The G Manifesto

Guest Manifesto: For the People Pt. II

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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

Click Here for Guest Manifesto: For The People Part I

Click Here 007 Lifestyle – Living Like James Bond!

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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

George Best: Old-School Irish G

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George Best – Genius, Maverick, Legend

George Best is known as one of the most naturally gifted footballers of all time. In Northern Ireland (conicidentally, the same place my Father and Grandfather are from, Belfast), they even say “Maradona good; Pelé better; George Best.” And Danny Blanchflower said, “He has ice in his veins, warmth in his heart and timing and balance in his feet.”

But his achevements on the football pitch aren’t what make him a member of The G Manifesto Hall of Fame, its his achievements in partying and swooping fly girls.

Best always lived an extravagant lifestyle. And like all great athletes and Playboys, smoked cigarettes. When asked later what happened to the money he had earned in his career, Best replied: “I spent a lot of money on booze, birds and fast cars. The rest I just squandered.”

His love of booze and the International Playboy lifestyle eventually caught up with him, but he still plugged away until age 59.

And like many Irishmen, Best was also a master of word play:

He cannot kick with his left foot, he cannot head a ball, he cannot tackle and he doesn’t score many goals. Apart from that he’s all right.
— (his assesment of Manchester United’s David Beckham)

I’ve stopped drinking, but only while I’m asleep.

In 1969 I gave up women and alcohol – it was the worst 20 minutes of my life.

I might go to Alcoholics Anonymous, but I think it would be difficult for me to remain anonymous.

People always say I shouldn’t be burning the candle at both ends. Maybe they haven’t got a big enough candle.

It’s a pleasure to be standing here. It’s a pleasure to be standing up. (On being made Footballer of the Century, 1999)

Because I saw an advert on the side of a London bus inviting me to “Drink Canada Dry” (On going to play for Vancouver Whitecaps)

They say I slept with seven Miss Worlds. I didn’t. It was only four. I didn’t turn up for the other three.

Reporter Sue Mott, taking Best’s mobile phone number: “God, do you realise half the women in the world would pay good money to get that number?”

Best: “Half the women in the world have got it.”

And my personal favorite:

I used to go missing a lot…Miss Canada, Miss United Kingdom, Miss World.

True G.

George Best – The Belfast Boy

Source

George Best – Genius, Maverick, Legend

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

Simply the best – George Best

Ordinary world- Duran Duran

Call Mom

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Next up on “Old-school Moves” Week is a real basic one and maybe the most important: Call Your Mom.

If you can make the best woman in your life’s heart sing with a five minute call, well, its the best 5 minutes you can spend all day.

On a side note, this was the best video of the year so far:

The kid has got mad style.

Click Here to give to Haiti through The Red Cross

Click Here to buy Crush It!: Why NOW Is the Time to Cash In on Your Passion

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

THE INTRUDERS – I’LL ALWAYS LOVE MY MAMA

Source

Help an Old Lady Across The Street

Click Here 007 Lifestyle – Living Like James Bond!

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Yesterday on “Old-School G Move Week” on The G Manifesto, we broke down the data sheet for: Give Back to The People.

Today, we are doing a way old-school, almost extinct move: Help an Old Lady Across The Street.

Anytime I am rolling around the streets, Custom Suited Down, heatered down, spiting Game at fly girls, I always keep my eyes peeled for old ladies that need help across the street. This is a real classy, stylish move.

First off, you are helping someone, so your Karmic account goes off the charts. And if you are anything like me, you can always use help in squaring your accounts.

A huge side benefit of this move is that fly young girls check you while you are doing it. Any International Playboy, worth their weight in gold, can then transition the momentum into a swoop on a girl on the other side of the street.

It has the same effect as dancing with the grandmother at the wedding. Or chilling with the older kittens at The Racetrack.

Young kittens will see you talking with them and think you have tons of class. The old kittens also have some funny stories, and when you charm them they introduce you to their family and other young kittens. Source

I have done this move from New York to London, LA to Tokyo, while I destroy fake players and my rivals get broke, Yo.

Just make sure you look both ways before crossing the street.

Click Here to give to Haiti through The Red Cross

Click Here to buy Crush It!: Why NOW Is the Time to Cash In on Your Passion

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

FRANK SINATRA , THE LADY IS A TRAMP