Make sure you read that. I may come up with some more Core Game Principles for the people in a few days/weeks.
Recently, I crawled up out of that grave, wiping the dirt, cleaning my custom shirt. Type mysterious, like the mind behind pyramids.
Now I am operating on like four hours of sleep, pulling down heavy dough, and ripping and strangling nightspots, swooping dimes and cracking spines (of my rivals).
Make it happen today, life is so, so short.
“They say it’s lonely at the top, in whatever you do
You always gotta watch motherf*ckers around you
Nobody’s invincible, no plan is foolproof
We all must meet our moment of truth” – Guru
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
2010 turned out to be a pretty good year. Lots of travel, swooping, boxing, personal development, Money, Custom Suits, and swooping. As it should be.
Here are the Top Ten G Manifesto Posts of 2010:
Mardi Gras: The G Manifesto Way: “Mardi Gras is the flame that burns in the city’s soul, the elaborate overture that tells us what the city is all about. It’s a baroque fantasy, a vibrant flower, a circus, a nightmare, a temptation from the devil.” I would be lying if I didn’t say this was simply the best Data Sheet ever written on New Orleans in general and Mardi Gras specifically.
Buenos Aires and Beeks: Game sold through the narrative. Just a typical funny night in Buenos Aires.
Cracking The West Coast Hipster Girl Code: Go to the dopest block of the coolest hood in almost any city in the world and you will hear the dopest hoods say the same thing, “Sure, that guy Michael Mason, is an amazing International Playboy. One of the best. But he can only pick up high-end girls in top-shelf spots, wearing Custom Suits.” In this one I switch up speeds like Bruce Lee riding the Fuji in the movie.
The Salsa Swoop Move New moves from the newest Chambers of The G Manifesto. I have used this one tons since then.
Language Lessons: One of the best moves you can do to invest in yourself as an International Playboy. A Classic “Win-Win-Win-Win” scenario.
How to Win at The Kentucky Derby: Here I break down a little known move to the public that is has been going on ever since they first put horses on a racetrack and someone said, “I bet you that horse will win!”
Fame VS Game in Newport Beach: A all-time classic from my proto-type G years. The good old days. I almost became a musician.
Nightlife Generalship and Nightlife Princesses in Barcelona: I come up Aces on my first night in what seems to be many top notch International Playboy’s Waterloo: Barcelona. Deadly Game told through the narrative. One will learn more about Real Game from reading this than any $45,000 bootcamp taught by a weesh guy with multi-colore hair and glittery shirts. But you knew that already.
Las Vegas Broken Down to The Organic Compound: People constantly ask me, so I wrote this so I won’t be bothered anymore. The places I hang out in Las Vegas broken down in a very detailed manner that you will only find on The G Manifesto.
“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 tales, 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.
One of the downsides of being a jet-setting, International Playboy on the rise and on the move is you have to say goodbye to girls you have spent passionate nights with.
Saying goodbye to girls in and of itself is not too bad, what is bad is you have to deal with dramatic, tear-filled farewells in train stations, hotel lobbies, and airports. Not smooth.
One thing I have learned to minimize this hassle is to leave early in the morning. And I mean real early.
No matter how much a girl will miss you, if she is mad tired, the tear-filled Arrivederci will be avoided. As will be the potential tear drops, make up and snot on your Custom Made Suit.
So next time you swoop a fly girl, make your exit and say Peace, Au Revoir, Adios, Paalam, じゃまたね, Selamat tinggal, Dasvidania, Ciao, Tchau, or Uz drīz redzēšanos!, make sure you do it in the early am.
