There are lots of “influencers” who are kind of sketchy. Well, all of them. But for someone like myself, with a memory for past photographs, it can be a bit of a problem.

There is one fellow who goes by “Zeus” who looks remarkably like an older guy in mid-midlife crisis, who wears what he (and the Instagram generation) think is the finery of wealth, and poses with women getting into and out of ‘his’ many sportscars. There is lots of footage of him escorting various women and their boob jobs from hotels, to cars, and vice versa, in Monaco, etc. I guess most of the Instagram generation don’t realize that there are mansions for rent, etc.

There is even a clever entrepreneur who shall not be named who has a fake interior of a Gulfstream V that you can rent for a day. This is all within the real of practical special effects. I do _not_ need to materialize an actual instance of Godzilla, for crying out loud. Although, I can.

Because I am a horrible person (and I know nobody reads the comments, anyway) I used to sometimes comment on Zeus’ images that he is my favorite parking lot attendant, and I hope he gets to drive some more cool cars to the parking garage, soon. Mostly, I hope he washes his hair before it falls out from all the weird products he is shoveling into it.

In case you missed my point: it appears that the Tate brothers archive of cars is, actually, rented.

Holy fucking shit, are you kidding me? Young men fell for that? I think they should be less worried about how to get laid, and more worried about how to stop slamming their own head in the door. These guys are trying to fake how they spent a relatively insignificant amount of money, compared to – say – sponsoring a fusion experiment. No, don’t think about it, it’s safe if you don’t think about it. I promise I will not be sponsoring any large implosions. Meanwhile, I thought you guys might enjoy some of my recent snapshots of me inspecting my new boat that I just bought from my OnlyFans membership sales:

It needs some spiffing up and a stripper pole but, it’ll do.

I bet you didn’t realize how profitable blogging at FTB is, did you? I was going to post a picture of the A turret cocaine locker but some imbecile (who is now on report) filled it with 19-inch high explosive shells. This is all the fault of my date for dinner last friday, who said she expected to be “picked up in something expensive” and I thought that I’d better not go with something simple like a sports car. Life was complicated by the fact that my entire schwere panzer team was having transmission overhauls. But, everything was OK, or seemed to be:

There was some argument over parking but fortunately my captain and his crack crew prevailed. [Did you notice my date carefully selected a Worth original that matched the color scheme of the ship? I think someone is reading our codes!] Anyhow, I feel bad for wimpy little gomers like those Tate boys who are driving cars that are merely a prince’s ransom, let alone a significant chunk of a maritime power’s economy. I read the A-list and they’re down around the T’s. Ugh.

Unfortunately, and I did not forsee this, the restaurant was one of those horribly modernist places, and the chef was trying to show off his new season of Land Rover themed cuisine which was a flop followed by a grinding crash.

I was furious with myself for not staying aboard and just having sushi at the admiral’s table, but them’s the breaks.

I noticed (and appreciated) GPT’s making my fictitious dinner date age-appropriate. I did specify that she be wearing a tasteful Worth original, but the other judgement calls were the AI’s.

I also noticed that it served my Steak A La Land Rover “A point”, as I like it, which would catch me sneers in Monaco unless we were dining under the 19-inch guns of my yacht.

Theme Music for this post. Its worth it. “all that gold don’t mean thing”