The G Manifesto

Yoga Game Part Four: Yoga Swoop

“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”.

I say “Hello” back and continue reading.

The fly girl then says, “What are you reading?”

I am thinking to myself, “That is my line!”

And respond, “American Desperado, it’s pretty good”.

I put my book down and commence to Game spitting as I can tell it’s on. Although, who knows with these Yoga girls.

Class begins. It’s a “warm restorative class” so I definitely enjoy it.

I am waiting for the fly girl I was talking to before class to just get up and split, but she waits around for me to get all my stuff together.

We walk outside.

“Where do you live?”, I say.

“Just a few blocks that way”, she responds.

“Cool, I will walk you home”, I reply.

“Great”, says with a smile.

We roll towards her house, and I can tell that she is down. However, my Game is way subdued. Minimal aggression. If this was a girl I met at a club, I probably would have swooped her in Public by now.

But instead, I am just chilling, responding with a lot of “yeah, that is so cool” and “yeah, that is so beautiful”. I almost want to slap myself for being such a Yoga dork.

However, I get myself out of my Yoga stupor for a minute, and say, “You should come with me to Sushi on Saturday night”. She thinks that is a great idea.

I walk her to her condo and Number Crunch.

Fast forward to Saturday night.

I use the Three Point First Date Swoop Move to a T.

Finally. The Yoga Monkey is off my back.

There really is something to the Yoga thing.

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

Jeffrey Osborne – Stay With Me Tonight

Yoga Game Part Three: Changing Me

So I have been to about four of five of these Yoga classes so far. It’s pretty dope.

I haven’t swooped any girls yet, but the ratios are mindblowing and there have been some pretty fly girls.

I feel good from it, and it’s a pretty decent workout. I feel centered.

However, I kind of feel like this stuff is kind of making me a little “peace and love” which is a drastic change from my default gear of “Violence and Sex”.

I think I need to spar tomorrow to make sure this doesn’t change me too much.

Click Here for Roosh’s Day Bang: How To Casually Pick Up Girls During The Day

Click Here for The G Manifesto’s Free Gentleman’s Club Report

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

Jeffrey Osborne – On The Wings Of Love (1982)

Yoga Game Part One: First Class

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.

Class starts.

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.

What an airball.

Maybe I should have worn a Custom Suit to this gig and sparked up a smoke.

But I really think there is something to this Yoga stuff.

Click Here for Roosh’s Day Bang: How To Casually Pick Up Girls During The Day

Click Here for The G Manifesto’s Free Gentleman’s Club Report

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

midnight star – wet my whistle