Georges “Rush” St. Pierre defeats Matt Hughes at UFC 79
Georges “Rush” St. Pierre dominates Matt Hughes and wins the interim UFC welterweight title at the Mandalay Bay Resort and Casino in Las Vegas. This was the third fight between the two. Hughes won the first by submission. St. Pierre won the second fight by TKO strikes.
In this fight, St. Pierre completely dominated Hughes by taking him down repeatedly and landing blows. He was finally able to submit Hughes with a painful arm bar in the second round.
Chuck “The Iceman” Liddell also defeated Wanderlei “The Axe Murderer” Silva by unanimous decision in three rounds in a good stand up striking match.
The Rest is Up to You…
Michael Porfirio Mason
AKA The Peoples Champ
AKA The 7th Prince
The Guide to Getting More out of Life http://www.thegmanifesto.com
(Want to see something in The G Manifesto? Send suggestions to thegmanifesto@yahoo.com)
Here are the first G Manifesto Awards. Keep in mind, these are places that I have been to in 2007. So don’t get mad if your local nightclub in Scranton doesn’t make the list.
Best International Nightlife City: Sydney, Australia. Sydney is benefiting from a robust economy and it is showing in its nightlife. Great selection of restaurants, nightclubs and fly International girls. Darling Harbor is weesh, but the rest of the spot is on point like a switchblade.
Best US Nightlife City: Miami Beach. New York is the obvious choice, but I feel New York has been falling off with the big clubs geared towards out of towners and corporate plastic. Miami Beach with its sensual energy, latin flavor and models makes it an obvious choice over Las Vegas.
Best Gentlemans Club City: Las Vegas. No question here.
Best Gentlemans Club: Spearmint Rhino, Las Vegas. Being a G here is like being a kid in a candy store. Better yet, it’s like being a fiend in a late ‘80’s DC crackhouse. My only regret is I don’t get to spend enough time in here because I usually peel girls out the spot so quick. But that is the whole purpose of going, right?
Best International Restaurant: El Bulli. Roses, Spain. The place is world class and Ferrán Adrià is in a class by himself. And that is saying a lot. Plus its location on the Costa Brava makes it easy to live the good life.
Best US Restaurant: Zuni Café. San Francisco, CA. A tough choice obviously, but Zuni Café’s simple cuisine is like angels crying on your tongue.
Best International Hotel: Alvear Palace Hotel, Buenos Aires. Pure Class.
Best US Hotel: Wynn Las Vegas. Another very tough decision. But Steve Wynn has made other hotels pale in comparison. The Casino aspect doesn’t hurt either.
Honorable mention: Gramercy Park Hotel. New York. Ian Schrager battles back against the overdone boutique hotel he created and wins.
Worst Hotel: Palms Hotel Casino. Never stayed, but The Palms is the most overrated Glam hotel in America. Terrible Clientele. The only redeeming quality is that it is a good place to swoop on B-Grade Celebrity’s girlfriends.
Best Boxer: “Pretty Boy” Floyd Mayweather Jr. Dusting off future Hall of Famer, Oscar De La Hoya in the richest prize fight in history and dismantling Ricky “The Hitman” Hatton earns Money Mayweather the top Honors.
Oscar De La Hoya Vs. Floyd Mayweather
Best Fight: Kelly “The Ghost” Pavlik VS Jermain “Bad Intentions” Taylor. Pavlik getting off the canvas to win the title makes this an easy choice. Everyone is looking forward to Kelly “The Ghost” Pavlik VS Jermain “Bad Intentions” Taylor II.
Best Movie: Cocaine Cowboys. Yeah, I know it came out in 2006, but most people saw it in 2007. If you haven’t yet seen it, buy it: Cocaine Cowboys.
Best Hip-Hop Album: None. Still waiting on Papoose’s The Nacirema Dream and Raekwon’s Only Built 4 Cuban Linx II. If I have to look back to 2006 then its AZ, The Format.
Best Hip-Hop Track: International Players Anthem (I Choose You) by UGK Featuring Outkast. Sure that track wasn’t that good and Willie Hutch’s “I Choose You” has been sampled before, but that sample is so sick that it is enough to win the honors in a weak Hip-Hop year. Pimp C, Rest in Peace.
UGK Ft Outkast – International Players Anthem (I Choose You)
Best Break out Hip-Hop Artist: Wale. Washington, D.C. I mentioned Wale back in 2006 on Nightlife Princesses. No one is busting the lyrical flows right now that Wale is. With his recent teaming with Mark Ronson, you are going to hear a lot of Wale in 2008.
Wale Nike Boots
Best International Nightclub: Hugo’s Lounge. King’s Cross. Sydney, Australia. You can smoke, its exclusive, great bathrooms for doing drugs (if that’s your thing) and fly International girls in dresses and high heels. What more do you want out of a Nightclub?
Best US Nightclub: Suite Lounge and Snatch. Miami Beach. I picked up too many models out of these spots to not consider it the best. Honorable mention: Mokai. Miami Beach.
Best International Race Track: The Flemington Racecourse, Melbourne, Victoria, Australia. I might be biased since I have good relations with the Chief Handicapper there.
Best US Race Track: The Del Mar Race Track. Hands down the best 6 weeks of the year in Southern California.
The Rest is Up to You…
Michael Porfirio Mason
AKA The Peoples Champ
AKA The 7th Prince
The Guide to Getting More out of Life http://www.thegmanifesto.com
(Want to see something in The G Manifesto? Send suggestions to thegmanifesto@yahoo.com)
Two dope pieces of artwork by Pablo Picasso and Brazil’s Candido Portinari were heisted Thursday from the Sao Paulo Art Museum (MASP) where they were on exhibition.
The (what seems to be very professional) thieves stole Picasso’s “Portrait of Suzanne Bloch,” painted in 1904, comes from Picasso’s blue period and has to be one of the most valuable pieces in the museum.
“O Lavrador de Cafe,” by Portinari was also heisted which depicts a coffee picker, was painted in 1939 and is one of the most renowned works by one of Brazil’s most famous painters. Portinari, is known for his “neo-realism” painting steez.
According to police, it took only three minutes for thieves to steal the oil-on-canvas paintings, which were exhibited in two different locations at the museum. The crime took place from 5:09 a.m. to 5:12 a.m. local time, although three security guards were at the spot at that time. Security cameras recorded the theft which I am sure are of poor quality.
The thieves used a hydraulic car jack to pry their way past the pull-down metal gate that protects the museum’s front entrance. Then, they smashed through two glass doors, probably using a crowbar, to get to the paintings on the second floor.
International Heistmen have been targeting Brazil’s museums lately. In February, artwork by Picasso, Henri Matisse, Salvador Dali and Claude Monet were taken from Chacara do Ceu Museum in Riode Janeiro. I have mentioned this trend before in Criminality in The Luxury Sector.
These paintings are valued at an estimated $100 million.
This had to be a “heist to order” job for a art collector because the paintings were in different rooms and thieves have tried to steal them before.
No one was hurt and it appears to be a very professional job. The quickness that the men did the job is remarkable. All in all a great result.
Seems like everyone, as 2007 comes to a close, thinks that they are a “player”. Everyone thinks they have Game. That is, until, they run into a True G and they get sent back down to the minor leagues. Let me breakdown a little story…
I rolled with my droog Hugo, AKA The Viper, to an Art Gallery Opening and we were slicing the spot up like imported Prosciutto di San Daniele, at a little Italian Market. We got pretty hungry so we decided to head over to Nobu (of course, I like the slabs more at Masa, but that’s neither Ankimo nor Otoro).
We walked into Nobu, silky and flamboyant, like a modern day Earl the Pearl and Clyde Frazier, only in Custom Italian Suits. Choking the joint like Sprewell. I was in a 2 button ETRO with side vents, inverted interior and ticket pocket, Gucci shirt, Prada tie, Brioni pocket square, Chrome Desert Eagle and Gucci loafers. Hugo was busting a chalk stripped Dolce and Gabbana suit, Cornealli shirt, I think, Zegna tie, Versace pocket square, Glock 17 and Prada shoes. Both of us had Bankrolls thicker than fog and green like a baby Praying Mantis. We both had more bullets than Elvin Hayes or Wes Unseld. And we were coming in Peace but we both brought a piece.
Public Enemy-he got game
As we cruised in, I said “hello” to some older cat who knew my dad from my dad’s Studio 54 days, left this one pro baseball player “hanging” on a high five that I have issues with, said “Hey Carnal” to this East Los ex-gangbanger-now playboy I am friends with, and gave a hug and a pound to my droog “Ian” who was at the bar with some Model Bird (I mentioned Ian before in How to Swoop girls and Influence People). Ian was freshly in town from Australia and seemed to be doing well.
Hugo and I gave two kisses greetings to the Asian hostess girls and took a seat at the sushi bar. We said “what up and konichiwa” to all the chefs and finally settled in.
I then noticed first, two super fly wealthy Mexican girls eyeing us. You know the type; dark hair, rich, beautiful; the kind of girls that date cartel guys or politicos. Or the kind of girls that have hermanos in the cartels or in politica. Or the kind of girls that at some point dated guys killed in cartel wars or politico rivalries. Or…you get the point. One was in a Nina Ricci dress, the other in a Chloe silk dress. Both dripping with jewelry, holding, I think, Bamford Ombre Crocodile Totes, and wearing, Valentino evening sandals.
I noticed second, that las chicas were in between two young pseudo “hot shot” plastic surgeons. You know the type; the kind of plastic surgeons that advertise in “party mags”. Which, turns out, is where Hugo recognized the plastic surgeons from. The plastic surgeons were dressed in suburban mall-bought sport coats, t-shirts, jeans and square toed shoes, probably Kenneth Coles, I am guessing. The height of fashion for the plastic surgeon set.
These guys probably thought they were on a major heist with these two fly Mexicana girls.
And they were, that is, at least until Hugo and I stepped into Nobu. These Plastic Surgeons might have been Board Certified by American Board of Plastic Surgery, but they were not Board Certified by The International Board of Game like your humble author and his loyal droog.
I then came up with a plan to get one of the girls outside, since they were sweating us like a sparring session at Gleason’s Gym. I put a cancer stick in my mouth and motioned to the exit so she could follow me outside. She smiled a pretty girl’s smile. And I haven’t seen a smile that pretty in a while.
I went outside and smoked my jack, shot a rack of “insurance policy” texts, but she never came.
When I re-entered Nobu, both girls were sitting down next to Hugo talking with him. My “come smoke outside move” didn’t work, but at least Hugo peeled the girls from the plastic surgeons. Peeled like a potato in Belfast. I sat in between las Chicas and the Plastico Surgeons, effectively “boxing” the Surgeons out. The top-shelf Spanish Game we were spitting didn’t hurt either.
The plastic surgeon guys paid their tab in defeat (which, I am sure was pretty hefty…run along and do some more breast augmentations, skippy). My friend Ian, at the bar, saw the whole swoop go down and was laughing hysterically.
The plastic surgeon guys then met up with a couple of buddies at the bar and were mad dogging Hugo and I for twisting their wigs back. I was praying they were not going to confront us, not because we couldn’t handle them (do me a favor), but because Ian has grown increasingly violent and is hyper-sensitive about disrespect.
Ian has even taken to shooting people inside nightclubs in Sydney and Melbourne (which, I reckon is the reason he is in America now, to let things cool out). I am God’s child, but sometimes I think Ian is employed by Satan. The last thing I needed was Ian to open up and spit abalone shells in Nobu, I have enough problems already. And swooping fly rich Latina girls isn’t one.
Thankfully, the plastic surgeons didn’t have the bottle to approach us and just left to lick their wounds. Smart move on their part (I guess they did learn something in medical school besides how to carve up women) as the night was still young. They don’t know how close they came.
Fat Joe ft. J Holiday – I Won’t Tell
Word of warning to plastic surgeon guy:
Don’t ever step to real G’s. Think about it, plastic surgeon guy, you have been spending your life studying, getting picked last on the basketball court as a kid, not in The Game, and not spitting Chess Pieces. Just because you now have a couple of C-notes to rub together, and an office staff of decent looking women idolizing you, doesn’t mean jack in the real world (this goes for “hot shot” lawyers too).
We (meaning G’s), on the other hand, have been out on the streets all our life, partying, dealing, heisting and come from long blood lines of cold hearted killers (Ian’s dad was friends with The Twins back in the day in Bethnal Green, Hugo comes from a long line of Latin politican/diplomat/killers, and your humble author, as I have mentioned before, is a child of an Irish and Spanish Revolutionaries.)
Those plastic surgeons need to take their Game around the corner to the Game Rehab.
Players Court Verdict: The plastic surgeons are Guilty on all counts of Faking the Funk.
I have said it before and I will say it again, that apart from Spanish wine, cigarettes, flash custom suits, and heisting drug dealers, what I love most is chopping apart plastic players (no pun intended) and heisting their girls.
Oh yeah, everything worked as planned with the rich Mexican girls…
The Rest is Up To You…
Michael Porfirio Mason
AKA The Peoples Champ
AKA Your Doctor when in Need
The Guide to Getting More Out of Life http://www.thegmanifesto.com
(Want to see something in The G Manifesto? Send suggestions to thegmanifesto@yahoo.com)
We have written many times in The G Manifesto how to break down the Gentleman’s Club into atoms and molecules. But, I still see prototype G’s making the same mistakes over and over. So, today we will go over The Top Ten Strip Club Mistakes to avoid:
1. Using Credit Cards. You shouldn’t use credit cards period. This is how Big Brother and The Illuminati track our mind, soul and body. So, it shouldn’t be a surprise that you should never use credit cards in a Gentleman club. There are so many reasons we don’t need to go into them all here. Not the least, what are you going to do with $500 in “Beaver Bucks” when you leave?
2. Focusing on one Exotic Dancer. This is one of the most common mistakes you see guys make in a Gentleman’s Club. Don’t get spooled up over one girl. You lose all your leverage. Any semi-successful business dealmaker will tell you that the key is to have multiple deals cooking at once. That’s Leverage. Gentleman’s Clubs are no different.
3. Long drawn out conversations. News just in, Exotic Dancers are hustlers. An argument could be made, that the best of the best are maybe even the female version of The G. A far-fetched argument, but an argument could be made none the less. The longer you get caught up in sob stories, or let them weave their magic (and I am not talking about that kind of Magic that I weave to turn two kilo’s into three, either), you are at a disadvantage. Stick and move (so to speak).
4. Calling it a “strip club”. Show some class. It’s a “Gentleman’s Club”. Marks go to strip clubs. G’s go to Gentleman’s Clubs.
Don’t be weesh. Sign up The G Manifesto Newsletter!
5. Not being suited down. And when I say, “suited down” I mean Suited properly, not some 9-5 suit that an accountant guy wears during some conference in Milwaukee. Wear something custom, flash and statement making. A 9-5 suit. (That is, 9pm to 5am). Let’s face it, most guys dress like buffoons these days. Old-school players are rolling over in their graves. (I don’t know if I have ever used the word “buffoon” before, but I can’t think of any other way to describe it.)
Styles P featuring Swizz Beatz “Blow Your Mind” (Uncensored)
6. Not bringing enough CASH or Bankroll. You never want to get involved in any maneuver undercapitalized, much less a Gentleman’s Club. Ever stepped into an illegal high stakes poker game with a small bankroll? Stepping into a Gentleman’s Club with a small bankroll is equally as stupid.
7. Spreading CASH around the wrong way. The wrong way is caring and showing emotion. Don’t be cheap and don’t act like you care. Exotic Dancers deserve a bottled water or some kind of weird, colorful shot when they get off stage. Some of those pole moves are tough. See if your civilian girlfriend can hang upside down on a pole and do a transfer into the splits.
8. Not locking bartenders, bouncers, waitresses and managers down. These people can be your allies or your enemies. Keep the wheels greased.
Side note: The female bartenders and waitresses can be some of the best leads in the joint.
9. Acting like every other guy. It’s a Gentleman’s Club, skippy, you didn’t sign something that says you have to tell the truth. You don’t have to use your real name either (it is not like her real name is Sapphire…right?). You don’t have to be yourself. Gentleman’s Clubs (and nightlife in general) are all about escapism. In fact, you are way better off not letting her know what you actually do for a living. If you want a girl to like you for your true Working Class Stiff self, find a civilian girl. Exotics like three types of guys: Losers, Gangsters, and International Playboy/Gs. Choose one.
Side note: Lower-end Exotics in weesh clubs like Bikers and Rockstars. (Thank goodness Rockstars haven’t really been a factor since The Beastie Boys destroyed them with “No Sleep Till Brooklyn”).
Beastie Boys- No Sleep till Brooklyn
10. No Dances. This kind of falls into #9. “Guy that gets dances, is guy that doesn’t get Exotic Dancers”- Famous International Playboy.
Four more. Top Ten Strip Club Mistakes made for a better title than Top Fourteen Strip Club Mistakes. You can appreciate that, right?
Smack that – Akon feat Eminem
11. No Gentleman’s Clubs in December. Unlike your humble author, most regular people in this world have weak immune systems for some reason (probably poor Genetic make-up) and in December germs are floating around like crazy. I don’t have Mysophobia or anything, but Nightclubs in general and Gentlemans Clubs in particular are incubators this time of year.
12. Rolling in a big group. Nothing says “mark” more than rolling to a Gentleman’s Club in a big group. Go for Dolo.
13. Not having a good reputation. And when I say “reputation” I mean sexual reputation. News that you regulated an Exotic spreads in the dressing room like Southern California Wildfires with Santa Ana Winds.
14. Not reading The G Manifesto. If you want to swoop Exotic Dancers read these:
