Get Me the Fuck out of Here.

London, United Kingdom

2011-11-27T21:47:00.000-08:00

What? Doesn’t anybody here believe in a comeback? – Gordon Gekko

London, United Kingdom

It’s 4:54pm 5,456 miles from where I woke up that morning. I’m somewhere in front of Westminster Palace, surrounded by tortillas. Normally at this time I am creating an intricate diversion allowing me to depart my office through the escape chute I’ve tunneled underneath my desk. Instead, tonight I am on the run from two Brazilians that have just been dominated in foosball by me and my Chief Travel Companion, T-Crowe the First. California and I are on a break, and tonight I am not thinking about her…

Tanya: The mechanism is... Oh James, James... Will you make love to me all the time in England?
Bond: Day and night. Now go on about this ‘mechanism’...”

-James Bond, From Russia with Love

I look up at Big Ben and it has just struck 2 in the morning. It was daylight when we entered the sports pub we discovered while playing rock soccer along the Thames River, littering the streets with said tortillas that we found inexplicably sitting atop an abandoned moped. Undoubtedly a sign from the Great Gaucho in the Sky. Gents, before I go on about London, be sure to take away one thing. Do not enter British Pub wearing an Argentina jacket. Am I lucky to be alive? You bet. You will likely to get more attention from local Englishmen for boasting about Argentine soccer than you will strapping on a Pikachu hat as you douse yourself with chocolate syrup before running across Tower Bridge screaming about the Falkland Islands. But I digress…

I love London except everything costs about twice as much as it would back in the States. No wonder every year at UCSB Isla Vista is infested with English study abroad students. To these guys shopping at Barneys New York is like cutting coupons for label-less cans on Black Friday at Pic-n-Save (I’m looking at you, Kate Gosselin). And the language barrier? Whilst standing in line to get into a pub, I heard the following conversation take place:

BIG BRITISH GUY: Ole chap, listen to this yee. Last night, I got simply shattered and fell upon two pissed blokes fighting over a bird!

OTHER BRITISH GUY: Do tell! I presume the situation was a bit dodgy lad?

BBG: Indeed! Nevertheless, I was keen to snog a yummy mummy whilst in the queue, so I fancied my way over and clocked the two chaps.

OBG: Simply Capital!

By the beard of Zeus I would rather be locked up in a chamber and forced to listen to an entire Nickelback album than to listen to this kind of hoopla every day. The most skilled codebreaker would be rendered dumbfounded.

ECONOMICS 101

Bummed out you missed on Cash for Clunkers? well, take a look at this BENTLEY.

England was once the most powerful and influential country in the galaxy. They would say the sun never sets on the British Empire. Since then, a few things happened. Namely the Second Industrial Revolution in the United States and the US winning a war started by some asshole with a moustache Michael Jordan recently sported in a Hanes commercial. Nowadays the only thing England is known for is sending Brits to America to criticize aspiring singers to the point of tears or threaten to gouge out the eyes of every deputy chef in the kitchen if just one more scallop is burnt. Nevertheless, England is still one of the larger international powerhouses and an expensive city to live in at that.

If you think you can afford to live here on a barista’s salary, then expect to be pouring skinny lattes into your 90’s, chief.

A plate of fried frog legs and a Sam Adams will set you back two months rent on your Occupy Wall Street tent. You see here the British Sterling is actually worth something and it hasn’t been whored out by a bearded pimp named Bernanke who treats the Dollar like it’s paper currency in Monopolyland.

The British pound here is at times worth twice the US Dollar, meaning you have to have twice as much wealth to make it here than you currently have. For example.. .

Net Worth Needed to Survive in London = 2 x (a half eaten burrito and used toothbrush)

Suffice it to say you are not rich enough to easily score women in London, so you better be persuasive. I’m talking about I-just-convinced-Tony-Robbins-not-to-quit-his-job persuasive. Which brings me to...

THE DINING AND NIGHTLIFE SOCIAL SCENE

I saw Lon Chaney Jr. walkin’ with the queen, doin’ the werewolves of London
I saw a werewolf drinkin’ a pina colada at Trader Vic's
And his hair was perfect. -Warren Zevon

Admittedly London is not quite the first place I would think of when it comes to giant foam parties and body shots. After careful consideration I concluded that what Warren Zevon was referring to in his 1978 hit was actually a 22-year old female Cambridge student. I was shocked and dismayed by the general lack of talent, on par with the throwing ability of Tim Tebow. The only notable candidates were present on the evening Trevor and I barged into a karaoke bar by Trafalgar Square and proceeded to belt out Sweet Child O’ Mine to the bemusement of every British patron. Bewildered by our sheer awesomeness, we had no choice but to high tale it in a blaze of glory in search of a more promising scene.

CLOSING ARGUMENTS

Now some of you may ask, ”Why London? Why now?“

Well, how dare you question my judgment, you hypothetical cracked reader who is questioning me even though you are merely figment of my imagination. Though the food is terrible and it is evident that Dentistry has yet to arrive in the United Kingdom, the scenery and heritage are profound and aesthetically pleasing. London is more than just any old city with old cathedrals and outrageous accents. It is a place that belongs on everyone’s Bucket List.

So pack up your bags, call into your boss sick for the next 11 days, and you’ll likely make the following progression:

à

That’s all for now, back to the spreadsheets and emails. Now will somebody, somebody PLEASE…

GET ME THE FUCK OUT OF HERE!

-Armando

San Francisco

2011-10-27T10:45:00.000-07:00

"San Francisco is 49 square miles surrounded by reality "
-Paul Kantner

The Cab is speeding up California Street past the Fairmont. My head is looking out the of the open window, the crisp air cascades across my face. I’m drunk, I can barely feel the left side of my face. My friends are arguing who cock blocked the other with that cute cocktail waitress. But I don’t care. The lights of the vast city stare me in the face as we reach the top of nob Hill, the cab pauses for a brief moment. And in that moment it hits me - we all came to this place seeking a better life whether it’s from the South, East Bay, Southern California, East Coast, Europe. And here we all are living the fast and beautiful party life. Welcome to San Francisco, the city to lapidate your past away and establish a future...

Drugs and Technology. That’s all the U.S. makes anymore. And since SF consumes most of those pharmaceuticals and we have a monopoly on technology, we control the only U.S. made sectors. We run the world right now, this is our day. That’s pretty surprising considering I hear conversation like this all the time in the social scene:

Random Startup CEO: “How is your startup “lolmeows” (or whatever the fuck the dumb startup’s name is that I heard) doing?”

CEO’s friend: “Rad dude my logo is prolly going to be green errr red, but I kinda like green I don’t know.”

Christ. Alright let me fucking tell you kids something consequential; a business isn’t some virtual pet that you can customize and play with, for the love of Newsome! This isn’t an episode of Family Matters where Steve Urkel can invent some crazy-ass machine that blows up on Carl Winslow who always forgives Steve and they end up reluctantly hugging it out to the 'awww's of the audience.

You would be amazed at some of the things I’ve heard attending startup parties from Twilio to Dropbox to Eventbrite. I’ve gotten blank stares when I ask about monetization, what differentiates you from your competitor.

Me: Tell me how you plan to make money off of lolmeows?

lolmeows CEO: “Well, like, like Facebook didn’t need to answer that!”

Me: “Kill yourself.”

I thought about just cleaning up all these clowns and forming a business that somehow makes money on buying up all of their remaining assets when they go out of business but I’d rather not involve myself in a bubble right now and instead take the other side short Venture Captial indexes. But I digress...

Social Scene:

I have so much to write here I could literally write a book. But I haven’t the time, so I created this cool chart instead:

Now I hear often San Francisco is just a city of 7’s (girls), most of which are insane. While that does seem to be a trend, that’s not entirely accurate.

But sometimes you'll be caught off guard. Maybe at a random bar like Mojitos you can find that girl, the one as bored as you are, her beautiful smile stopping you in your tracks. So you talk to her, you have things in common. But what do you do? You want instant validation, you don't want to put your time in and get to know someone better. This reminds me of a prodigious quote:

Some of the secret joys of living are not found by rushing from point A to point B, but by inventing some imaginary letters along the way.
- Douglas Pagels,

And so it is with Startups much like dating, success won’t come easily in San Francisco, you will have to put your time and research in. We come from a generation, which SF accurately represents, who wants everything now, instead of thinking. So when I hear that “even Joe down the Street has a Startup he'll be a millionaire soon”, I shake my head, laugh, proclaim loudly, “Good luck”, and tip my shot back.

The Beauty of San Francisco:

So what makes San Francisco unique? Is it the awkward orange bridge? Is it the giant penis statue Coit Tower? Is it the socially accepted ‘iPhone over actual conversation’ mentality? Or perhaps the variety of cultures that fit together like puzzle pieces. That all certainly helps. But in my opinion it’s the people. I can take a 5 minute cab ride and I’m taking to crazy hipsters about how their tight pants cut off circulation to their balls, another 5 minute cab ride I’m talking to bros about the Giants regarding how they would totally do Brian Wilson (and they assure me that doesn’t make them gay), and yet another 5 minutes and I'm in North Beach doing shots with Australians. You can explore so much with every little crevice speaking to you. The amazing burgers at Roam on Union, the Thai on Polk, the Sushi hidden behind an apartment building on Washington.

I wouldn’t give San Francisco up for the world and I certainly wouldn’t give up the late nights talking philosophy at Irvings pizza with people in line, talking with dates on the beach at 1am, carrying my drunk buddies home, throwing burritos at cabs for not stopping, starring at the city atop telegraph hill and pondering how many people are having sex at this current moment. You are my home San Francisco and while I may cheat on you with LA, New York, London from time to time - you will always be my #1.

Paris, France

2011-02-03T22:49:00.000-08:00

Paris

"The French are a smallish, monkey-looking bunch and not dressed any better, on average, than the citizens of Baltimore. True, you can sit outside in Paris and drink little cups of coffee, but why this is more stylish than sitting inside and drinking large glasses of whiskey I don't know." —P.J O'Rourke (1989)

Bonsoir mesdames et messieurs! Ah yes, Paris – center of wine and arrogant French fuckery. Axel Rose take it solo buddy, I need background music for this analysis

As my train arrived in the brumal winter to Gard du Nord station in Northern Paris I sensed something was up. Perhaps it was the piercing hyperborean winter weather or the stench of my traveling buddy – but I felt as though I was of the lowest concern on the Parisian’s mind. Their primary concerns of course being what type of cheese they want to smear all over their bodies, why their accents are so outrageous, and how to spend all of their disposable income on clothes that cost more than Charlie Sheen's condom bill.

I guess it’s cliché to say that Americans or even any non-Parisians are hated in Paris. But you know what? I get it. I mean, if my city was constantly full of tourists year-around barely speaking my language, acting like they own the place - I’d give them the anti-fuck stare too.

But wait? Everyone in my city IS a damn tourist and although they speak the language, they rarely contribute any value to our city. Yet you know, I’m courteous and helpful to them. Yes the SF tourists, they swarm in from god damn bridges and tunnels like an abominate and disenchant infestation of drivel. It’s atrocious to say the least. In SF, the tourists drink from their awe-inspiring peasant flasks instead of buying drinks like a big boy. Then they wear eyed-gouging garbs I've seen French homeless men outdress. And they wonder why no girl talks to them. But Parisians have a bit of an obligation to be nice if you ask me. In Paris 79% of income from Paris is derived from tourism. Ahhhhhhhhhh shiattttt muh fucka said 79%!

Well anyways you get the point…we were about as welcome as a whiskey body shot contest in an Alcoholics Anonymous meeting. Despite that, the city is pretty much a giant landmark. And it’s beautiful – the most beautiful city in the world perhaps. I suppose that’s the allure of couples from the world swooping in and getting all romanticy. Which brings me to my next point:

HOLY FUCK, THIS IS A CITY FOR ROMANTIC COUPLES.

The girls wanted nothing to do with two traveling Americans. Not that I was really interested in them anyway but nonetheless. Perhaps it’s because we are more arrogant than them, maybe it’s because we don’t smell like a rotten cheese sandwich that has been laid on a pile of dead animal carcasses that has been rotten in the hottest sun for 1000 years, I cannot say. Our attempts at conversation was met with a Parisian shrug. Yes, the shrug that is like a half shrug, half go fuck yourself. So instead we hung out with Americans, Australians, and Russians. And yes the rumors are true, my dearest friend did indeed hook up with a Russian whore in the bathroom of a Chinese restaurant in Paris while her boy friend sat outside.

But you know what? The city is amazing.

As I walked along the Siene near Notre Dame and stared into the traveling breeze of the river, thousands of years of history slammed me in the face. I mean the French revolution started where I’m standing right now, disposing the great monarch structures of the world. The people of Paris stood up, they fought, they said enough was enough. They charged the Palace of Versailles and sliced people’s heads off. This is something America lacks. Behind our anger for diminishing rights we are pulled back and distracted by lethargic inducing Jersey Shore, make-up tips, The Bachelor, cheap plastic shit from China, fast food, and the obsession with internet porn. I can only hope we as Americans can take a few notes from the Parisians:

1) Take life slower and stop to smell the flowers. Sometimes we forget what an alluring city we live in and we need to stop and admire the history and culture of it from time to time.

2) Not everything is about the money – sometimes living comfortably and working less so you can enjoy time with friends and family is more important than adding that expansion on your house.

Oh who the fuck am I kidding, I’m going to get in my Mercedes right now from work with my $300 pants and light a cigar while I burn rubber at the speed of fucking sound - past the impoverished homeless man begging for money so I can get home to drink all night with my buddies and end up in regrettable but hilarious situations.

-Trevor

Monaco Principality, Southern France

2010-08-19T09:39:00.000-07:00

                                It’s August…Fuck it I’m doing
                        Monaco

I don`t see myself as a rebel, but of course it all depends on what you consider normal. The most important thing is to feel happy with what you yourself decided. -- on her reputation as an "enfant terrible"
-Princess Stephanie of Monaco

It was once said that Monaco was the golden earring of Europe. I will consider it the clitoris of Europe. It’s magnificent and resplendent in its design and utility but a reprehensibly placed destination that few people know about or care to visit. Monaco is located in South France and it is a city state government ruled by a democratic monarchy.

I love Monaco as it is one of the most astounding and elegant places to visit in Southern Europe. But, I simply enjoy stepping on deplorable primary-class riff-raff while I travel here. You would be amazed at the sonorous squeal of an old French Baron as I pour 1 pint of 1987 Chateau Lafite into said Baron’s eye cavity – followed by a mandible-bone uppercut - after said Baron elucidated that my tie from Saks was pique and disturbing.

Why talk of Monaco, why now? Well, considering we are in an abhorrent recession full of desolation, worriment, and hardship what better time to talk about the richest and most dazzling city state in the world? Eh?

Struggling to afford the oil change on your 1996 Honda Civic? Well take a look at this Bugatti and Ferrari:

Monaco is known for it’s luxurious cars not only due to it’s wealth but due to it’s location as the Formula 1 Grand Prix held in Circuit do Monaco.

The race is held on a narrow course laid out in the streets of Monaco, with multifarious elevation changes and tight corners as well as a fucking tunnel, making it one of the most demanding tracks in Formula One. In spite of the relatively low average speeds, it is more dangerous that driving a 2 story bus on a wet beach full of John Goodman look-alikes.

German Formula One driver Michael Schumacher of Ferrari steers his car with an overview of Monaco during the first practice session for the Grand Prix of Monaco

…Still aren’t satisfied are you, you coupon cutting, discount masturbator? Well compose your somnolent eyes on this 100 ft yacht:

Lavish Yachts are a frequent occurrence in the Port of Monaco. You will find Saudi Princes, to European Aristocrats, to French barons. Monaco is by far the classiest city in the civilized world. Therefore, throwing a random-shot Gary Blair quote is appropriate here:

“We only live once, but once is enough if we do it right. Live your life with class, dignity, and style so that an exclamation, rather than a question mark signifies it!.”

Anyways…

Wait what…Yacht Models…

Ah yes, back to the blog…Why does Monaco have such a profusion of wealth and luxuriance?

Well young lad it boils down to Tax Havens. This lovely place levies no income tax on individuals. This essentially offers any business or wealthy individual the opportunity to cut 20-30% of their losses off. This of course creates extraordinary cash flow into in banks and business incorporation. You might be thinking:

“Fuck man, maybe I should move there?”

Nice try fuck-face but your $3000 in a checking account and net worth that equals somewhere between a pizza box and a hand-job from Mike Tyson will not even allow you to get a taste of the hairballs in the Monaco sewage system.

When I was a young curious lad, I remember my father dated the Princess of Monaco – Princess Stephanie to be exact…I didn’t know what this meant at the time – I was too busy creating junk securities using GI-Joe parts and selling them to my friends as AAA rated products - but I tell you if I was as old as I m now I’d have used that golden ticket to party at the Prince’s Palace of Monaco:

Founded in 1191 as a fortress by the Grimaldi family. The maze of rooms have been consistently built since the mid 16th century. It is an astounding palace that I advise anyone to see.

One of the most interesting rooms is the Mazarin room. This is where I dream of waking up as though my eroded San Francisco Victorian house choke full of nonsense was all but a nightmare. The room is lined with Italian gilded and painted polychrome boiseries by craftsman brought to France.

I would love to sit at this throne. “Bring me 20 turkey legs and a barrel of mash potatoes”, I would say. Then I would shout nonsense, maybe have the jester executed, and take a nap.

The Party Scene

Yes, the party scene in Monaco is considered the James Bond of secret agents. It’s classy, good-looking, has expensive tastes, and can be somewhat high maintenance.

“Wait... three measures of Gordon's; one of vodka; half a measure of Kina Lillet. Shake it over ice, and add a thin slice of lemon peel.”
- James Bond

You’ll find that your early evenings will begin in Monte Carlo – the most famous casino in the world with a minimum $500 bet at any table. This isn’t for light-weights and bitches. So don’t come here if you usually spend your nights drinking Heinekens at 1 star restaurants and hit up Treasure Island for dollar slots. This is where the Bond movie ‘Casino Royal’ was filmed.

Do enjoy a glass of Macallan scotch and a Columbian Cigar as you gamble your 4 years of alpha from your hedge fund in craps. Don’t cry – you can always make it back right?

Private Yacht parties are the most fun here since they usually have the three essentials; models, endless champagne, and enough global economic chitchat to make Paul Krugman explode. The only real way to get into these parties if you are common folk is to be either an extraordinarily good-looking girl or know someone that knows the yacht owner. A.K.A ‘club scene in LA’.

The clubs are rather interesting as well. There are 6 main clubs: UXCLUB, Sparco Café, Symbol, Jimmy’z, and Le Box. Bottle service here is equivalent to Pure or Excess in Vegas – it’s very expensive but it’s worth it in the end. Below is Jimmy’z, a very popular spot

So there you have it young vaulting entrepreneurs and ambitious young reachers. The spot of all spots. Now proceed to remove the revolver from your dome in your cubicle and start hustin’ it.

-Trevor

New York, New York

2010-01-04T08:48:00.000-08:00

I don't want to get you drunk, but, ah, that's a very fine Chardonnay you're not drinking. " - Patrick Bateman

New York is akin to that Chardonnay, the one too pricey, that you are not allowed to embrace but you're unmistakably too young and too broke to get a real taste. You could splurge to buy the 1957 chardonnay from Burgandy but you'd rather not because you...you...well…come on you need to invest it within your 401k! To see the real high society of New york and all it has to offer you need to poney up the cash equivalent to bail out Zimbabwe. Thus, don’t move there unless you are making well over 6 figures.

Ahhhh the people, the sky rises, -6 degree parties, the rat kings that are fused together via filth and become a 12 headed rat. As you may or not know I visited new York for 8 days and I now know everything about this city.

Let's break the city down into the 4 divisions starting with…

The Women of New York

The NY Model:

To get a NY Model you must make in excess of $500K. If you don’t and still get a NY Model she must not be from New York. And now you are just wasting my fucking time. You'll find these types at private pent house parties, never at bars, and possibly at the VIP booth in the Meat Packing. These are the power players of New York in reality. Behind every Hedge Fund Manager is a NY Model girl which is calling the shots. Behind every celebrity or Aristocrat playboy is a NY Model whining. Forget the Free Masons, it's the New York Model cult that's running the world. Many people ask me; Trevor, damn man how do I get one of those. I say...

If you have to ask, then you don't have a chance chief.

The NYU Student:

Tour through the east village around Friday night after finals week and let your subjacent regions do the talking. It’s as easy as hitting a beach ball with a tennis racket. These girls are suffused with hipster ideals like which scarf to drape around your neck (this depends on which country is being persecuted) or why kambutcha tea is so last year. To get one of these girls just say this:

“I have lemon grass soup and organic celery bread back at my house where we can turn on NPR and discuss which American Apparel jacket is so “flagrant-free”. “

You’ll actually go back in time due to a physics quaternion special reality on how fast you will seal the deal with The NYU girl. You’ll actually break the space time continuum.

For the less hipster NYU student all you need to do is quote some Rene Descartes and give your best impression of Jay Leno and you are sold faster than a AAA mortgage security to an investment bank circa 2006.

The somewhat attractive working professional (SAWP’s):

These types are usually defined as moderately to pretty attractive with a slight shield for men. They like to go to parties and have money spent on them but lack the quality NY models have for the transaction to often occur. You’ll find these types in trendy upper west side bars, Meat Packing District, or perhaps a midtown bar like Stone Rose in Columbus Circle.

They are most likely not from New York but love the city and are subscribing to the sex and the city lifestyle. Yet despite this, they usually lack the income or friends to get into the high-society parties where said lifestyle would frequent. They are more like “Somewhat Sexy Barely Living in the City”. Anywho, these girls usually frequent the Fendi stores but don’t yet have their mega-baller husband to make all their dreams come true like Mr. Big. So they tell the Fendi sales rep they just aren’t into the style of the bag. But hey, what are you going to do eh, you’ve got to save money to get into the meat packing clubs so you can meet your Trump Jr right?

How to get these girls you ask? Well all you need is a moderate income and the appearance that you are richer than you actually are and these ladies will melt quicker than chocolate pants on a hot day. Just remember, start actually forming a sentence with coherent or logical thoughts and these girls will move on. They don’t have time for your discussion on The South East Economic Summit, they’ve got cocktails to down and rich men to find!!

Unfortunately for these trophy-seeking SAWP’s, Jay Z has an answer, “mosta yall will fail”.

The slutty bridge and tunnel type (SBAT’s):

Ok, these types come into New York from Jersey, Queens, Bronx, etc and usually are found fist pumping and blasting Akon with their Guido buds. You'll find these folks in pretty much one place: The mother fucking meat packing district. They have fake tans worse than an Orange county porn star and about as much class and sophistication as Goofey the fucking dog. I’m not really going to give an analysis here because it’s been done so many times before. I highly recommend you stay away from these types unless you want her guido ex-bf breaking into your upper west side apartment and sobbingly try to fight you while his fake tan stains your walls.

The Attitude:

I spent a good week touring the city with my blog colleague buddy Armando. I've toured nearly every reputable section of the city and seen pretty much everything a Californian would see. How are the people in general you ask?

You ever watch Titanic and see people doing whatever it takes to save themselves? New Yorkers can be summed up as every-man-for himself types. There are exceptions so don't get all pissy*.

They aren’t bad people and are extremely fun to hang out with but don't get in their fucking way or they'll crush you like a 12 pound dumb bell on a slug. I guess as a San Franciscan I have a droplet of respect for my fellow man and usually try to think of other people first....Who am I kidding I'm worse than Joseph Stalin for fucks sake. I'd rather make a raft out of people if the earth flooded if it was easier than making a raft out of wood.

*There are really no exceptions

Cab Stealers and Symphony Stampedes

One rant real quick about the people... Some like stealing cabs in front of you because they are fucking subhuman and deserve to be launched into space a la 1 million bottles rockets. Or they sometimes scream and complain that lines are too long at the symphony as though we are boarding the last train before Cloverfield annihilates the city. It’s a symphony for fucks sake, not serious business!! The next person that whines about 3.78 nanseconds of lost time will be choked out.

What to do there?

If you want the real answer on what to do then go pick up a Fromer’s Tourist Guide and go fuck yourself senseless. Here is where I’d go (I’d still do all the touristy stuff like Rock Tower or Times Square).

Check out little Italy before China takes it over. It’s got great bars, a wide variety of wines. You might even find a gas mask sex bong:

Upper West side is great if you are a non-goy, but for all others you may find it shvitzeling your shnoze. It’s a beautiful area of town filled with a lot of history like John Lennon’s death and Carrie’s Apartment. If you are going to get a hotel I’d look into On The Avenue as it’s relatively inexpensive yet ripe with young/fun people and good views.

East Village is fun as the people are more down-to-earth and interesting. You’ll find a ton of local-type bars you won’t find downtown with a tad of charm and a hint of puke smell.

I’d avoid Meat Packing unless you have a ton of cash or serious connections.

I’d also check out drinks on top of the Mandarin Hotel for a view of the city. Also, for a great view of central park hit up Stone Rose Lounge in the Time Warner Building.

All in all New York is one of my favorite cities even if it is as expensive as a diamond encrusted Bentley. There is literally endless museums, bars, events, and tourist attractions to keep you busy. Now Get to it!

South France

2009-07-20T10:13:00.000-07:00

Here, here astigmatic ladies and gentlemen, I, Trevor (Financial Sock Puppet) with my trusty

blog colleague Armando, have given you an intro into the world of provocation outside your pathetic cubicle with pulchritudinous debauchery. Allow me to take a break from my financial wizardry and present to you the following emerald...

" But Financial Sock Puppet, who are you, what do you do exactly, and what is the point of your relentless rambling with pictures?"

But but but but shut your mouth and sit the fuck down. Now it's time to separate the neat spots from the boisterous spots...This is a boisterous spot

This one is going to really make you consider quiting your fucking job slurping your directors wang like a melting chocsicle while you savagely adjust your knee pads and sigh indefintely to strapping on a backpack, and booking a one way discount travel ticket to France.

South Mother-Fucking France

I'm going to throw this out there (kind of like how I throw the skulls of Goldman Sachs asset bankers I find scouring through San Francisco), this is my favorite spot, my prime real estate, my choice retirement, my destiny... South France offers everything great about France without all the French people. I love it so much I'm going to make this a three part series:

Part 1 (current post): Covers the general region

Part 2 (deux): Cannes Film Festival ( Armando in spirit of the Agust Cannes Festival)

Part 3 (trois): Monaco (me)

Last time I was in France, I was sporting a t-shirt with an American flag...You'd have thought I was in war-torn Botswana by the amount of savagery I experienced for my garment. I literally had to kick the shit out of 3 Frenchmen. But not the case in South France where outrageous capitalism and riches that drape the landscape like the silk dress your girlfriend wears while we play "just the tip". And let's just face it ... that's American.

Unlike this car caught in Monaco which signifies all that is wrong with American car companies and all that is right with European...

South France is located in guess? That's right smart ass, South France, and it boasts a Mediterranean climate of dry cool air that makes for a nearly perfect yearly temperature of 75 degrees.

South France, colloquially known as le Midi, is a loosely defined geographical area consisting of the regions of France that border the Atlantic Ocean south of the Gironde, Spain, the Mediterranean Sea, Italy, and Switzerland south of the Jura. Le Midi includes:

§ Aquitaine

§ Midi-Pyrénées

§ Languedoc-Roussillon

§ Provence-Alpes-Côte d'Azur

§ Corsica

§ Rhone-Alpes

§ Auvergne

§ Limousin

We'll be focusing on the Provence-Alpes-Côte d'Azur region...

When I think of South France I think of white capri pants, DG glasses, a bottle of Champagne from Champagne, France and a yacht. I think this because that's exactly what this place is. A fucking massive party with enough Euroes spent every day to equal a decade of Somalia's GDP. This is no ordinary place, this is money and power.

"The richest one percent of this country owns half our country's wealth, five trillion dollars. One third of that comes from hard work, two thirds comes from inheritance, interest on interest accumulating to widows and idiot sons and what I do, stock and real estate speculation. It's bullshit. You got ninety percent of the American public out there with little or no net worth. I create nothing. I own. We make the rules, pal. The news, war, peace, famine, upheaval, the price per paper clip. We pick that rabbit out of the hat while everybody sits out there wondering how the hell we did it. Now you're not naive enough to think we're living in a democracy, are you buddy? It's the free market. And you're a part of it. You've got that killer instinct. Stick around pal, I've still got a lot to teach you."

-Gordan Gecko

Now that that's out of the way let's begin on our journey. Much of our focus will be on Cannes and Nice. Here is a breif review on Nice, my favorite spot

If you want to become acquainted with the culture of Nice and experience its atmosphere, stroll through the ochre coloured streets and listen to the Nicois, who speak their own language - Nissart. It is an Occitan dialect still spoken by some of the citizens and more intelligible than other non-extinct Provencal dialects.

Nice is an attractive destination frequented by tourists from all over the world. The city is not only renowned for its charm, but it has also become a hub of scientific, industrial and advanced technological research. Centres for researchers and scientists, such as the Acropolis and Sophia Antipolis, have been established in the city and its vicinity.

Beaches

With three different bodies of water along its coastlines, France has plenty of water front for its beautiful beaches, and a variety of settings to please any sunbather. From the warm crystal blue water of the Mediterranean Sea, to the long, sandy beaches of the Atlantic Ocean, to the picturesque coastline along the English Channel, French beaches are varied and plentiful. In addition, beaches in France are know for their liberal attitude towards bathing attire, as many sunbathers tan topless, or even nude. Which coast you hit depends on what you're looking for.

Imagine this shot:

You are running behind this girl after she just said she wishes a handsome American would blast her in the face like a Super Soaker full of tapioca.

This is on the Nice Beach, not nice like nice as in nice ass.... like niece, the thing you had when you were 16 because your sister was known as Xena Warrior Fuckcess in College. This beach above is known as the Famous promenade des anglais, fit for enjoying a sun tan after sipping Le Pastises*.

One thing you'll note that in the Mediterranean much like in Crete the beaches are littered with stones not often sand. This has it's ups and downs, the ups are that the inside of your shorts no longer feel like Saharan Wet Dream. The downs are that laying on this and walking on stones are not great. These can get very very hot on an August afternoon, so Sandals are a must. Never mind the girl in the above picture as her French feat are evolved to absorb maximum pressure and roughness. Much like their Vagina's.

You'll find that some of the beaches in South France are more sausage packed than a Munich Slaughterhouse. You need to know the best spots; There are a few around St. Tropez along the French Riviera. This area was the hangout of starlet Bridget Bardot, but today the hotels and clubs are packed year-round with Hollywood's hottest stars. This attracts beautiful women. Enough said...

I won't be greedy, I'll give my colleague Armando the second one on the left...In this case Mr Gordan Gecko greed is not so good.

This was taken right off the Saint Tropez Pier. A lovely shot...Yes I was talking about a picture.

Ok that's all fine and good but what's the beach of beaches? The beach to be seen? Plage Port Grimaud! Wealthy sunbathers and international beach bums cruise the beach. But don't let the crowds stop you. The Cote de Azur offers exciting beach options for any taste - and I mean any. Plage de Tahiti is notorious for its clothing-optional policy. And if you're bringing the whole family, make sure you stop by at least one of these gems: Plage de la Bouillabaisse, Plage des Graniers and Plage des Jumeaux, which also offers beach side playgrounds.

Looking for something else you self righteous fuck? How about Plage de Pampellone which has over three miles of beaches and hotels throughout the area. You'll find yacht harbors all along the famous Cote de Azur, or French Riviera. While you're taking a break and venturing from the beach or your hotel, check out the open-air markets, boutiques or local groceries. Pick up a bottle of olive oil from the area, or wine. Just don't chase that grape Vodka with the olive oil (I've done it, it sucks don't do it).

Night Life

The night life is very mixed throughout South France. But it's very very very good. There is a themed bar for everything, such Caliente, a South America themed Bar. It seems that party goers flock south for the summer leaving their British Pubs, Northern France Wine bars, Munich Brewerys, and American Douche Clubs to live the good life. Wait, cancel the good life this is the Exceptional life.

One place that is worth your wild/pleasure/party time is the Martinez Hotel, supposedly the Goddess of extravagant Party destinations in South France. Here is a review of this magnificent spot:

"During the Cannes Film Festival, the whole city comes alive with a certain party atmosphere......movie stars and stargazers fill the streets trying to see and be seen. The crowds trickle in and out of the posh hotels along the Boulevard De La Croisette trying to get into the next party! After people watching at an outdoor cafe outside of the Palais des Festivals (where the main show screenings took place), my friends and I made our way inside the exclusive nightclub at the Martinez Hotel.

They had private parties and fashion shows taking place inside. The dance floor was filled with gorgeous models), film and fashion execs......all bumping and grinding to the sounds of American hip hop. Later the music turned into more high energy Euro house."

I'll be sure to have my June Wedding here when I marry an exotic Persian girl with a Swedish model entourage that do everything together. You may say Jesus, Financial sock you surely are materialistic and shallow asshole. And I say to you...

Go fuck yourself.

I keep my integrity and business ethics to a maximum of three hooker deaths and 2 business enemy slaying a month...And that ain't bad. Besides, this criticism is usually coming from the Fuck stick McCunt rag who maxed his credit limits on a plasma TV and A HELOC to build a Factory designed wooden deck on your McMansion. Anywhoozerrrrr.

You'll find they have an excellent selection of bars and lounges to get your drink on, when you order house vodka they give you Grey Goose. $3 Euros for a shot of Goose....Sold. I find the Aristocratic European rebel girls who want to do coke lines that trail to Milan to stick it their Baron Fathers literally cover the Provence-Alpes-Côte d'Azur region.

Here is the loft Bar...The loft bar is a New York style lounge bar and before 11pm you can have a nice meal which is Asian spicy style of fish and or noodles. After 11pm the bar and sofas fill right up and the dance floor is heaving with party goers.This is a very trendy and popular bar and is well worth going to.

Oh and for the Dancers, go check out the The Noga Hilton Love Club which is a great Place to go dancing and unwind after a hard day of work. Note: Be prepare to pay top dollars for drinks. Drinks here cost more than a Carmen Electra Titty fuck.

You'll find that most of the younger hipper clubs/lounges are located in Cannes and are usually booming during the summer months. Nice has typically an older crowd, but brings consistent club expierinces year around with plenty of georgous women to toast to. Monaco (although not techncially France) but located in the Cote Azue region boasts very aristocratic night life year around. The women need a ferrari at the end of the night, not a cocktail, to get in their pants here, so good luck bachelors.

Next we'll be Covering the Cannes Film Festival. Here we'll give a background and analysis as well as a preview of what's happening this very August in Cannes!

*(Pastis is the most popular aperitif in France. Aniseed flavoured aperitifs (Pastis is made with anise, licorice and other aromatic plants) were developed in South France (Marseille) after World War I, when Absinthe, an alcohol that was considered as too dangerous, was forbidden.)

PHOTO OF THE WEEK: The Alps

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The Isle of Capri

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If the Island of Crete didn’t do much for you, then perhaps it is time to check your vitals and make sure you haven’t died yet sitting in your fluorescent-lit cubicle. Consider treating what’s left of you and your soul to our next paradise destination feature: the Isle of Capri. Nowhere else in the world can you find the perfect harmony of gelato ice cream and flowy-dress-wearing Italian girls existing in peaceful tranquility. Add this paradise to your photo album and you will make Magellan look like his idea of traveling was hitting up the International House of Pancakes.

A Brief History:

The Isle of Capri was the subject of intense battles between the French and British. In 1806, the French troops occupied the island until the British returned, converting it into a naval base for England. Two years later, Jaochim Murat re-conquered Capri until about the end of he Napeolonic era. In 2002, the island was conquered by George Clooney and remains as such to this very day.

Traditional Italian girls engaging in Italian girl tradition:

A traditional afternoon in Capri:

The Nightlife

The Italians have always been firm believers that there is always plenty of time to sleep when you are dead. A night out to Anema de Core, the most popular dance club on Capri, will certainly help to beef up your obituary. However, If you’re looking for a more tranquil arena to exercise your game, the O Guarrachino, located at Via Castello 7, provides for a social atmosphere in a local tavern setting where you can watch with your friends as the women flock by on their way to Anema de Core. Fellas, remember, pick-up lines don’t work in Italy, or America, or anywhere for that matter. If you want to have success with the women of Capri, the right seductive glance should suffice:

Gelato Fundamental Analysis:

Needless to say, gelato is the signature dessert of Italy. Folks, not much need for an analysis here. Only a warning. Extended exposure to gelato may, over the course of time*, add 10-15 pounds to your midsection. Worth it. Now if you will, somebody please GET ME THE FUCK OUT OF HERE!

*In some cases, by the afternoon.

The Island of Crete

2009-06-09T13:36:00.000-07:00

Yes, the Island of Crete, where else could you find naked Nordic Girls on vacation drinking ouzo and begging for your american accent to break their chastity belt? Crete is the largest of the Greek islands. It was the center of the Minoan civilization (ca. 2600–1400 BC), the oldest Greek civilization. And with that in mind, they've had a lot of time to get this island evolved for insane nude beaches and natural scenery. But if Nude beaches are your thing you might take a trip to Eos instead where you won't see naked 75 year old German men.

The Nightlife

The nightlife here is the supposed contemporary center of Southern Europe party stops. One of the most talked about places to stop on Crete is Malia where I found hot Swedish tourist girls riding Bulls is the norm ( at least I hope so). Insufficient to say, my research of Malia came up with some inconclusive results on whether Malia is indeed the primary spot, so many inconclusive results that I had to review the results over and over again. Like this one:

As you may have noticed in the background, the island has its lions share of atrociously pathetic Greek men. Watch out ladies, make sure your make-up is looking flawless, these Greek men boast a specatcular infastructure of political and technological success...Yes, a country whose only type of Political or Economic success has to be traced before Christ. I jest though. In my humble opinon next to Sweden, Greek girls are the statuesque of elegance. These women are typically spiritual and traditional and as words goes they love americans*.

It's not worth hitting the clubs much before 1am and the serious stuff doesn't take off until much later. Then the drinking, dancing and degenerate behaviour continues till dawn. New pubs and clubs, many of them British owned, come and go but there's always a plentiful supply of sports bars, theme bars, cocktail bars, Irish nights, techno, trance and whatever else you want from a a complete fucking debauchel. The main towns of Iraklio, Hania and Rethymno all have a lively nightlife with numerous music bars and dance clubs where you can take your pick of international chart music, Greek pop or traditional Cretan entertainment or on the more important side; fat British and dumb American girls.

A traditional Greek girl:

A traditional Cretan dance:

Cretian food and drink analysis:

Cretans live the longest in Europe, and it is hard to know whether this good health comes from their genes, the food, the climate, exercise afforded by living on a steep slope, or the pace of life. The Cretians have an amazing array of foods. and local drinks each differying slightly from island to island. Raki, an alcoholic drink which borders on battery acid. It is quite potent. Many bootleg versions are made but it all tastes pretty much the same. It is made from grapes after the juice that is used for wine. It is given at the end of every meal and is customary to drink one "shot" at the end to help in digestion. It doesn't go down very easy but that is part of the fun right? On the food side you have things like Taramasalata : cod roe pate (fabulous) and dolmades which are stuffed vine leaves. Another tasty delight you may try is Tiropita/Tiropitakia : little filo pastry pies filled with salty feta cheese.

*which in my book is a negative if anyone actually likes us, But in this case I'lll make an exception.

Introduction

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When I was but a curious, young minded buck getting into trouble, formulating plans, and seeking the path of fortune I envisioned a debauchery of boats, Axis-envisioned cars, gold bullions, and models per continent when I hit 30. As the late James Furber said, "Why do you have to be a nonconformist like everyone else?"

So I seek the dark weed-covered path covered in posion oak with Incan jungle traps.

But to learn how to avoid the darts and to watch my step into the traps of mal vivacity spikes I have learned to subdue my misery by escaping to the unexplored and unfamliar. These presienct day dreams are what keep me from falling into a Patrick Bateman sense of wordly outlook.

So I'll provide you with a place I'd rather be than where I am now with a bit of commentary on the destination. I shall deem these to be comedic but to be fair and to use Market to mark valuation I'll deem these posts to be completely shallow and narrow minded. So please if you will.....Please get me the fuck out of here.