Broken Language and Unisex Bathroom Nightclub Move
Here is an innovative move:
A little while back I was in a very dope New York City Nightclub (I can’t say the name of the Club, I have a current beef with the owner and I don’t want to give him any extra press) that was holding mad Model Girls every night. Unfortunately, it was also holding model guy as well. But I have said it before and I will say it again, if you let model guy get in your way, then your problems don’t end there.
So, I was chopping up the spot like DeMarcus Corley or Mark Brandon Read, Going for Dolo in the VIP room. I was suited down, Blue Dior Homme suit by Kris Van Assche, Shirt by Duncan Quinn, Blue Hollow flower Pocket Square by Duncan Quinn, tie by Duncan Quinn, heater by Ruger and Shoes by Prada. Cuffs, diamond crushed, and plush. Pockets anabolic, and green like environmentalism. I was like frosting, you know, sitting on cake. The competition couldn’t see me like Stevie. So, it was no Wonder, I was the sharpest dressed cat in the litter.
I needed to go to the bathroom, well, not in a conventional sense, but anyways, I got in the line. It was a unisex bathroom and the line was kind of long. There were a couple of Scandinavian (I am guessing) model guys in front of me. One of them says something to me, I don’t remember what, nor was I really paying any attention (I never pay model guys much attention anyway).
Then, a beeked up fly Slovenian Model Girl, who we will call “Marusa” got behind me in line. She tapped me on my fresh fabrics and in Broken English, whispered in my ear, “You frieend (nodding to the model guy), eese he gaay?” I didn’t know at first what she was talking about since the model guy was far from my friend.
I guess because she saw me talking with him, she thought we knew each other. I asked her, “Why do you want to know if he is gay?”, still not really picking up on the purpose of this odd topic of conversation for bathroom line chatter. Slovenian Model Girl then said, “You freend is reelly hot, so… I want understand if he lieked girls”.
Smoothe da Hustler ft. Trigger tha Gambler – Broken Language
I then picked up on what was going down, and in a heads-up play, whispered back to her, “Yes, Sven is gay.” (I made up a name for model guy to give my lie more realism. Or who knows? I might have been telling the truth.)
Marusa didn’t seem fully convinced. She then asked me, “Arre you sure? Is hee at leeast half-gaay?” I really didn’t know what the hell she was talking about, Broken English and all, but I went with the flow and said, “No, Sven is not ‘half-gay’ he is completely gay, he only likes guys.”
Marusa seemed a little disappointed.
Finally, with Sven out of the way, I then introduced myself and started spitting Death Adder type, Venomous Game. I quickly ethered and hypnotized our beautiful young Slovenian Model Girl. I couldn’t really blame her, I was really feeling good that night. And my cufflinks were gleaming like the Belt of Orion during a clear night on a remote Panamanian Beach hideout.
It now was my turn to enter the unisex bathroom. I asked Marusa, “Do you want to come with me?” She replied, “Ya” (which means “yes”) in her beautiful Eastern European voice. So, we entered the unisex bathroom together…
There is a million ways to swoop girls. Choose one.
Kanye West – A Million And One Questions Freestyle
The Rest is Up to You…
Michael Porfirio Mason
AKA The Peoples Champ
AKA The Shovel, The Pit, and The Lye
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)
It seems everywhere you turn today there is an attack on our liberty to smoke. Even the fools in Hollywood have jumped into the game. Talk about a blow to artistic integrity. The hypocrisy of it all doesn’t sit well with me. Everyone seems to ignore the Social, Psychological, and Aesthetic benefits to smoking. I am convinced that anyone that is anti-smoking has never sat in a booth of a top shelf restaurant drinking Vino and smoking cigarettes with a Parisian Model Girl. Look into it. You will be pro-smoking too.
If I look back on my young life, my finest moments have consisted of a Custom Italian suit, a full-bodied red, a key to a penthouse suite in my pocket, a bankroll thick like Beyonce and Vida Guerra, a booth in a Michelin starred restaurant, a beautiful girl looking at me, hypnotized and a lit cigarette dangling from my mouth. Moments like those, are to me, what Life is all about (and of course what happens succeeding). The rest is just bullshit.
“Those who would give up essential liberty to purchase a little temporary safety deserve neither liberty nor safety.”
Benjamin Franklin
“There’s something luxurious about having a girl light your cigarette. In fact, I got married once on account of that.” ~Harold Robbins
“My rule of life prescribed as an absolutely sacred rite smoking cigars and also the drinking of alcohol before, after and if need be during all meals and in the intervals between them.” – Winston Churchill (Considered by many to be “The Greatest Man of the Twentieth Century”)
Monica Bellucci smoking
“A cigarette is the perfect type of a perfect pleasure. It is exquisite, and it leaves one unsatisfied. What more can one want?” ~Oscar Wilde, The Picture of Dorian Gray
Is it true that you smoke eight to ten cigars a day?
That’s true.
Is it true that you drink five martinis a day?
That’s true.
Is it true that you still surround yourself with beautiful young women?
That’s true.
What does your doctor say about all of this?
My doctor is dead.
– George Burns
“There’s nothing like tobacco; it is the passion of all decent men-a man who lives without tobacco does not deserve to live.”
Moliere
“The natural progress of things is for liberty to yield and government to gain ground.” – Thomas Jefferson
“The urge to save humanity is almost always a false front for the urge to rule.” – H.L. Mencken
Fly Model smokes
“There’s no way to rule innocent men. The only power any government has is the power to crack down on criminals. Well, when there aren’t enough criminals, one makes them. One declares so many things to be a crime that it becomes impossible to live without breaking laws.”
Ayn Rand, Atlas Shrugged
“I don’t know. Everything. Living. Smoking” – John Paul Sartre (answering the question “What is the most important thing in your life?”)
“When an opponent declares, ‘I will not come over to your side,’ I calmly say, ‘Your child belongs to us already… What are you? You will pass on. Your descendants, however, now stand in the new camp. In a short time they will know nothing else but this new community.’
– Adolf Hitler (The king of anti-smoking campaigns, about as bad as our current government)
“If alcohol is queen, then tobacco is her consort. It’s a fond companion for all occasions, a loyal friend through fair weather and foul. People smoke to celebrate a happy moment, or to hide a bitter regret. Whether you’re alone or with friends, it’s a joy for all the senses. What lovelier sight is there than that double row of white cigarettes, lined up like soldiers on parade and wrapped in silver paper? I love to touch the pack in my pocket, open it, savor the feel of the cigarette between my fingers, the paper on my lips, the taste of tobacco on my tongue. I love to watch the flame spurt up, love to watch it come closer and closer, filling me with its warmth.” luis bunuel
Model Smoking
Good food, good sex, good digestion, good sleep: to these basic animal pleasures, man has added nothing but the good cigarette. ~Mignon McLaughlin, The Second Neurotic’s Notebook, 1966
I used to smoke two packs a day and I just hate being a nonsmoker…. but I will never consider myself a nonsmoker because I always find smokers the most interesting people at the table. ~Michelle Pfeiffer
“Divine in hookas, glorious in a pipe
When tipp’d with amber, mellow, rich, and ripe;
Like other charmers, wooing the caress
More dazzlingly when daring in full dress;
Yet thy true lovers more admire by far
Thy naked beauties—give me a cigar!”
Lord Byron The Island . Canto ii. Stanza 19.
Penelope Cruz smoking
‘FUCK off.’ Kate Moss responds to an attendant who asked her to extinguish her cigarette at the Mario Testino exhibition at the National Portrait Gallery,
2 February 2002
‘I’VE BEEN doing some sums following the recent medical assertion that every fag you smoke costs you eleven minutes of your life. Let’s take somebody who is aged 100 and has smoked a modest ten a day since the age of 15. That’s 310,250 cigarettes or a total of 3,412,750 minutes of lost time. In more understandable terms, that means this person would have lived an extra six and a half years if he-she hadn’t ever smoked. My question is: would that be much of a bonus?’ Columnist James Whitaker, The Mirror, January 2000
‘OH, I LIKE smoking, I do. I smoke for my health, my mental health. Tobacco gives you little pauses, a rest from life. I don’t suppose anyone smoking a pipe would have road rage, would they?’ Artist David Hockney, Daily Telegraph, July 1999
‘IF I CANNOT smoke in heaven, then I shall not go.’ Mark Twain (1835-1910)
After a truly good meal, an outstanding cigar is still the most satisfying after-dinner activity that doesn’t involve two human beings. ~ Brad Shaw
“If your wife doesn’t like the aroma of your cigar, change your wife.”
Zino Davidoff
(Keep in mind that this Chamber of The G Manifesto refers primarily to Southern California Girls)
Recently, I was in Katsuya Hollywood throwing down some sushi and peeting some cold milky Sake Doburoku (moloko-plus) with one of my associates and peers, Hugo, AKA The Viper. We were trying to make up our rassoodocks what to do with the evening. I was suited down, in a porcupine quill sharp, Navy 2 button Ozwald Boateng Suit with custom accents, Cornflower Blue Prada shirt, sky blue stripped Zegna tie, Brioni pocket square, chrome Desert Eagle and handmade shoes from London. Hugo, was in a Gucci suit, shirt by, I think, Zegna, Armani tie, Dior pocket square, Glock 19 and Gucci slip-ons. Both of us had more shells than Adidas tops. Overall, I looked more refined than Hugo, although Hugo has been going to my tailor and I have to admit, his Gucci Suit was dope.
Anyways, the competition in Katsuya was soft as Tuna Belly, and we were the only G’s in the spot, so we were creating quite a stir with the Southern California actress girls. We had a chokehold on Katsuya Hollywood that even Scuba Steve would have found it hard to breathe in our League. One pretty fly blonde girl came up and gave Hugo her number, instead of me, but in my defense, the girl was sitting behind me and facing Hugo, so I don’t think she got a good look at my brutally handsome mug.
Regardless, Hugo and I got to talking about some of the similarities and differences between 90’s Girls and New Millennium Girls in Southern California, as we both have been extremely active in both decades. A subject, that I feel we are both aficionados, as we both have swooped girls from Malibu to Sunset Strip to The Beverly Center to Newport Beach to Laguna Beach to La Jolla to the border. And since “88, we have both been wildin’ with electrical tape.
Souls of Mischief – ’93 til infinity
Most top Playboys from the 90’s era are either; retired, married, locked up, balding, out of shape, insane, stuttering from too many E-Tabs, strung out, hit with a RICO, overdosed, or out The Game for one reason or another. And, most top Playboys from the New Millennium didn’t do too much damage or were too young during the 90’s to really make an impact.
So, here are some of our highlights from our conversation: (side note: this is potentially a very valuable data sheet for the guy was has been inactive for the greater part of the 00’s due to marriage and is now divorced and back on the scene. The Game has done changed.)
The 90’s Girl: Got pissed off when you turned on Porn when you were swooping her.
The New Millennium Girl: Gets pissed off if you don’t turn on Porn when you are swooping her.
The 90’s Girl: Dreamed about staying in Paris, France someday.
The New Millennium Girl: Dreams about staying at the Paris Casino in Las Vegas someday.
The 90’s Girl: Was trying E-Tabs for the first time.
The New Millennium Girl: Is trying cocaine for the 29th time.
The 90’s Girl: When getting ready for a night out, asked her girlfriends if her outfit is, “too slutty looking”.
The New Millennium Girl: When getting ready for a night out, asks her girlfriends if her outfit is “slutty looking enough”.
The 90’s Girl: Sometimes, she knew that Picasso was a very dope Spanish Painter/ Playboy.
The New Millennium Girl: Thinks that Picasso is a “stuffy” restaurant in The Bellagio in Las Vegas. But has no idea who the Chef is, nor has ever been. (fyi… it is Julian Serrano.)
The 90’s Girl: Was considered a pioneer among her friends for getting a breast augmentation.
The New Millennium Girl: Is an outcast among her friends for not getting a breast augmentation sooner.
The 90’s Girl: Thought that Washington, DC is some place near Seattle.
The New Millennium Girl: Thinks Washington, DC is some place near Seattle.
The 90’s Girl: Was first exposed to Hip-Hop from Snoop Doggy Dogg with Dr. Dre on production.
Dr. Dre, Snoop Dogg – Nuthin’ But A G Thang (Uncensored)
The New Millennium Girl: Was first exposed to Hip-hop from Snoop Dogg with Pharrell or Akon on production.
snoop dog ft pharell – beautiful
The 90’s Girl: Generally speaking, would have never consider doing porn.
The New Millennium Girl: Generally speaking, has already considered doing porn or has already done a few porn scenes.
The 90’s Girl: Thought that maybe she could be the first Girl President.
The New Millennium Girl: Now all she cares about is Dead Presidents.
The 90’s Girl: Knew Puff as Puff.
The New Millennium Girl: Knows Puff as P-Diddy.
The 90’s Girl: Thought about getting her lip pierced for the first time.
The New Millennium Girl: Thinking about getting her clit pierced for the second time.
The 90’s Girl: If white, couldn’t believe OJ Simpson got off.
The New Millennium Girl: If white, doesn’t know who OJ Simpson is.
The 90’s Girl: Wanted to get her first tattoo.
The New Millennium Girl: Wants to get her 3rd to 30th tattoo.
The 90’s Girl: Used to run track back in High School.
The New Millennium Girl: Now she tricks off the track right by her school.
Tupac, Brenda’s Got A Baby
The 90’s Girl: Said, “Oh-my-God” way too much.
The New Millennium Girl: Actually says “O-M-G”. (Seriously, I have heard New Millennium Girls say this.)
The 90’s Girl: Let you take naked pictures of her. (not like this was my kind of thing, I have way too much respect for women)
The New Millennium Girl: Still lets you take naked pictures of her. But occasionally says “you are not going to put these on the Internet are you?” (The Internet Objection). Or sometimes, she lets you take naked pictures of her (and has her poses down) in hopes that they will end up on the Internet to further her “career”.
Tupac, Keep Ya Head Up
The 90’s Girl: Loved G’s that looked like a young Andy Garcia, like your humble author.
The New Millennium Girl: Doesn’t know who Andy Garcia is, but still loves your humble author who still looks like a young Andy Garcia.
The 90’s Girl: Cheated on her boyfriend and slept with you on first date most times.
The New Millennium Girl: Cheats on her boyfriend and sleeps with you on first date all the time.
The 90’s Girl: Contemplated having a Ménage a Trios for the first time.
The 90’s Girl: Thought she was being experimental and forward thinking by kissing her girlfriend in a bar.
The New Millennium Girl: Is full on bi-sexual.
The 90’s Girl: Sometimes would make a half-hearted offer to pay for dinner.
The New Millennium Girl: Never offers to pay for dinner (side note: this is one reason the New Millennium Gigolo is very rare. For the record, The Gigolo is a significantly different breed than The G.)
The 90’s Girl: Feminine Grooming habits were a surprise every time.
The New Millennium Girl: Feminine Grooming habits taken from Porn Stars.
The 90’s Girl: Would sometimes appreciate etiquette such as opening a door, or pulling out a chair for her.
The New Millennium Girl: Doesn’t expect any etiquette, and wonders why in the world you would open a door or pull out a chair for her.
wyclef jean with lil wayne and akon,sweetest girl
The 90’s Girl: Loved the young, dashing, millionaire, jet-setting International Playboy/G on the rise.
The New Millennium Girl: Loves the young, dashing, millionaire, jet-setting International Playboy/G on the rise.
I guess, as much as things change, they stay the same. By the way, the Kampachi sashimi was pretty decent at Katsuya Hollywood and the night worked out pretty well…Hugo and I took two Waitresses to Go….
Defeating the Nightclub DJ (or the Club Owner, bouncer, bartender guy, etc.)
In the life of a G (or commonly referred to as “The Life”), you will run into competition constantly. This competition will come in the form of business mogul guy, Sport Star guy, Musician guy, phony player guy, mortgage broker guy (actually, they might be extinct), investment banker guy, hedge fund guy, regular guy and of course, other G’s and International Playboys. You will also run into “nightlife workers”, that can at times, give you fits.
The nightclub DJ, the Club Owner, nightclub managers, bouncers and even the occasional bartender guy are characters that are typically, all up in The Game and don’t deserve to be a player. Personally, I have a problem with these guys because if they can play their cards right, they can swoop a lot of fly girls with minimal effort. Fly girls come to their place of work every night. How easy is that? This is in sharp contrast to your humble author, who has to use his wits, charm, skills, dope word play, style, technique and innovative maneuvers to get Fly Girls. In short, I have to use Game. It’s not like I can give my number to some fly teller girl on a Heist, right? (Although, I was tempted once.)
The Nightclub Worker gets a lot of fly girls by doing jackshit. Girls today, are so misinformed, that they actually think these guys are “so cool”. And truth be told, not many of these guys have true Game. Witness the “so cool” Club Owner guy when his Nightclub goes out of biz (and it will). The “so cool” Club Owner guy now couldn’t get a girl if his life depended on it. His “game” goes out the window with his Nightclub.
Personal jealousy’s aside, I do have many friends in the nightclub world. I have many friends that are dope DJ’s, hell, my little brother Nicholas Alfonso Mason, AKA The Jaguar, is a prototype up and coming DJ/International Playboy/G. And I am friends with many Club Owners. But the vast majority of nightlife workers are backstabbers. Meaning that, when you are not looking, or not on your Game, they will try to swoop on any fly girl you are swooping on. Thankfully, they are wasting their breath on girls I roll with, because my Game is so strong. But still, it is an issue of etiquette and respect for me.
The OJAY’s Back Stabbers
So, Kick back, light up a smoke, pour a Goose and Soda, and let me tell you a little story about how to defeat these guys and break down their whole structure, Oh my Brothers:
There is this very well known Club DJ that we will call “DJ Super Magnetic” (not his real name, but you do know who this guy is, he is pretty famous) who really fancied himself as some kind of pseudo-playboy. And DJ Super Magnetic is much better than your average, he does have some KO’s of some high-profile actress girls on his record. He is a top notch DJ, and spins dope cuts (although his scratching skills are way below par in my opinion), so I would always say “what up” to him and give him a pound when I entered the spot and often introduced the girl I was with to him. I noticed out of the corner of my eye on a couple of occasions that he would try to get the phone number of the girl I was with. Sneaky bastard. Putting holes in his manners. So I figured I would set a little trap for our little friend DJ Super Magnetic.
Let me take a step back:
I had recently swooped a very fly girl named “Dana” out from under a Trust Fund Playboy (TFP is what we call them in the industry) I knew named “Chris”. I had originally met Dana when I was cutting up Celler de Can Roca and El Bulli in Spain. Dana was a sometimes model/ Nightlife Princess with some decent pedigree and healthy poitrine. Her Mom was a relatively famous Model and her dad was a well known photographer. Dana, however, was as crazy as she was fly. Which means she was mad crazy because she was crazy fly.
One day, I was chilling with my friend Nikolai, AKA The Cobra, at the beach with a bunch of associates. Chris pulls up in his brand new Jaguar. At this point, I thought that the whole “swooping Dana from Chris thing” was top secret so I didn’t think he would make a move on me. See, Chris is from, I think, Brentwood or Beverly Hills or something. And I was born in a City post-MLK Jr. Riots in a Blue Magic Heroin chokehold only soon to become a Crack War Cauldron, so it wasn’t like we were in the same “weightclass” anyway. Rayful Edmond III was running the other side of the City. I was also a key player in the days of The Ecstasy Wonder Gangs, in case you didn’t know. Plus, I was with Nikolai, who has connections up the kazoo with the Eastern Block outfits, so I knew Chris wouldn’t make a move. Chris might be a Trust Fund Jerkoff, but he is no dummy.
I then noticed, that Chris’ Jaguar has been “keyed” up and down the side (and I don’t mean “keybumps” either). Keyed real bad. Chris points to his Jaguar, pats me on the back, says “Dana did this, G” and winks at me. I was going to get pissed off a Chris for touching my linen, but I had to give it up to him for his show of class. He knew The Game, he knew his girl just chose me.
At this point, I knew I had to offload “Dangerous Dana” as quickly as possible. Quicker than sitting on hot keys in a Ramada. Understand, that my Cadillac with Candy paint looked fresh without any scratches. So I got an idea.
8ball & mjg – just like candy
I called Dangerous Dana and told her I would take her out to the Nightclub where DJ Magnetic spun. She was of course, smitten (who could blame her?). We then rolled into the spot (I don’t have to tell you I skipped the line, do I?) and we got a couple of drinks. Goose, soda, lime for me, something retarded for her.
I was in an ice pick sharp, black two button Paul Smith with side vents, Lilac Prada shirt, Duncan Quinn pocket square, Chrome Desert Eagle and Prada shoes, understated yet illmatic. My pockets on creatine and green like a bunch of fresh basil. Dana was in a red Roberto Cavalli V-Neck dress, Christian Louboutin Satin d’Oray sandals, I think, and holding a Birkin Bag, looking like some kind of slightly less ill Hillary Rhoda. She looked incredibly fly, flawless even, but truth be told, I probably looked doper than her.
Anyway, I then introduced her to DJ Super Magnetic. I saw DJ Super Magnetic was up to his old tricks, trying to swoop Dana, and who could really blame him? Dana was extremely easy on the eyes and probably the flyest girl in the spot. I left her by the DJ booth and Number Crunched for a little bit. Pretty successful Number Crunching session I must say, but that is neither Ruger nor Luger.
When I came back to where Magnetic and Dana were, I said to her “I have an emergency and need to go. Why don’t you just stay?” She said, “Are you sure you don’t want me to come with you?” not very enthusiastically. I said, “No, have fun, let’s talk later.” As I was leaving, I looked back to see Dana in the DJ booth dancing with Magnetic (and she could dance, especially for a white girl). The trap was set, and I am not even from the ATL, either.
It actually took longer than I thought for the trap to spring on DJ Magnetic. But when it did, it was better than I had envisioned. See, DJ Magnetic and Dana started dating. She was up in the booth with him kissing and dancing every night, you know, typical DJ game (or so I heard, I stopped going to that spot, it was getting wacker by the night).
Then two months later, their relationship crumbled. Dana got sick of DJ Magnetic’s faux-playboy ways. And, truthfully, his game was pretty weak. This time, Dana really out did herflyself. She torched DJ Magnetic’s mint condition drop top 1961 Lincoln Continental with Suicide doors. Checkmate and toe tagged. Michael Mason -1, DJ Super Magnetic -0.
Eazy E – Real Muthaphuckkin “G”s (explicit version)
Later, when I ran into DJ Magnetic, he also had scratches on his face and a black eye. Better him than me. You should know by now, I play the Devil’s Advocate and if you play me sideways I am not having it. Don’t feel bad for DJ Magnetic, in fact, he could count himself lucky I didn’t spit things that left him hollow with a chrome nozzle.
Side Note:
You can also do the above move to Club Owners, club managers, bouncers and bartender guy when they try to step into the ring. And I have.
I have been getting tons of emails lately such as, “What is the Best Halloween Costume for a G to wear?” or something to the tune of “I am going to a sick Halloween gig this year, what is the best costume?” Decent questions, all in all. I am going to go out on a limb and assume that when people say “Best” they mean the “Best Halloween Costume to Pick up Girls in”. Fair enough?
Now, keep in mind, I don’t really go out on Halloween anymore and I have mentioned this before in: Halloween Parties and Vampire Naps. To be quite honest, I don’t really go out on Holidays at all. Too many cops, guys, snitches, informers, protective boyfriends, grasses and corporate fools. (In fact, I am having trouble even going out on weekends nowadays. Weekends are for working stiffs. Tues, Wed, and Thurs you can get your most solid work done. And when I say “solid work” I mean swooping the flyest girls. Mondays are bad, because of Thurs seafood deliveries. Unless, of course, you go to Le Bernardin in NYC).
First off, here are some definite “Don’ts” for Halloween Costumes:
No face paint. (The stuff will get in your eyes and end up running down your face at some point in the night. Plus, you should want to take advantage of your good looks. You are in your prime, right?)
No “shirt off” costumes. (unless your gay)
No spandex. (If I need to explain this, your problems don’t end there.)
Now, keep in mind, I haven’t “battle tested” many of these costumes. But, I have picked the brains of many trusted sources and G’s active on The International Playboy Circuit, to come up with this data sheet on The Best Halloween Costumes for Guys:
The Classics:
The Mummy: Bad Idea, dressing up in toilet paper isn’t going to get you any girls.
Spiderman: No. Spandex. This also goes for Superman, Batman or any of those other clowns. Aquaman? Do me a favor. This is real life, not HBO’s Entourage. For the record, I out-Gamed Marky Mark heads up back in the day for a fly girl in Hollywood. And she was from Boston! Come on Marky? Skip along and go find your Funky Bunch. Dancing around in your underwear? That guy is so weesh. But I digress. Back to The Best Halloween Costume…
Pirate: Good move, especially if you spin it like a Pirates of the Caribbean-Johnny Depp style costume. Fly girls buy into that Hollywood-Johnny Depp crap, if you haven’t noticed.
Dracula: Best choice of the classics by far. Real good for submissive girls. You get to slick back your hair, and dress in black. Can be pretty sinister. Pretty haunting like Hope Sandoval’s voice. It’s no secret that Fly Girls like Vampires.
50’s Greaser: I wouldn’t recommend it. But, could be good for swooping white trash girls.
60’s Hippy: Not bad if you spin it into some drugged out Jim Morrison type cat. Also, girls that like weed and pills will probably step to you. Which is never a bad thing.
70’s Disco Cat: Best bet. You can wear fly clothes and if you are carrying drugs, you can play it off as some kind of “prop”.
The Whispers – And The Beat Goes On
“Funny” Costumes:
Not really a fan of “funny” costumes. The guy dressed as a “Condom” never gets any girls. Keep in mind, however, that wearing Condoms with any girl you meet on Halloween dressed in some scandalous outfit is advisable.
Occupational Based Costumes:
Fireman: I have heard from some fairly reliable sources that the Fireman does get chicks on Halloween. I could see it working especially well on girls with Blue-Collar backgrounds. Hell, might even work on Sophito Girls too.
Pimp: Pretty standard choice. Works pretty well on girls that have ever thought of a career in “The Life”. Which, these days, as much as we don’t want to face it, most girls have. Just, don’t be a rest haven for girls.
Doctor: Best bet. Later in the night, when everyone is out of their mind, you will seem more “trustworthy”. “Prescription pad” can be used for getting girls digits. “Pill bottle” you can use to hold Beans.
Celebrities (Personally, I hate Celebrities, except for heisting their cribs or their girlfriends, but if you must):
Pro Athletes: Bad move. You will only have guys coming up to you and high-fiving you all night. (Although, wearing a vintage Allen Iverson G-Town Jersey could be dope.)
Hugh Hefner: Best Bet. Unoriginal, but who cares? Best to be a young Hef vs and old Hef. Plus, it’s an easy costume to put together; just grab the custom red velvet smoking jacket and Italian silk purple pajamas from your closet and you are ready to go. Added bonus: The young Hef used to smoke cigarettes, so you can chain-smoke all night. If some girl you are with complains of your constant smoking you can say you just want to stay “In character”. Smooth.
Baseball Furies: Face paint, don’t do it. However, you do get to carry a baseball bat though, in case things get dicey.
Run-D.M.C.: Pretty dope. Just make sure you grab the Mic at some point in the night and have some skills:
“I met this little girlie, her hair was kinda curly,
Went to her house and bust her out, I had to leave real early
These girls are really sleazy, all they just say is please me,
Or spend some time and rock a rhyme, I said “It’s not that easy”.
Run-D.M.C. – It’s Tricky (listen for the GO-GO beat at the begining)
Alex and the Droogs (A Clockwork Orange): Not bad, especially from a young G’s perspective. The problem is you will end up in a fight and/or destroying property that night. Just, make sure you are Alex. Dim gets no chicks.
Movie Costumes:
Star Wars: No. I don’t care if your Puke Skysnotter, Barf Vader, Ham Salad or Chewbacon.
Zorro: Not a bad choice. Girls like Zorro. Plus, you get to wear a mask, if you want to do a Heist.
Patrick Bateman (American Psycho): Great choice. You can dress sharp, carry a gun, tons of cash and drugs. Sounds like a regular Tuesday night. Make sure you have a reservation at Dorsia.
Don Juan (Demarco): Real Good choice. You have the Johnny Depp factor in your favor and centuries of playboy lore working for you. If you can’t swoop fly girls dressed as Don Juan, then you really need to do some re-evaluation on your Game.
Tony Montana: Second best Choice of all. You are sharply dressed, full of swagger, smoking fine Cigars and cigarettes, Latin, Tooled up and suited down. You are dressed as men are supposed to dress and you don’t have to sacrifice personal style. Plus, you can have tons of Beeks on you and everyone will just think it is part of your costume. But then again, you should be like this every night, not just Halloween.
Manolo (from Scarface in case you have been living under a rock for the last 20 years): Best Choice of All. You get all the advantages of Tony but you get more girls. (You can skip the double-breasted suit if you like.) Tony was always about “In this country, you gotta make the money first. Then when you get the money, you get the power. Then when you get the power, then you get the women.” Manny was down with that also but he changed the order to Women – Power – Money. I like it in that order also. The G Manifesto Way.
In closing, The G makes the Halloween Costume; the Halloween Costume doesn’t make the G.
