Swooping Fly Girls in the Time of Cholera

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The words I am about to express:
They now have their own crowned goddess. - Leandro Diaz

IT WAS INEVITABLE: the scent of Aguila and Aguardiente always reminded me of the fate of unrequited love; as I cold kicked back in a dope Tapas bar in Cartagena, Colombia with a fly Costeña named Lilia. We were grinding croquetas de pescado and Lomo Roquefort, while she was drinking Coco con Limon.

And yes, I always stay crispy clean; I got style, finesse, plus a nifty lean, whenever I hit the scene down here.

We were the last ones in the restaurant and it seemed like it was about to close; when in walked a party of nine. I made a mental note that the restaurant staff kind of jumped to attention. One of the ladies in the party, asked for a cenicero and sparked up. I noticed this as odd since smoking is mostly eradicated in Cartagena. I jumped on the opportunity and asked for a cenicero as well. And I also sparked up.

As I smell the aromatic fumes of gold cyanide, I notice something peculiar about the party of nine now seated in the restaurant. The table consists of one cat, dressed in white linen from head to toe and 8 women. The cat has mad presence.

He gets up to go to the restroom passes by me and gives me a smile. A “Game recognizes Game” type situation if you will.

It is only after he returns to his seat that our camarera informs us that the cat is none other than Gabriel García Márquez.

Truth be told, even though my girl was more fly than any girl at Gabriel García Márquez’s table, I have to give the victory to him.

Table with eight girls?

Camareras jumping to his every move?

Allowing smoking?

80 years old and straight rolling Playboy style?

Gabriel García Márquez unanimous decision over Michael Porfirio Mason.

Honestly, I don’t mind taking a loss like that.

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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

Shakira - Lo Hecho Está Hecho

Manny Pacquiao VS Joshua Clottey Tale of the Tape

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Manny Pacquiao

Age: 31
Record: 50W (38 KO) - 3L (2 KO) - 2D
Rounds Boxed: 305
KO: 69.09%
Stance: Southpaw
Height: 5′6 1/2 / 169cm
Reach: 67″ / 170cm

Last 3 Fights:
2009-11-14 Miguel Cotto W TKO RD12
2009-05-02 Ricky Hatton W KO RD2
2008-12-06 Oscar Dela Hoya W RTD RD8

Joshua Clottey

Age: 32
Record: 35W (20 KO) - 3L (0 KO) - 0D
Rounds Boxed: 248
KO: 51.28%
Stance: Orthodox
Height: 5′8″ / 173cm
Reach: 70″ / 178cm

Last 3 Fights:
2009-06-13 Miguel Cotto L SD RD12
2008-08-02 Zab Judah W TD RD9
2008-04-03 Jose Luis Cruz W TKO RD5

Source

Pacquiao as an asserted favorite to retain his welterweight title. Currently, he has been installed as a -800 favorite to win. Clottey assumes the underdog role, going off at +500.

Don’t think this one is going to be easy for Pac Man. Fighters from Ghana are legit. Check out Azumah Nelson and Ike Quartey for the data sheets.

In fact, I think Clottey has a pretty good shot a winning this fight. His size, defense, chin, strength and toughness are going to give Pacquiao fits. It is still pretty difficult to envision Pac Man losing with the roll he is on. A roll not seen since Mike Tyson was steamrolling pre-Buster Douglas. And I don’t mean E-tabs either.

That being said, Clottey will need a knockout. There is no shot he will get a decision in this one with Manny Pacquiao VS Floyd Mayweather Jr. on the horizon.

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G Manifesto Hall of Fame member, Angelo Dundee on:

On what it was like working with Muhammad Ali:
“It was like going to a party every other day. It just was a tease, like I’ll give you a little insight. Everybody says Drew Brown. Drew Brown had met Muhammad in New York and then Muhammad comes back from New York and he’s training for a fight. He says, ‘Ang’—he’s training for the (Sonny) Liston fight—he says, ‘Ang, I’m bringing Drew Brown down here.’ I said, ‘What for?’. He said, ‘He makes me laugh.’ I said, ‘Okay!’”

Regarding his thoughts before Ali’s first fight with Sonny Liston:
“Muhammad felt that he was going to a party. Every fight was like that. Nothing ever bothered him. He wasn’t concerned about the guy. I kept telling Muhammad, ‘you’re bigger than this guy’, because people don’t realize Muhammad went from 182 to 212 pounds. He got bigger, he was a young kid. So when he got in the ring, I told him, ‘When you get in the middle of the ring, stand tall—and look down on the guy’. And Muhammad did exactly that and said, ‘I got you sucker.’, and this was the beginning of the fight.”

Regarding Ali’s victory over George Foreman:
“Well you know, when I heard I was going to be on your program—On the Ropes—I said to myself they’re going to ask me about the ropes in Zaire. (laughs) And I’m going to tell you, I tightened those stinking ropes at four o’clock in the afternoon but the fight wasn’t until 4am the next day. And you know what happened—the heat stretched the ropes. They were brand new hemp ropes. I didn’t want those ropes to be loose. People try to say that I designed the’ rope-a-dope’. I thought Muhammad was a dope to be on the ropes. If Foreman hit him with a forearm he would have went through the ropes. That ring was like six feet up in the air—he would have broke his back, the fight would have been all over but thank God it didn’t happen. He was so agile, and so quick, and so smart—he really did some good stuff.”

On whether Ali really asked him to stop the fight after the 14th round of the Thrilla in Manila:
“Muhammad always had a knack to suck it up. He came back to the corner and that documentary was a bunch of bologna because he came back to the corner and I said, ‘You got him baby! Get him out of there!’ This is the round they claimed I said he wanted it stopped. No, there was never any stop in Muhammad. I had to stop him that one time and it broke my heart to do it, but Muhammad wasn’t firing back. Muhammad always sucked something up; he had a knack of bringing it out and taking it to get the best of the other guy.”

On how he first started training Sugar Ray Leonard:
“The Olympic team was in New York and we were there, and Muhammad was around and he told Ray, ‘Hey! You want a good trainer? Get Angelo.’ That helped, but then when the group in Washington took him over they asked me if I would like to handle the kid. I told them I’d love to, and I got involved with Ray and he got out of the Olympics. I got along great with Ray. Then when we went to places like Providence and Boston, I made him an honorary Italian. (laughs) Hey listen! I showed him the proper way to twist spaghetti with a fork without using a spoon.”

Regarding the famous words he said to Leonard in between rounds during the Tommy Hearns fight—“You’re blowing it son”
“Boy, were those camera guys nice to me. They didn’t tape what I told him before ‘You’re blowing it kid’. (laughs) ‘You dumb, sorry you, what are you slowing down for, what are you doing, you’re fighting the guy’s fight’. Then when I was getting out of the ropes, I said ‘You’re blowing it kid’. Thank God they taped that.”

Regarding the current boxing landscape:
“I think Pacquiao and (Floyd) Mayweather will fight. I know the fans want to see that fight and if they have any kind of sense of humanity about it, either fighter, they should fight each other—just for the good of boxing. You know what? I want to go see that fight, that’s going to be a great fight. But you never know with fights. Pacquiao’s fighting (Joshua) Clottey. Clottey is a tough guy. You never know one night which fighter is going to win and it’s interesting because it’s one-on-one and to me it’s a kick to watch these guys. And I want to thank you guys for having me on the radio, because as long as you guys are talking that means we’re in action.”

Continue Reading

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

Manny Pacquiao vs Joshua Clottey

New Orleans Bans Ed Hardy

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Since I have been down in Cartagena, mass people tipped me off on the banning of Ed Hardy in a New Orleans Nightclub:

The idea came to Nick Thomas, Director of Programming, while watching the MTV show. “The whole thing is so funny because I was literally watching Jersey Shore in passing at 4 a.m. after being at Republic I thought, nothing would make me happier if not a single person dressed like this was in Republic. Then I thought, “Why can’t that be the rule?” The club put a flier on its window at Mardi Gras and the dress code spread across Twitpix which led to a mention on NPR. “It’s been well received because we have the best clientele, but I never thought the story would have this kind of national merit.”

Specific brands mentioned include No Affliction and Ed Hardy, but Thomas clarifies that, “The dress code isn’t limited to those brands, those are just the most obvious of the Jersey Shore-esque attire.” He includes “any other knock bedazzled tee shirts or hideous foil inks. The dress code isn’t about the brands, but the people that wear those brands. If a big beefy guy, over worked-out with way too much hair gel is copping an attitude at the door or anything within that realm, he’s not getting through. Ultimately if the clientelle in the club isn’t starting fights or disprespecting women, everyone in the venue can have a good time.”

In case you can’t see the photo clearly, it says: “If it’s on Jersey Shore it’s not coming through the door: No Affliction, No Ed Hardy, No Christian Audigier, No Exceptions.”

I love New Orleans.

Source

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Check out these other Ed Hardy data sheets:

Fuck Ed Hardy by Dirt Nasty, Andy Milonakis, and Rich Hill

Christian Audigier VS Ed Hardy: The Lawsuit

Ed Hardy Blacklisted by Vancouver Nightclubs

Ed Hardy, Christian Audigier and Michael Jackson

Wale disses Ed Hardy

Wale’s Elitaste disses Ed Hardy

Down Economy hurting Luxury Hotels

A Typical Tuesday Night in Southern California

Top Ten Reasons Why This Was The Worst Decade Ever

Don’t let it go to your head, Young G

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

Santana - Winning

Cracking The West Coast Hipster Girl Code

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I have said it before, and I will say it again: I have never been one to play a “big shot”, it’s just the styles I got, that keep my Game hot.

And I am a pretty humble cat. I readily admit where my Game has flaws. I have said before that my Tech Game is slack. And I have mentioned previously that my IPhone, Twitter and Facebook Game are sub-par. And I have admitted that my Text Message Game is a glaringly faulty.

Here is another area where I haven’t done as well as I thought I could have: Swooping Fly West Coast Hipster Girls.

Now, don’t get it twisted, I have swooped tons of these girls. Probably more than whomever the hell the top hipster guy is. Still, my resume is a little spotty, unlike say my track record VS Exotic Dancers or wealthy daughters of Eastern European Oligarchs or wealthy hijas of Latin Society. In those areas, my win-loss record is the stuff of legends. Kind of similar, to Rocky Marciano.

Anyways, being a patron of the arts, I went to this Hipster/Wimpster Art gig a few weeks back.

Instead of going with my usual Custom Suit wearing, Zippo Clacking, Thick Bankrolling self (which I diagnosed as one of my issues with swooping these girls) I decided to switch up speeds like Bruce Lee driving the Fuji in the movie.

As I got dressed for the gig, I threw on some plaid pants that I had Custom Made (think Drugstore Cowboy, not Fuzzy Zoeller), an argyle type sweater I picked up in Milan, and an Italian Leather Jacket I grabbed in London.

Keep in mind, I have no idea if this is how a hipster “male” dresses, but they were the only things in my wardrobe that were pseudo “hipster like”.

Fast forward to the Art gig.

I viddy a couple of young fly hipster girls smoking some grits and I use it as an opportunity to ask for a light even though I have two Dunhill lighters in my pocket.

They ask me what I do for a living.

I respond, “I am a solopreneur.”

They ask me where I live.

I say, “In those new condos in XXXXXXX, by that ‘Starchitect‘ named XXXXX XXXXXX.”

They ask where I got my plaid pants.

I don’t tell them I got them Custom made and simply respond, “Vintage”.

The two girls are digging my steez. Although, when one hipster girl pointed to a Wimpster guy and said, “I hate that guy, I ‘de-Friended’ him” and I responded, “You should twitter that”, they kind of looked at me funny.

Regardless, I invite the flyer of the two West Coast Hipster Girls over to the makeshift bar sponsored by some weird Vodka company at the art gig as the other West Coast Hipster girl starting talking to some Wimpster guy.

Things were going smooth.

I almost blew the whole heist though, when I pulled out a huge 4 G Bankroll out of my pocket to pay for the weird Acai Vodka and sodas.

The fly hipster girl looked at me strange, but in a heads up play, I quickly asked her, “Is this Vodka Artisanal?” “Or is it an organic farm to table free-range Vodka?” and got her off the subject of my cashroll.

After some more small talk, kissing her, more drinks, meeting a bunch of Wimpsters, a venue change and at one point, I even made myself cringe when I said, “I really have become a Locavore, of sorts…lately”. I finally maneuvered myself back to the fly hipster girls crib.

She said I could sleep on the couch.

By 3 am I was digging her out.

F*ck the Ghetto Bird.

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Cartagena data sheets coming soon. Till then, I will be getting mad shoulder rubs, drinking Aguila, shooting Aguardiente, putting together export deals, banging out salsa, grinding arepas con queso, all the while dressed in the lightest of fabrics.

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- Ur Gonna Love Me

Guest Manifesto: Sharp, Urban, and International

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Trends for 2010: The next decade will be won with custom suits, urban adaptability and international mobility.

“You might not always be the smartest, richest, or best looking person in a room—but you can be the Sharpest Dressed. Work on the things you can control. Believe me, if you know my Tailor you can be the best dressed in any room you step into.” - MPM

The custom suit can play many different roles and, chameleon-like, can mean different things in different situations. Retro or futuristic, subtle or outrageous, the suit is the ultimate in adaptability. Movie stars and rock stars, heroes and villains, philanthropists and gangsters - all these men and many, many more have dressed to impress.

Going suited down is the best way to avoid blending in with the “casual crowd”. Wearing a hand-rolled Borrelli tie or a flashy, flagrant and far from low-key pocket square by Etro will always separate you from the status quo. They say you never judge a book by its cover, but you do take someone more seriously when they are suitably attired. “If you are wearing a suit and tie, doors open for you. If you show up casual, you aren’t going to get into certain places.”

This trend is ripe for 2010. Adam King, co-owner of the bespoke suit company King & Allen in London, says he has seen a twenty per cent increase in first-time customers: “People who wouldn’t previously have worn a bespoke suit, or even a suit at all, are coming to us because they want to sharpen their image.” Custom shirts by Charvet and Tmoro Benson Leather shoes by Tod’s never hurt anyone, either.

Urban Environments

Economic growth depends on productivity, and the most productive people are often the most mobile. Every country, region and city is engaged in a global battle for talent. The most creative people can live more or less where they want. They therefore tend to pick places that offer not only material comfort but an upbeat atmosphere as well. This makes life more fun. It also fosters progress. When clever people cluster, they can bounce ideas off each other. This is why rents are so high in Manhattan (it is also why there has been a population surge in Singapore). Robert Lucas, a Nobel economics laureate, argues that the clustering of talent is the primary driver of economic growth By almost any measure, the larger a city’s population, the greater the innovation and wealth creation per person. This is unlike small town America, where low-density sprawl and unsophisticated employees suffocate the postindustrial economy. Place still matters in the modern day—and the competitive advantage of the world’s most successful cities is growing, not shrinking. This is a trend that’s on the rise.

A crucial contributory factor to the development of global cities is the arrival of new talent to replenish their energy (never underestimate the need to replenish: Always Drink Fresh Blood). In short, cities’ diverse economic and social structures are the true engines of growth.

The jostling of many different professions and different types of people, all in a dense environment, is an essential spur to innovation—to the creation of things that are truly new. And innovation, in the long run, is what keeps cities vital and relevant. Remember, if you don’t adapt you become extinct.

Internationalism at its finest

“You want to be “Worldly”. Know about current events. Get “inside information” Everyone, and I mean everyone, finds Travel and Foreign lands interesting. At least anyone you want to get to know.” - MPM

While there are no hard numbers, more Americans seem to be trying to qualify for additional passports. They want to make sure they have two passports based on nationality because there are numerous benefits. Among those is the ability to work without restriction in various countries, particularly with passports from countries in the E.U. Dual nationals are doing better than ever, especially now that the E.U. has grown in size and scope. Multiple passports are also a way of hiding where one has been, which has obvious advantages.

Anyone considering dual passports should think first of the tax consequences, though–you can get certain exemptions because you’re a U.S. citizen. However, given the high tax rates in the U.S., a full-blown conversion to another nationality wouldn’t be such a bad idea. International mobility goes hand in hand with capitalizing on urban environments, making travel a priority.

This leads to the Five Flags Theory (think of it as the original “4-Hour Workweek“). Perpetual travelers are those who live in such a way that they are not considered a legal resident of any of the countries in which they spend time. By lacking a legal permanent residence status, they seek to avoid the legal obligations that accompany residency, such as taxes on income. Macao is an innovative move, and Buenos Aires is an opportunity waiting to unfold.

Le Parvenue

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Papoose - You Made Your Choice

Sample:

Spinners - I’ll Be Around

Mardi Gras: The G Manifesto Way

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Lately, I have been getting a few emails basically asking:

“I know Mardi Gras isn’t exactly your steez, but I will happen to be in New Orleans during that time this year. What advice do you have for an Up and Coming G on the Rise for Mardi Gras?”

Great question. I am still around for you, keeping it underground for you.

Although Mardi Gras isn’t exactly my stilo, I have been in New Orleans during Mardi Gras before (It was a “work” trip, some Picayune Standover job, back when I used to work for The Barons, in case you wanted to know).

Now, truth be told, Mardi Gras is probably the best “big gig” in America. And although my love for New Orleans is well documented, “big gigs” are not really my Forté anymore. But as far as doing Mardi Gras up “G Style”, you have come to the right place.

Here is how to march through Mardi Gras like “The Second Line”:

Custom Suited Down

The Crescent City, being G Manifesto Turf, is a very Suit Friendly city. Being Suited Up in The City that Care Forgot is never more important than during Mardi Gras. One, you will be dressed doper than your competition. Two, fly girls will be all over you like a Mac Gloss sale at the Beverly Center. Third, and probably most importantly, being Suited Down in The Big Easy is like an all-access pass. This can come in real heavy when you need to cross parade lines and cut down on travel times when you are doing mad Day Swooping. Seriously, you won’t know how important this is until you are there. You can thank me later.

Ritz Carlton Hotel, New Orleans

The Ritz needs to be your Base of Operations during Mardi Gras. Think of it as your Roux. The location, just off Bourbon, is like the Galatoire’s Goute (Crab Maison, Shrimp Maison and Shrimp Remoulade) at Galatorie’s; nothing short of perfection. Furthermore, it is on the French Quarter side of Canal, which can be pivotal, so you don’t get stymied by parades.

The Ritz Lobby Bar is probably the most user friendly Lobby Bar in America. Do like I do; lock the entire place down: from the bartenders, to the waitresses, the general manager, to the bus boys, to the band, to the lounge singer, to the girl whipping up the Bananas Foster.

These days I walk around the Ritz lobby bar like I am some kind of half IRA, half ETA Le Roi. Mad Regal with une couronne, getting everything Lagniappe.

Gentleman’s Clubs

The Gentleman’s Clubs are where you are going to do your strongest work during Mardi Gras. Laissez le Bon temp rouler. Especially, during the early part of Mardi Gras week. To kick the fountain of youth*, the early part of Mardi Gras can be relatively mellow. Not unlike a regular night in The City beneath The Sea.

Bottom line, American’s don’t party as hard as say, the Spanish or the Brazilians. Sorry to debunk the whole myth that American’s party the hardest. We have really become a bunch of sissys in this country. Present company excluded. But that is neither Pascal’s Manale nor Suits by Canali.

Anyways, back to the Gentleman’s Clubs. I have written extensively on Swooping Exotic Dancers. Re-read The G Manifesto and follow to The Seventh Letter. You should do more than fine.

Some of my finest moments of Triomphe have happened in New Orleans Gentleman’s Clubs. Well, the activities that took place succeeding, anyway.

Way Down Yonder In New Orleans - Louis Armstrong

Bourbon Street, Street Game

My plans to conquer the streets are embedded in my head like the Mark of the Beast.

And when it comes to Bourbon Street Game, I was born with it, I am getting on with it, and I am gonna have it till I am f*cking Dead and Gone with it.

During the early part of Mardi Gras, Bourbon Street can be pretty dope. Keep in mind; you have to sift through a lot of girls to really find the quality. It’s similar to finding une babiole in some King Cake.

As far as all the beads and girls flashing?

Like Ice Cube once said, “I ain’t the one”. Although, I do have mad respect for the culture.

If you follow my tips, and you got the Mojo Bag, Gris-gris, spider dumpling, goofer, black cat bone, and John the Conqueroo, you should have plenty of topless girls back at The Ritz Carlton anyway.

Grinds

You definitely have to get your grind on heavy in “America’s Most Exotic City”. Hit all the main guns; Galatories, Felix’s, August, Café Du Monde, Deenies, Bayona etc.

But also make sure you hit up some of the grind sessions outside the Vieux Carré, like the crawfish boils. And get your Gumbo on. This is where knowing some local Exotic Dancers can really come in handy.

I have been known to go “missing” New Orleans: Miss New Orleans, Miss Louisiana, Miss Metarie, Miss St. Bernard Parish, Miss Chalmette etc.

But always keep your wits about you. One time I woke up in the Bayou covered in blood, a Johnny Favorite record playing on the phonograph, chicken’s feet and mad fans spinning. It was mad weird. Ruined my Ozwald Boateng with le violet, l’or and le vert interior.

Ma Rainey -Louisiana Hoo Doo Blues

Later in the week

During the Later part of Mardi Gras, things simply get too tumultuous and hectic. It could take 45 minutes just to walk from The Ritz to Rick’s Cabaret because of La foule. And your handmade shoes from London will get all scuffed up.

This is when posting up in the tranquil environs of The Ritz Lobby bar will really pay dividends. The Ritz Lobby Bar; a better investment than equities in 2010.

Krewes

If you really have Game, like your humble author, you will infiltrate the parties that The Krewes throw. It is always good to intermix some New Orleans aristocratic “Débutante girls” with a steady diet of Exotics.

So how do you infiltrate these parties and swoop these “Débutante girls”?

Do me a favor.

I have said it before, and I will say it again, for those data sheets, a publisher is going to have to come at me a la Vaynerchuck; seven figs min.

Pass a Good Time.

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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

*fountain of youth = Truth

Mother Love Bone - Chloe Dancer / Crown of Thorns

Buenos Aires and Beeks

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You are now about to witness the strength of street knowledge:

So, I roll around the lounge in Buenos Aires, Custom Suited down, Going for Dolo, working the “Transition Game” and spitting poison darts at fly Porteñas.

I am feeling sinister, kind of like a Donald Goines Novel. In short order, I have infiltrated a table of four fly Argentinean girls and two Argentinean cats. Two of the girls are beautiful, albeit they are too Hipster looking for my taste. If I want Hipster girls, I can just stay in New York City or Los Angeles.

The other two Porteñas are striking enough that I would contemplate dating either one for a month or two if we were America. But we are not in America.

Thankfully, the two non-Hipster girls are more into me, and they are so stunning that I feel my ears get pointy and my mouth starts salivating. But I remain calm and Tranquilo because I have been through this literally hundreds of times.

After a rapid fire pregunta y contesta session that I passed with flying colores, I go with a little of the old “absence makes the heart grow fonder” move and I get up and get another Goose and Soda. Which is really, kind of, an idiot move, since they are 10 times more expensive than a regular cocktail in BA. F*ck it though. I have been heisting a bunch lately, hit a trade on Wynn, and I need something stronger than Malbec, to levelize my dome piece after hitting a “street jay” hard with a couple of Porteñas and some guy they were with earlier.

After locking down the bartender, I head back to the table with the four girls but get intercepted by a Swedish cat that tells me to join his table. After seeing five fly Swedish Girls and just him and his Swedish buddy, I accept.

“Where are you from?” asks the second Swedish Cat in a thick Swedish Accent.

“Hollywood. Los Angeles.”, I answer.

I get the predictable, “Oh! Hollywood!”, “Los Angeles, I love LA!” type responses from everyone at the table.

And just like that, I am in. (Well, the Custom Suit might have had something to do with it, since it really did have an immaculate cut, and actually had an Elmo red interior. I also had the crimson Brioni Pocket square. Mad Flash and so much red you might have thought I was Brim or Piru.)

After peeting a bunch of cocktails in expeditious style, I could feel the buzz all through my gulliver.

The first Swedish cat then asks me, “Michael, how do you say “Cocaaine” in English?”

I kind of laugh and respond, “Umm…’Cocaine’ is how you say it.”

First Swedish guy then says, “No, I mean how do you say it in LA? The, how do you say, slang for ‘Cocaine’.”

I respond, “I guess…’Beeks’?”

“Beeks! Yes, Beeks. That is how you say it! Beeks!”, the Swedish guy kept yapping almost uncontrollably.

“That is what we need! We need Beeks! Beeks! Can you get Beaks?” he says in a frenzied manner that is all too familiar. (Although, I have never this sort of behavior from a Swedish cat in BA, so the whole thing was kind of novel.)

“Not sure.” I respond, laughing. I give him a “thumbs up” as well. (I always like to give foreign cats a “thumbs up” so they will think that’s how we do in America).

The Swedish guy then starts yelling, “Beeks! Beaks! Anyone have Beeks!?!” all across the lounge.

Gratefully, the music is so loud; no one can really hear the guy. And no one knows what “Beeks” are in BA.

Santa Maria (del Buen Ayre)

Either way, I spot two fly young Porteñas smoking jacks right outside the doorway of the lounge, and I have little faith that these Swedish guys will score any Beeks with their tactics.

Furthermore, I don’t think I even really want any Beeks. My night is going too fluidly to throw in any sort of scallywag behavior. (Although, I do like the word “scallywag”.)

Admittedly, I do think the weed I puffed earlier was relatively fuerte, because I was pretty amused and laughing at the way this Swedish cat kept on going bonkers about “Beaks!”

I excuse myself from the “Swedish Beeks” table, and then move to go join the girls outside for a jack.

As I roll through the doorway, one of the two fly girls rolls back inside leaving one fly girl smoking a grit.

Switch back to Spanish Game and introduce myself like the International Playboy of the Apocalypse that I am.

She says she her name is “Mariana”, which is a name I have a thing for. She says she grew up in Recoleta.

She says she likes this bar because it is in her neighborhood.

I feel the curious and prurient need to smoke two cigarettes at the same time.

I say I like this bar as well, because my hotel, the Alvear Palace Hotel is right nearby.

I hear the horns and percussion from a Curtis Mayfield song in my skull piece and I feel I am on top of Game’s Rushmore.

Mariana’s eyes start to dilate, she looks at me lasciviously, and I say, “

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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

Curtis Mayfield / Move On Up

Down Economy Money Making Move: Check The Couch

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Cartier Ballon Bleu Mens Yellow Gold Automatic Chronograph Watch

(Here is my Facebook, New Twitter and The G Manifesto Facebook Page)

I know many Americans are having trouble making money in The Down Economy.

If you have been swooping mad amounts of fly girls, and following The G Manifesto to The Seventh Letter, then here is a good money making Down Economy Move for you:

Just last night, before rolling out to a “biz meeting” of sorts, I decided to clean up my crib a little. (After my “reconnaissance mission” of sorts, I planned to get a few cocktails at this local Wimpster bar, and try and swoop some West Coast Hipster Girls.

After putting away the heaters, the balclavas, the Custom Suit with my signature Cookie Monster blue interior draped over an Eames Lounge Chair and Serial Killer Biographies, I checked the my main couch (a fine example of the French, Art Déco period, if I do say myself, although I am not an aficionado).

Here is what I found:

Two Female Watches, Two and a Half pairs of Diamond earrings, a Dunhill Lighter, a Dupont Lighter, Two Zippos, a half pack of grits, half a Bean, some Beeks and a Four G Roll that I must have misplaced during Del Mar Racetrack Season last year.

The lighters and CASH were mine.

Not sure about the Beaks and half Bean.

One pair of earrings was puro ($4,000 retail approx). One watch was junk. The other was a legit girls Rolex (retail $3500 approx). (I took it all to my fence today).

Not bad. About a $12,000 haul. Give or take a G.

So if you want to make some quick dough: Check The Couch.

Side note:

Cleaning the crib also paid dividends. Although I struck out with the West Coast Hipster Girls, I got a call from a fly girl I have been trying to swoop since the 12th grade.

And I hit that one out of the park.

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(Here’s hoping Roberto Delaurentis, a classy Italian guy, getting better from his hospital layover.)

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

Ice Cube Today was a Good Day Remix

Guest Manifesto: For the People Pt. II

Click Here for Guest Manifesto: For The People Part I

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Michael,

Hope all is well. I dropped a guest manifesto in Q3 2009, but would cherish the opportunity to provide your readership with some additional insight into my lifestyle. For example, the itinerary below represents a typical night in the life of a certified, card-carrying G, and for that matter, a typical night for me.

8pm: Break bread at Don Peppe in Ozone Park. Table for one. Sleeves rolled up. Wearing my napkin like a bib. The linguini manichiatta can shut down Rao’s. Lead walls make the cell reception tough. Fed bugs in the walls make my cell phone unnecessary.

9:30pm: Push the Vantage into Manhattan. I’m driving 40 in the fast lane. They can wait. Bumping Built Only 4 Cuban Linx. I’m in no rush.

10:30pm: Throw down chips at Cips downtown. Upstairs getting dap from select clientele (sheiks, shoguns, heads of state, high-ranking NATO officials, others). Don’t think I’ve ever even been downstairs.

10:35pm: Pour out a little Screaming Eagle for my lost soldiers. We miss you, Giuseppe. Come home soon.

12am: Catch mad texts from club-going elite. Avenue is apparently the spot tonight. But Real G’s don’t do champagne sparklers. Flickering lights make me think of squad cars.

12:20pm: Ultra-luxury subterranean poker room/gentleman’s club/cigar lounge located at [UNDISCLOSED] with Russian oligarchs and other high net worth bauces. Negotiating/bartering with Chris and Nick Candy for their spot in the Monaco. I want to close before Grand Prix.

12:45am: Play some poker. Catch the homie Oleg (Deripaska) on the river. I have some shorting to do on Monday.

1:30am: Dip to a lower east side (authentic) hipster nightspot and efficiently scoop a fly Asian bartender that I have been casually twisting for a few days.

2:30am: Black car into Brooklyn. Catch dome on the way. Driver doesn’t mind. Park and wait outside the park at PS 117 at Franklin and Willoughby. Have the driver fetch a quarter water, while a Sotheby’s night watchman delivers blueprints and briefs me on various security measures.

4:30am: Black car back to my Tribeca trap. T-bone steak, cheese, eggs, and Welcher’s grape. Actually, more like something from Eric Ripert. Or that pistachio and rosemary shrimp from Shun Li. And no Slugger, you’re not gonna find that one on the menu.

5am: Burn Swisher Sweets with the oriental in the rooftop jacuzzi. She looks like Chun Li from Street Fighter.

6am: I be digging her out

6:15am: I be kickin her out

7am: Count both blessings and ten crack commandments before laying head on trillion count Egyptian cotton. Burner under the pillow. Sleep with one eye open.

Rinse and Repeat.

King Jaffe

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Raekwon - Criminology

Alberto Tomba: Old-School Italian G

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I have said it before, and I will say it again, “I don’t really follow really any sports. I don’t care about football, baseball or basketball. I know Boxing, Martial Arts, and Horse Racing.”

But back when I was a little Baby G, and before I grew into an overly opinionated Super G, I remember watching the Winter Olympics.

I can recall, as clear as an azure sky in deepest winter, this one cat that made an impression on me, who had mad Style, Dash and Class. His name? Alberto Tomba.

When I wrote yesterday on Old-School Irish G, George Best, it jogged my Weed and E-Tab enhanced memory about Alberto Tomba.

So I decided to pull some data sheets on the cat.

Bottom line, he was pretty much the greatest skier of all time, swooped mad fly girls, partied heavy, and like all great athletes, of course, was a cigarette smoker.

Even as a baby G, I had a great eye for other G’s.

A Game recognizes Game situation, if you will. And I am not talking about Ed Hardy shirt wearing Mike “The Situation” either.

Tomba, along with typical scallywag behavior, also had a knack for dropping the verbals:

“I used to have a wild time with three women until 5 a.m., but I am getting older. In the Olympic Village here, I will live it up with five women, but only until 3 a.m.” -Alberto Tomba, on his training habits

Now that’s G. And truthfully, he breaks down exactly how you should train for all athletic endeavors.

Much respect to all those who came before us.

The whole thing is, there are many cats out there that claim “International Playboy“. But they are not students of the International Playboy lifestyle.

Me?

I am head of the class.

Alberto Tomba - Calgary 88 - 2a Manche Slalom Gigante Gattai

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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

Ricchi E Poveri - Acapulco