Anyone who reads The G Manifesto knows I don’t get impressed easily by modern day nightlife in general or modern day nightclubs in particular. Especially in America which has been on a heavy downward slide (in fact, if I was the owner of even some of the best American nightclubs I would commit suicide because of the pathetic product they are serving up). In Bogotá however there are a couple of places that impressed the hell out of me:
Andres Carne de Res
The New York Times called Andres Carne de Res “profound, spellbinding, beautiful, tumultuous, confusing and fattening all at once“. I am not sure about the “fattening” part, but it’s a pretty accurate description. Andres Carne de Res does that thing that seems to be impossible to do in America: combining a great restaurant with a great nightclub. Even more amazing is that is does both at the same time.
Here is how the place breaks down:
- Five or Six floors with a couple of “half floors”
- holds 1200 people ( I did some math in my gulliver and the place is clocking un-Godly dough)
- Way more girls than guys
- Insane meat grinds
- Great Service (It is incredible that this place even functions with all the mayhem and food service, but it does)
- Open super late
- Mindblowing energy levels
- Performace art
- Everyone, and I mean everyone is dancing non-stop
Fly girls, steaks served at all hours, crazy dancing? I think I found heaven on Earth.
(Side note: the original is outside the city in Chia. I didn’t go, but it is supposed to hold 3000 people. I can only imagine how dope that place is.)
Salto del Angel
Kind of similar to Andres Carne de Res only smaller and the food isn’t quite as good.
Insane Vibe, dancing and fly girls though.
Your life wouldn’t be complete without at least 20 nights in each of these places.
And swooping mass amounts of fly Colombianas while you are at it.
“Let your greatest cunning lie in covering up what looks like cunning”- Baltasar Gracián (Spanish Jesuit and baroque prose writer), 1601-1658
“Winning comes down to two things: Taking advantage of your opponents mistakes and perfect timing” – Michael John Mason VI (Father to son boxing advise when I was a young amateur)
This year, when I haven’t been traveling, I have been spending a bunch of time in Beverly Hills, working on some big “heists”, so to speak. So after Entering The Dragon at The Wildcard and a beautiful day at the Getty, I find myself at a Private Club in West Hollywood for dinner and drinks.
Here are the attendees at the dinner:
• Entertainment CEO, who I have never met
• Oscar nominated Producer, who I have met
• My friend in the Horse world and girlfriend
• My friend who works at big corporation putting it all together
• Some young Hollywood Actor, who I don’t know
• Hollywood stylist guy (British), who I don’t know
• Two Brazilian model girls, who came with Producer guy
• And Your humble author, AKA Your favorite International Playboy’s favorite International Playboy
It promises to be a pretty vague affair, and I have no real purpose being at the dinner, I was just invited by my friend, the corporate cat. It’s a meet and greet with a little biz on the agenda. You know, your typical Tableaux de mode turning into a Fête galante with potential to be a Bacchanale.
It should be noted that I feel slightly un-centered, possibly because of the fact that I completely out-gunned (so to speak) at this dinner, as almost everyone, save the girls, are more accomplished than I am (at least in a mainstream sense) and have longer dough. And it doesn’t exactly comfort me when I start having flashbacks of knuckle-ups “on the cobbles” with big Russian guys with bald heads and leather jackets, from a few weeks prior, either. It also should be noted that I have been increasingly been finding myself in these types of situations as I move up The Layer Cake of life.
However, I am dressed in a sick Custom Suit: jet black, peaked lapels, one-button, side vents and interior so crimson that if we were in South Central you might have thought I was Brim or Piru. Pocket Square the color of Colombian Blow.
The conversation at the table starts off cordial and loosens up as vino consumption is increased. I stay in the cut, and only add comments where necessary and when I can add value as I am well versed in many subjects these days (not bragging, just keeping it solid gold like 1oz American Eagle coins for you). Doing this keeps an air of mystery around me, and the table really starts coming around. Entertainment CEO double takes after I drop a few gems and asks me, “What is it that you do again?”
The Brazilian model girls take notice, which, of course, is not lost on me. Also, what is not lost on me is that the weesh Young Hollywood actor guys starts hating on me. Which, of course, I ignore and continue to stay in the seam.
Surprisingly, it is actually shaping up to be a great dinner; Entertainment CEO guy is running the show and is actually super cool, Oscar nominated Producer guy spins some good tails, my horse world friend and his girlfriend drop dimes, Stylist guy busts some hilarious tales that everyone loves, the Brazilian Girls are having fun and my corporate friend is gluing it all together. It is one of those rare occurrences:The whole table is gelling.
Well, maybe not Actor guy, as he is trying to “close talk” one of the Brazilian model girls (which is a weak move) but I notice her “body languageing” him away as I am busting out a story. I spit out a little Portuguese which the Brazilian Model girls love and the actor boy hates as he does not speak any.
Feeling good now, I drop some good lines:
I use the phrase, “like that guy from Wikileaks” multiple times, and even drop this one: “Oh you mean, Rahm Emanuel’s brother?” to check everyone as the discussion topics are a little too Hollywood-centric for my liking.
Since there is a lot of name dropping (albeit legitimate name dropping) going on, I comtemplate busting out my Wesley Snipes Story, but decide against it.
When Entertainment CEO guy asks me what I think of his favorite wine, I reply, “It is rich and decadent with seamless overtones of violets and homemade country jam, and it really has a Harmonious finish…” which sends the crowd wild. (Little did everyone at the table know, save my corporate friend, is that I always use that response when asked about the wine at dinners such as these.)
Hollywood stylist guy, throws out, “Who made your suit? It’s phenomenal…”
Entertainment CEO even shoots out a, “OK, that’s it, this is the best dinner I have been to all year!” after Stylist guy, who is a true raconteur tells another hilarious story (and I am not talking about those cats that made that dope movie Cocaine Cowboys either, or maybe I am).
“Camilla” the flyer of the two models, a true Beauty of monumentality and vulnerability, follows me for a smoke when actor boy is in the bathroom.
It’s on.
She starts asking me questions as I tell tales of Mediterranean courtyards and terraces and her vibe goes from romantic expectation to dreamy absorption to erotic playfulness quicker than a Samba dance at Carnaval.
We roll back to the table and the dinner is still frolicking along at a decent pace. Some owner and GM type cats roll by as well as plenty of West Coast style Hipster/Douchebag fusion types that Los Angeles is leading the world in producing these days. They are probably actors if I am hard pressed to guess.
Actor guy, vanquished, leaves in discomfiture with a couple of Hipster/Douchebag fusion types, I am presuming in search of Beaks.
Entertainment CEO has to go home to the wife and kids and the extravagant meal kind of breaks up. Some go to smoke weed, some merge with other tables, Camilla and I split for a drink.
Back at my dope hotel (which my horse world friend hooked me up at a discounted rate, I may add), Camilla plays the part of a young girl defending herself against Eros.
I play the part of Mischief and Repose.
Camilla and I sip a glass of wine and admire the sensuous textures of my suite: marble, fur, tile, silk, flesh…
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
Disclaimer: Some of the above characters are merged and/or changed to protect the innocent. And the guilty. But then again, if you have a brain, you knew that already.
Recently, I was at a Charity Gig during the Summer Blitz and separated a fly Mexican Girl dip with pretty lips and hips from her amigas as we were walking to the next venue. I popped my head into this dope lounge bar that I have on lockdown and saw one of my friends spinning that ill old-school soul and hip-hop sh*t on vinyl and suggested we stop by for a drink.
This move was two-fold: 1) We could hear some dope beats and enjoy some pro-bono cocktails and 2) I knew that the lounge had no cell phone service so when the friends of the fly Mexican girls were calling, they were going straight to voicemail.
This in turn, bought me a lot of time to spit Game and Swoop. Smooth.
Another benefit of knowing “no cell phone service” places is when you take a young American “text bonkers girl” to a restaurant, you can actually enjoy your Vino and apps (and I don’t mean Iphone apps either) in peace without the girls constantly Facebooking, Tweeting, BBMing or Texting.
Here are the 2nd G Manifesto Awards. The 1st G Manifesto Awards, are here: The G Manifesto Awards, The Best of 2007. I missed 2008 as I was busy swooping girls and had a little street War to contend with at the time. (Also check out the Outlook for 2008, where I was like the Nouriel Roubini of this Game s*it, of sorts).
Again, these Awards are places or things that I have been to or experienced in 2009. So don’t get itchy if your local nightclub in Cleveland doesn’t make the list.
Best Comeback City: New Orleans. My love affair with New Orleans is well documented. This year was the first year since Katrina where the swagger seemed to return. Do as a G does; visit often and drop CASH.
Best High-Action City: Tijuana, Mexico. I wouldn’t exactly call it a love affair with Tijuana, but I have spent mad time there and turned mad dollars there. The place is actually a lot safer now than the papers would lead you to believe.
Best Day Game City: Buenos Aires. The volume of fly girls for Street Game makes it hard to ignore.
Best Beach Locals: The Somali Pirates. These guys made the boys from The North Shore and The Bra Boys seem tame. They made mad dough, raged hard, protected their coast, swooped mad girls and even caused real estate bubbles in other countries. Hell, I have been seriously considering rolling down there and joining the fun. I wonder if there are some un-crowded points to be had to the brain?
Best International Restaurant: Restaurante Arzak in San Sebastian. Spain is really kicking out the best grinds right now. And Restaurante Arzak is top rank. I am frothing at the mouth thinking about it. Will be there again in May.
Best US Restaurant: Galatories. The best goddamn restaurant in America. I love how they even make President’s wait for a table.
Me?
I get top tier service.
Honorable Mention: Gramercy Tavern. I have to include this spot because of the first class treatment, pro-bono wine pours and the sweet breads. Nothing about it the meal was “so-so”, more like “fabuloso”. Additionally, I was politicking with this fly chick and digging her moves because she smooth and she choose to pay dues.
Best International Hotel: Four Seasons Hotel George V, Paris, France. Decadence since 1928. I really like the indoor pool surrounded by tromp l’oeil murals of the Versailles gardens.
Best US Hotel: The Waldorf Towers, New York. The one bedroom Grand suites with the separate entrance are style and elegance defined. They are not cheap (about 5k), but they really do pay for themselves.
Best Fight: Juan Manuel Marquez VS Juan Diaz. Marquez proves once again how he is The G in a come from behind devastating knockout of an 80’s baby.
Most Masterful Performance: Floyd Mayweather, Jr. VS Juan Manuel Marquez.
Best Blog: Roissy in DC. I would have said The G Manifesto, but that would have seemed rigged, right? In all seriousness, Roissy kicked out gem after gem almost every day of the year and truly transcended.
Best Forum: RooshV Forum. If you like traveling and swooping fly foreign girls, then this is your forum.
Best Hip-Hop Track: I Hate My Job, Cam’ron. Nothing captured 2009 better than Cam’s “recession rap” track when most American’s were coming out with a pitiful rookerful of money.
Funny too.
Ayo I’m lookin’ for a job, ain’t nobody hiring,
Then I ask the boss, “when y’all doin’ firing?”
Great sample from Barbara Mandrell’s “Sleeping Single In A Double Bed”.
Best Break out Hip-Hop Artist: No, not Asher Roth or Drake. It’s Black Milk. “Losing Out” was enough to do it.
Best Soul Track and Album: Maxwell – Pretty Wings and BLACKsummers’night. The cat was gone for eight years. No wonder this decade was terrible. Come to think of it, anyone seen D’Angelo?
Woman of The Year: Ashley Alexandra Dupré. It is truly amazing how this girl has kept her mouth shut (so to speak) for the entire year. She deserves all the props in the world, and a shining beacon of hope for her self-absorbed peers of her generation.
Honorable Mention: Sonia Sotomayor
G of the Year: Joaquín Guzmán Loera. No one did it bigger in 2009 than “El Chapo”. Untouchable like Elliot Ness. Hell, he even came in at #701 on Forbes’ list of richest people in the world with an estimated net worth of $2 billion. A low estimate if I have ever seen one.
If you are not familiar with Gary Vaynerchuck, he is a cat that took a family liquor store from $5 million in sales to $50 million in sales using the Internet and social media. He also got a 7 sticks book deal. Not bad in a Down Economy.
His book is basically about using your passion in life to make money. The book gives some great advice on exactly how to do that and build your personal brand using social media.
This is a pretty remarkable time we live in. Younger G’s should appreciate it. You really can become anything you want to these days. Manifesto Destiny.
Why you should by this book:
1. If you are unhappy with your job and you would like to do something that you love doing.
2. If you want to learn how to turn your passion into a money maker.
3. You want to learn whats going down in the world today.
Two hours from Barcelona, and a world away, lies the tiny wine region called Priorat. The remote rocky hills produce intense, full reds that many consider to be among Spain’s elite wines. The secret is in the slate filled soil, called llicorella in Catalan, and the extreme weather of the region. Grape vines on the roughly 4,000 acres of steep hills suffer hot dry summers and severe cold winters creating low yield grape vines that provide concentrated flavor. The region’s innovative winemakers have created a style that has become one of the hottest trends in wine. Continue
Haircut
I always like to get a haircut before Track Season starts. When you have spent the last 6 weeks swooping topless girls in Spain (La Cote des Basques and the Med) your hair tends to grow. Must be the Mediterranean diet. Or the Basque seafood. Or the vino tinto. (The G Manifesto’s How to Pick up Topless Girls coming soon)
Suits
Make sure you get plenty of new custom suits made. Light colors all. Signature Cookie Monster Blue interior. And get your Pocket Square Game Tight.
Zippos
Make sure all your Zippos, Dunhills, and Dupont lighters are filled to the brim and have good action. Bring a minimum 3 packs of smokes.
Drugs (Optional)
Beeks and Beans are still mad popular. As Bill Maher says, “People are doing as much Cocaine as they did in the 80’s. They just aren’t sharing it anymore.” Careful in this heat when you are on the beeks though.
Real Time with Bill Maher: New Rules – July 17 2009
Enter The Dragon
Get your rounds in. They will pay dividends. I would be lying to you if I didn’t tell you I am in amazing shape. (Getting slotted and swooping Topless girls will do that to you.) The G Manifesto’s Exit The Dragon, Enter The Cobra coming soon.
Heater
Breathe again. Because I don’t do extortion unless I am on the receiving end.
Turf Club
Make sure you get your Turf Club scenario ironed out. (I just got my re-upped membership in the mail). Or else you will be with the buffoons in the suspect Glittery Ed Hardy Shirts, looking like a nonce, drinking out of plastic with no air conditioning..
