Hell, half the reason I write this site is so people wont waste my time with stupid questions.
But that is neither here nor there.
This year again, I skipped New Years Eve, and instead plotted and schemed while everyone else was partying.
I also like making moves when others are playing. And play when others are working.
On New Years Day, I woke up early, Entered The Dragon and Gave Back to The People in the form of food for the homeless.
On the Dolo Creep. Custom Suited Down, of course, Champion of The People Style.
The interesting thing was after hanging with the homeless for a few hours, on my way back home, I had to take a piss so I went into a decently fly boutique hotel near my crib.
The contrast was striking: People without a care, slapping on I-phones and I-pads like monkeys with no idea of the world around them.
I am not sure what this all means, but it did have an effect on me.
Giving back to The People always does.
It is a real soulful expeirence and I recommend it for all the younger G’s out there getting into “The Life”
Roberts returned from Vietnam to New York with screws and a metal plate in his head — the aftermath of an explosion. By the time he was 20, he was one of New York’s biggest nightclub impresarios, rubbing shoulders with everyone from Jimi Hendrix to John Lennon.
But after a business partner turned up dead and an informant told the police Roberts was involved, he hightailed it to sunny Miami. The year was 1975.
“When I first came to Miami, I wasn’t smuggling: I was like all the other dealers on the street just trying to make a living, and it got to a point where I had so much business that these people just couldn’t supply me,” he says.
That’s when Roberts shifted from being a drug dealer to a drug importer for the Colombian Medellin cartel.
Importing paid well: By the end of 1976, Roberts says he was moving 50 kilos of cocaine worth $500,000 or more a month. Roberts was living it up: He had half a dozen servants, a Porsche, multiple houses, dozens of race horses and friends in high places, including the Colombian drug lord Pablo Escobar.
The U.S. government labeled Roberts the “American Representative” of the Medellin cartel; he became known as “the bearded gringo” on Miami’s streets.
Roberts and a few American partners created a highly advanced drug-smuggling system that included secret airfields, listening posts to eavesdrop on Coast Guard communications, and homing beacons for tracking cocaine shipped by sea.
“We ended up getting, up by Tampa, a 450-acre farm and it was all surrounded by trees and we put two runways in there and we put hangars in for the planes to go in,” Roberts says.
Their drug-smuggling schemes stymied the U.S. government for nearly a decade.
Death came for Jon Roberts, the infamous cocaine cowboy, on Dec. 28 at age 63, after a long battle with cancer. But his public career as a charming monster is just beginning
A true-crime memoir, “American Desperado” (Crown; $28), written with journalist Evan Wright, has just been published. In Hollywood, director Peter Berg and star Mark Wahlberg are developing a movie based on his exploits.
Dying at his ease in Fort Lauderdale in the company of a devoted younger spouse and his 11-year-old son Julian, product of an earlier marriage, was an improbable end for a man who never repudiated his lifelong philosophy that “evil is stronger than good.”
“How many times have I encountered a crooked politician who wants to establish he’s a nice guy, or a killer who wants you to think he’s a good guy at heart,” says Wright. “I was fascinated because here is a guy who has done monstrous things and he’s not trying to portray himself as a nice guy or a victim.”
As Roberts tells Wright in “American Desperado,” “I might be a sociopath. Most of the time I’ve been on this earth I’ve had no regard for human life. That’s been the key to my success.”
If “American Desperado” is to be believed, Jon Roberts beat people to death in New York, skinned enemy POWs alive in Vietnam, and helped a future CIA agent murder famed mobster Meyer Lansky’s stepson in Miami – with Lansky’s approval.
Roberts first came to national attention as one of the stars of “Cocaine Cowboys,” a Miami-produced documentary that was a surprise hit in 2006. The film details the early 1980s, when Miami became a nearly lawless place awash in cocaine, violence and corruption.
As an American representative of the Medellin Cartel, Roberts helped import some $2 billion worth of cocaine into South Florida, working with infamous figures like Albert San Pedro, Pablo Escobar, Bobby Seal, Max Mermelstein and Bobby Erra.
“He’s a killer,” says Wright, author of the acclaimed Iraq War book, “Generation Kill.” “The notion that Jon is a monster because he kills people doesn’t disqualify a person in my code of life. He’s a killer — let’s move on from there. Let’s find out more.”
Last night, I spoke to Roberts’ smuggling partner and costar in Cocaine Cowboys, the laid-back and quirky Mickey Munday, with whom he had epic disagreements. The last time Munday saw Roberts, he recalls, was at a Miami restaurant with Peter Berg — where the cancer-stricken old criminal vowed to kill Munday before he kicked the bucket: “Before I go, I’m going to get you.”
“I told him: ‘If I had a bucket list, I might put that blonde over there on it,'” Munday says. “‘But not whacking somebody who’s known me for 25 years.'”
“I always thought that he would beat this, I really did,” Munday told me. “If anybody could, it was him, because he’s the meanest son of a bitch I knew. If cancer could get to him it could get to anybody.”
Munday later texted me, referring to Roberts’ nemesis Mermelstein, who also died of cancer: “I hope Jon is kicking Max from one end of Hell to the other.”
A Subtle Way To Prevent Girls From Falling Too Hard For You
In the past, we covered How to Un-Pick up Girls. (Mad Innovative and futuristic. Even most “top” players will only start incorporating those moves in 5-7 years).
Here is a move straight out of The Chambers of The G Manifesto to prevent girls from falling too hard for you:
One way to stop this from happening is to tell girls after you swoop them, that you “hate” celebrating holidays.
You see, girls are completely brainwashed by society and “love” holidays.
Ever met a girl that didn’t absolutely love the holidays? Yeah, me neither. They don’t exist.
Telling a girl that you “hate” holidays is somewhat like telling a little kid that the Easter Bunny isn’t real; it blows their whole foundation up.
After the shock waves settle, girls start viewing you as “not relationship material”, which is exactly what you want them to think.
And let’s face it, American Holidays are weesh.
Lets’ break a few of them down:
New Year’s Day/Eve – If you really want to party, you don’t need society to tell you when. And it’s better to do it on a day when every dork is partying and The Police State is in full force. New Years Eve very well could be the only night of the year where I won’t go out at night.
Thanksgiving Day – I like turkey as much as the next cat, and I love mashed potatoes like any good half Irish kid does, but I can have a big meal with my family anytime.
Christmas Day – If you really want to give a gift to someone, you can do it August 1st. Or March 12th. Or…you get the broken picture.
April Fool’s Day – Kind of funny. Also, kind of tired.
Chinese New Year – Maybe would be smooth if you were in Hong Kong or Macau or somewhere. In America? Weesh.
Cinco de Mayo – Phony holiday created by the beer companies. And I can’t stand Tequila (drank a whole bottle to the brain as a kid and I still can’t even smell the stuff). I will pass like Jim McMahon.
Halloween – If you are a “Monster” like Cody, everyday is Halloween.
St. Patrick’s Day – Green beer? Come on. And this is from someone who’s Father was born in Northern Ireland. Belfast.
Valentine’s Day – Might be the worst of the bunch.
Any questions?
This all being said, I do dig holidays in foreign countries. I love the week-long Spanish Festivals in Summertime. However, America is such a Police State that outside of Mardi Gras, we don’t have any week-long, all-night party holidays.
Travel Bum Show: The Cuba Prostitution Documentary
“Cuban women can take a compliment without sneering at you as though you offered them your entire soul.” – Andrew Lindy
A friend of mine recently sent me The Cuba Prostitution Documentary by Andrew Lindy.
This cat obviously has talent. It is pretty damn good.
It is not a documentary about “prostitution” Cuba per se (and I don’t mean Thomas Keller’s restaurant Per Se either), as in the guy pays money in exchange for sex, it is more about the cat trying to pick up girls in Cuba.
I have been thinking someone needs to do an Anthony Bourdain-style travel show for the swooping girls set.
It sometimes makes me wish I could get in front of a camera and bust something out. It would be probably the dopest video show on the Internet. But I never would for a host of reasons.
Cotto VS Margarito II. I might not have technically been the “best fight” of 2011, but Cotto’s revenge stood out a the greatest win in Boxing for 2011. Hell, it was the greatest win in all of sport for 2011.
And if you think about it, this win erases the Margarito “loss” and only leaves the Pac-Man loss on Cotto’s ledger. Cotto is back in biz in a big way.
Best Fights:
These fights were all tops in my book.
Alfredo Angulo vs James Kirkland. Unbelievable come from behind win for Kirkland.
Andre Berto vs Victor Ortiz. This fight was pure amazing. I am a big fan of trading knockdowns so Round 6 was a modern day classic in my eyes.
This fight even had Emanuel Stewart saying “Oh my God!” And you don’t hear that very often.
Akira Yaegashi vs. Pornsawan Porpramook. Almost everyone slept on this thrilling beauty. Who says “Minimum Weight” fighters can’t throw it down?
Erik Morales vs Marcos Maidana. Two of the toughest guys in boxing show you how its done. Pure heart and soul.
Bernard Hopkins Vs Jean Pascal II. My main man Bernard (remember I used to roll in his entourage back when I was a young proto-type G. Watch the old fights, I was the handsome, dashing kid in the Custom Suit. Or just look for the only non-African American cat) does it again. Masterful performance in becoming the oldest man in the history of the sport to win a major world title, supplanting George Foreman.
Fighter of the Year:
Miguel Cotto. Thought it wasn’t? When was the last time you came back from a soul sapping, crushing defeat with loaded gloves to put on a performance of a lifetime? Honestly, I can’t believe the mainstream media didn’t give Cotto more credit.
Let’s get a little Latin flavor on this:
Future World-Wide Superstar:
Saul “Canelo” Alvarez. The kid is Mexican, and looks Irish. And fights like both. Great extension on his punches. Real power. Loves to fight. Dates a former Miss Mexico Universe, so his “International Playboy” street cred is in order. What is not to like about this kid? Four big wins in 2011. Canelo is the future of boxing.
Knockouts of The year:
Floyd Mayweather’s KO of Victor Ortiz. I am sure I will get a lot of flack for chosing this one, but I loved it. Protect yourself at all times.
Fernando Montiel vs. Nonito Donaire. Now this was nice.
Zab Judah KO’s Kaizer Mabuza. Brooklyn’s own Zab Judah has still got it. Very Mayweatheresque move.
Gary Russell Jr. vs. Heriberto Ruiz. Washington, DC’s own Gary Russell Jr. is one to watch. Beautiful. Speed = Power.
Best Handspeed:
Gary Russell Jr. Keep your eye on this cat. Literally and figuratively.
Yuriorkis Gamboa. The Cuban kid brings the Meth.
Upset of the Year:
Lamont Peterson over Amir Khan. Sure it was a hometown decision. But what do you expect? It’s Boxing.
Robbery of The Year:
Manny Pacquiao VS Juan Manuel Marquez III. Marquez won this one. Everyone I respect in the boxing world that I have spoke with agrees.
Paul Williams vs Erislandy Lara. The Cuban one this one too.
Prospect of The Year:
Jose Benavidez, Jr. I have seen this kid at The Wildcard, and he is the Holyfield.
