds of Indices of Leading Economic indicators are falling. Residential Real estate is in a tail spin (except the extremely high-end market). We are seeing sharp drops in building permits. Consumer Confidence is low coupled with the number of initial claims for unemployment insurance rising. Orders for Durable Goods has dropped (the Durable Goods report being one of my favorite indicators). Crude Oil prices are constantly testing its all time record high. We have a credit crunch. The Chinese are killing us (and teaming up with the Euros). So is the War. The dollar is weesh. The best Stocks are trading sideways, hell, even the Casino Stocks are taking a hit.
Really, the only way for the economy to pull out of this is some kind of Internet 2.0 miracle. Or, foreign investors with deep pockets recapitalize the U.S. financial sector, which is already happening. (The G Manifesto’s Guide to The Top Ten ways to Make Money in a Down Economy coming soon…)
Whatever spin people want to put on it, and a lot of what you hear is politically motivated, the US Economy is getting “check hooked” like Ricky “The Hitman” Hatton in his fight with “Pretty Boy” Floyd.
(Side Note: Recently, I was at Bergdorf’s in NYC buying some pocket squares and some fly rich girls from Madrid were treating the place like a bargain basement sale because the dollar is so weak. Anyways, I made plans with them to have some drinks at Jean-Georges later that night…worked out well…in case you wanted to know.)
Anyways, enough of that, what we really want to know is How to Swoop Girls in a down economy. The good thing, is you have come to the right place, as I cut my teeth as a baby G in a down economy. So, what I am saying is, I got moves for days. These G maneuvers are especially good for up-and-coming G’s that might have their Sneaker Game straight but they Paper Game is lacking. Here are some:
Dive Bars
When you have a down economy, the high-end restaurants and nightclubs; that we have been putting up at a breakneck pace over the last few years, are not holding mad girls like they used to. Especially not on weekdays. I have done an unofficial case study and I have concluded that; when people have less money, people go to dive bars more. I just went to a dive bar the other night to test my theory and KO’ed it. I called it out before I went out, so I guess you could say I “Muhammad Ali’d” it. And believe it or not, I even went non-suited down.
(Side Note: In the plus column, the down economy has also lessened the number of “guy” out at night. Remember, even six months ago, when you walked into a restaurant you would see so many guys in multi-colored striped shirts you thought you were looking at an Ellsworth Kelly Painting? They are all gone now. The Nightlife World is literally Littered with the mangled Corpses of fake-players, just as I predicted it would.)
Part of the reason I went non-suited down was because I constantly have haters claiming things like, “That guy, Michael Mason, sure he can swoop girls at the high-end spots, but he can’t swoop girls unless he is in a $4500 suit…” and garbage like that.
Haters so easily forget, that when I was an up-and-coming prototype G, I was hip-hop-skate-graffiti artist fresh to def every day, all day. Versatile. Plus, I got the fat nine skills in bowling beach breaks. On point, on the points. Even better on the Mexican reefs, high on reefer. And I was a sneaker head before sneaker heads existed.
So anyways, I rolled into this dive bar, that I haven’t been to in like 8 years, and it has been taken over by hipsters more or less (dope dive bars have the tendency to be infiltrated by Hollywood hipsters nowadays. One of the reasons I haven’t been in a while. Blame that on that stupid movie “Swingers”.)
I was wearing a black and red Skeeem hooded sweatshirt, Tranquilo t-shirt (dopest clothing/ money laundering company ever), custom plaid slacks from my Italian tailor, and Muhammad Ali Adidas kicks. Kind of a Kanyeze-Ali-kickflip-beanflipper-fiendleaner-G steez with a New-school twist. If, you know what I mean.
Anyways, the competition in the Dive bar was so light it almost floated away like chronic smoke. Every girl in the spot was clocking me like the Swiss. I was dressed so fresh here, girls were looking at me like I was a young David Koresh here. And I was flipping new school Pimp Game, straight vicious, changing Missus names to “Delicious”, even granting a few wishes.
Goose and Sodas at $5? It was like drinking for free. Swooped the flyest girl in the spot, silencing critics like Money Mayweather. So wat cha sayin’?
Retail- Boutique Move
A good Day move, especially for West Coast Beach towns, is to bump around the beach like Johnny “Bump City” Bumphus in a drop top mint condition ’63 Cadillac. Roll up to a Beach sandwich shop, the kind with fly girls working there. You know the type of joint, the kind of place where every sandwich comes with Avocado or bean sprouts or some other healthy crap. Where, they got mad Acai smoothies. Order a sandwich, flash a big bankroll while paying for it and get the fly girls phone number that slapped it together for you.
Do Or Die-Po Pimp
Then slide the Lac, past the beach, cop a few more numbers from beach bunnies, say “What up” to the local heavies and then park the whip in front of a fresh girls clothing boutique (however, not an extremely high-end one where a Platinum Digger would shop). Even in a down economy, girls buy mad clothes on plastic. Post up in the Lac while eating the turkey-smoked cheddar-avocado sandwich and girls will sweat you coming in and out of the clothing boutique. Works every time.
Skate Board Moves
This is a great younger Prototype G move for the younger girl set (18-22 year olds). If you see a couple of fly girls kicking it, skate over near them and bust a sick trick. Something simple, like a kickflip or a stalefish air over a curb. Or a basic Varial. I used to bust a lot of Judo airs, Mute airs and Feeble Grinds in my day. Small Wheels and Baggy Jeans supreme. No need to get all Danny Way or my main man Sean Sheffey on it. Just bust a dope trick with style. Then introduce yourself. They will be down. Great opener. Also you can package this move with:
Sean Sheffey
Zig Zag Smoke
When I was a younger prototype G I used to twist Jays and puff wherever, whenever. I would play it like Sean Paul if you would gimme the light. The beach, the streets, the club, sitting on Dubs, didn’t matter. I am talking smoking. And my last name isn’t even Frazier. Nor is my first name Joe or Marvis.
More high-profile the better. I have done an unofficial case study and in down markets people puff more weed. So a classic move is to bust a slob air over a curb introduce yourself to the two fly girls and spark up a jay. They will introduce themselves to you. Word life.
