So I roll into my first Yoga class. I have no idea what to wear to this gig so I go with the black wife beater, Wild Card Boxing Club t-shirt, Everlast hoodie and Quik boardshorts. You know, the height of Fashion for Yoga G Set. Or at least that is what I think it should be.
As I step into the arena, I mean, the waiting area, I see a fly girl that is as hot as the bullet that went into Abe Lincoln. So what do I do?
I go and sit next to her and say, “hello”.
She smiles and says “hello” back.
The atmosphere is very relaxed and subdued, but I get a good back and forth dialog going on with her. She can tell I am The G.
She is down. I will swoop her after class on the real.
Class starts.
I grab a spot in the back, just like when I was in school, because I have no idea what the f*ck is going on.
This was actually a good move because I can spock all the fly girls in the class. And it is basically all girls.
Minimal guys, only two others. The competition is non-existent. One guy is probably suspect and the other is softer than a soft serve cone in Venice Beach in August.
Street-hardened, well-traveled, International Playboys that survived The Extacsy Wonder Gang Wars, like your humble author, these guys are not.
We bust out the class, and I did pretty well actually. The fly girl teacher asks me, “Was that really your first class?”
When it ends, I feel great. I almost want to yell, “Let’s all get some cocktails and have a smoke!”, but I decide that it would be inappropriate in the Yoga Dojo.
Then the fly girl that I was talking to at the beginning of the class just gets up, rolls up her mat and splits.
This is a topic I am not at all unfamiliar with. In fact, cooking and swooping is a mainstay for me, especially when I am in places with weak nightlife like The California Police State. California also has the benefit of great ingredients for cooking, so it works all the way around.
Roosh busts out a little step by step:
1. Execute the move only on date two or beyond. A girl will most likely not accept you dinner date offer after only talking to you for an hour at the bar. For her to have a date in your house, a minimum of two face-to-face interactions must be achieved before she’ll want to come over.
2. You must have at least kissed and slightly groped her at the previous meeting. The move is done when the next logistical step is sex, which usually falls on date two or three. Otherwise what will happen is you waste the move to get no more than a kiss.
3. Pre-sell the date. If you’re at the end of a first date where kissing and touching has happened, say, “How about next time we do dinner at my place? I just learned how to cook a new dish.” She will be noncommittal, which is fine, because you’re just planting the seed so that she begins to accept the idea of coming over. There’s no need to iron out the exact time or date. Contact her in a couple days to make the plan.
4. Don’t start cooking until she arrives. There are two reasons for this. First, you want the cooking process to help you put in “face time” where she gets comfortable in your home. Second, you want her to start drinking while her stomach is empty so the booze (usually wine) has maximum effect. After eating, the alcohol will barely make a dent in her decision-making apparatus, so get her drinking as much as you can before the meal. Therefore it’s good to have meals that take at least one hour to prepare. To encourage drinking, try to stock your house with her booze preference, which you should know from your previous meetings with her.
5. Cook something you know. Don’t make the mistake I made several years ago by planning an elaborate three course meal that had me more focused on the food than the girl. It also showed that I was trying to impress her, which causes most American girls to lose attraction. Instead, cook a basic meal that is edible. If it’s pasta with Ragu sauce, then so be it. I usually cook rice with chicken and vegetables, a light meal that alcohol can punch through like a bulldozer. If she makes fun of you for such a simple dish, sarcastically apologize that you’re not a gourmet chef.
6. After dinner, get her on a surface where sex can occur. I like couches. It’s not hard to start banging there and then move to the bedroom. Many guys make the mistake of suggesting to watch a movie after dinner, but by the time it’s over she will have sobered up. Instead, put on The Weeknd, sit on the couch, talk, and then start kissing. After a bit of this, when you’re sure she’s aroused, get her straddled on top of you and start taking off her clothes (shirt and bra first). Have a condom already in your back pocket so that you don’t need to disturb the action by getting up to retrieve one. If you don’t have a couch, give her a “tour” of your room and put the music on there.
However, I don’t really “Pre-sell” the date. I just tell girls whats up. I call them up and tell them to come over because I am cheffing up a masterpiece. I always tell them to wear high heels as well. For aesthetic purposes.
Also, the whole “I usually cook rice with chicken and vegetables…If she makes fun of you for such a simple dish, sarcastically apologize that you’re not a gourmet chef.” doesn’t really fly in the circles I run in.
Maybe some free-range Roasted Chicken a la Zuni Cafe in San Francisco but that’s about it.
But here is what I bust out when I want to swoop fly high-end girls, The Shrimp and Linguine Swoop Move Recipe:
1. I usually start by popping a bottle of Spanish Red and bust out a quick Caprese Salad. (No need for the recipe here. Just get some fresh mozarella or burrata from the little Italian market down the street and some heirloom tomatoes, Sea Salt and fresh Basil. I usually use Grape Seed Oil in the place of Olive Oil for style points. You should look into it). I also usually strip down to the wife beater, for old-school style points, and I don’t want to splash any Olive Oil on my Custom Suits.
2. Make some Fresh Linguine. Save some of the Pasta Water. Throw on an old-school G Italian Track (for symmetry) to set the mood:
3. While the water is boiling for the Fresh Linguine, crisp up some Pancetta, Capicola or some Prosciutto di San Daniele. Or all three. Put it off to the side. Maybe throw on a Latin Track and dance with her for a minute so she feels the vibe:
4. By this point, she is probably ready to be swooped. And many times, I swoop girls at this point. If I want to “carry” my opponent a few more rounds, I will do this: In a pan, heat up some Extra Virgin Olive Oil, crushed Red Pepper and freshly minced garlic. Let it work it’s magic.
5. Throw in some Lemon Zest and let it infuse into the oil.
6. Throw in some Jumbo Shrimp. Now when I say “Jumbo Shrimp”, I don’t mean that wack Jumbo Shrimp they have in your hood. I am talking about Shrimp way bigger and fresher than you can get. The Shrimp I get, you have to have connects direct with local fisherman. Work on your connects and you can get to the level you need to be someday.
7. Rip up some Organic Basil and throw that into the mix holmes. Smell it. Enjoy an elegant high, fly pelican fly.
8. Spark up a smoke and take a big glup of Vino.
9. Toss in the Fresh Linguine you have already cooked with a little Pasta Water you saved from earlier.
10. Add a little Salt and Pepper to taste.
11. Throw it on a Plate.
12. Decorate plate with some more ripped Fresh Basil for color.
13. Crumble up the Pancetta, Capicola or some Prosciutto di San Daniele all over the Pasta and Shrimp. The colors are straight up Bellisimo.
14. Add a little Olive Oil.
15. Grate a little Fresh Parmesan.
Knock out punch.
If you make this dish and you can’t swoop the girl you are trying to swoop, Next her, because there is no way you are going to swoop her.
When you are a young up and coming G on a Budget in Southern California Beach Towns you need to focus on four places to swoop fly girls:
1. House Parties (although the California Police State has cracked down on these heavily since the “bad old days”, rendering them almost insignificant.)
2. The Beach (Although, I am not talking Topless Beaches here.)
Swooping fly girls at the 7-11, is just like mountain climbing: you have to put your time in.
What my old school crew and I would do is park the drop top Cadillac at our local 7-11 and just post up. Thankfully, there was a bar next door to our local 7-11 so girls would always come out of the bar to buy smokes or some crap.
We were just like crocodiles in wait for zebras, girls would come up and we would bite like the crocs do in The Gremeti River, Serengeti, Tanzania. “Crocodile Game” if you will.
Chronic Smokes and 40oz Dreams
In between girls rolling up, my crew and I would just chill, take monster hits of Chronic and take huge pulls of well concealed 40 oz bottles.
You would be surprised how many fly rich beach girls would open us with, “Do you have any more weed?”
Game on. Then we would just transform into the Original Game Spitta.
It amazes me how you hardly ever see young G’s chilling out in the open smoking Chronic and Drinking Malt Liquor any more. I really don’t know what is wrong with kids these days. Maybe it’s the video games. Maybe it’s Facebook. Who really knows?
Either way, if I saw kids posting, smoking and drinking at a 7-11 today, I would probably throw them on the pay roll and mold them for the future.
We can always use more International Playboys of The Apocalypse.
Anyways, I am starting to confuse myself.
Before I get too off track, here is a little story from back in the day when fly girls hit me on the Pager like my name was Stojaković to explain how it’s done:
I was chilling with my clicka at our local 7-11 smoking Chronic and drinking St. Ides when we saw a super fly girl get into an argument with her boyfriend outside the bar next door. It got pretty heated and the guy walked away in a huff.
The girl was older (about 27-28 I am guessing) and a mad fly blonde girl. Dressed to the nines.
The super fly girl rolled up to the 7-11 and she walked right past us and ignored my advances.
My homeboys were heckling me because I blew it. Or so they thought.
I just leaned back against the Cadillac and re-sparked up another Chronic Roach.
I could tell she was pretty heated from the argument with the guy earlier, but she had a very seductive and enchanting look in her eyes.
As I killed my Chronic Jay, she asked me with dilated pupils, “Do you have any more weed, I could really use some right now”.
Although we were all holding Chron (as always), I replied half jokingly since she dissed me earlier, “I do, but it is at my crib close by.”.
I thought she was going to laugh and diss me again, (keep in mind this girl was hotter than Venice Beach asphalt in summertime in a long form fitting dress and high heels) but she said, “Let’s go. Your driving.” and threw me her keys.
I looked at the keys: Porsche
Smooth. (And not one of those lame ones. A legit one. Payed for by her boyfriend no doubt).
I grabbed her hand and I replied, “Let’s roll” and started walking away while giving a wink to my crew who all were flabbergasted.
We rolled to the G-Spot, for a smoke session and swoop session. Illmatic.
Still maybe the best blower of my life. (And not to sound cocky or anything, but she has long competition to be measured up against, so to speak).
She needed me to drop her and her ride off, so we split.
As we pulled out of my block, I passed my friends rolling back from the 7-11 and gave them a loud honk as they gave me the “jealousy finger”.
We rolled a few miles into the sickest houses in the hood by the beach. I am talking don’t even step unless you have $3 mill min. (And that was in those days, nowadays, some go for $25 mill an up, of course).
We pulled up to a super sick crib and she said, “This is it…”
Gentleman of Leisure: The Sharply Dressed Mysterious International Playboy
Here is the thing that escapes most about the whole International Playboy Lifestyle:
Every fly girl on Earth and I mean every fly girl on Earth will swoop on the Sharply Dressed, Mysterious, Dashing, Gentleman of Leisure at least once in her life.
It doesn’t matter if she only dates rockstars. She will swoop at least one International Playboy in her life.
It doesn’t matter if she only dates actors. She will swoop at least one International Playboy in her life.
It doesn’t matter if she only dates pro athletes. She will swoop at least one International Playboy in her life.
It doesn’t matter if she only dates suspect male models. She will swoop at least one International Playboy in her life.
It doesn’t matter if she only dates wimpsters. She will swoop at least one International Playboy in her life.
It doesn’t matter if she only dates douchebags. She will swoop at least one International Playboy in her life.
It doesn’t matter if she only dates biz cats. She will swoop at least one International Playboy in her life.
This is one of the huge advantages of The International Playboy lifestyle: its universal and timeless.
It constantly amazes me how more people aren’t on to this thing. It really is the best gig going.
That all being said, every fly girl on Earth is there for the taking.
For the last few years, almost every girl I have swooped, I have swooped in public at some point (or multiple points, so to speak).
This is something I have been into since I was a young cub, but lately it is become almost an addiction.
Here are some keys to victory for the fight to remember:
1. It is easier to swoop girls in public in warmer climes. This is easy for me since I spend almost all my time in America in Southern California and South Florida. And when I travel Internationally, I am always where the sun is shining bright. Hell, I usually spend my summer swooping Topless Girls at The Beach. Warmer weather means less clothes you have to take off. Or lift up.
2. On that note, always tell girls when they come to meet you to wear high heels and a skirt. If a girl meets me with Ugg Boots and skinny jeans, I don’t care how fly she is, I am ditching her. I have an image to uphold after all. And I have to draw the line somewhere.
3. Find a good spot. The beach. A park. An alley. A Mediterranean courtyard or Veranda. Use “views” to your advantage. Read A View To A Swoop, for a full breakdown.
4. Swoop. Just bust it out. Keep an eye out for Cops though. Especially in The California Police State.
