And from the Classical Files:
So on we go… but first, a pause for station identification:
And:
Speaking of body parts, try these:
And a little MILFy goodness, just to end it all.
Oh, and seeing this is a holiday, I’m taking the rest of the day off — celebrating Labor Day by not working.
See y’all tomorrow.
Probably the modern word I hate the most is this “influencer” tag. Fuck me, every totty with some kind of EeewwwChoob / TikTwat channel is now suddenly an “influencer” because her views of makeup / clothing / (whatever fad the younger audience of today are obsessed with) seem to cause advertisers to swoon with delight, according to the number of “followers” they are supposed to have according to some impenetrable measurement method.
There’s nothing wrong with the latter, of course: the Nielsen ratings were once the yardstick whereby advertisers could approportion their spending among the various TV stations and shows according to the shows’ audience size.
Or maybe it’s just sour grapes on my part, because these (mostly-brainless) girls are raking in the cash with their “content” — the latter being nothing but opinion (largely shaped, I assume, by the brands’ sponsorship of such). And apparently, being beautiful with large breasts increases their allure (no idea why).
I find it interesting that male “influencers” tend to have more actual content on their shows; the wonderfully-low-class Mat Armstrong, for example, has made hundreds of thousands of dollars (okay, pounds sterling) out of repairing crashed supercars — he’s just bought a house in England and another in Miami, so we can safely assume that his business is profitable — while stalwarts like Garand Thumb (two guys with actual expertise, being former SpecFor and Ranger operators) skimp along, apparently, with sponsorships from various gunny-type companies (but have a lot of fun along the way).
I suppose that even I could call myself an influencer, judging by the number of (tongue-in-cheek) complaints from people over the years, wailing about how they were perfectly happy with their firearms until they came to this website and were compelled — forced, even — to buy yet another gun they didn’t know they needed until I spoke glowingly about its allure and excellent qualities.
Did I get any kind of remuneration from this “influencing”? Don’t be ridiculous.
So yes, maybe I am jealous that today’s influencers make money hand over fist each week while I have made, at a rough guess, a few thousand dollars — over twenty years — from my type of influencing.
Of course, my own cussedness hasn’t helped, in that I refuse to take on advertising (I did, once, very briefly for a few months during the NoR days, until an advertiser complained that I’d said Bad Things about his industry and I told him to fuck off and pulled the plug on the whole thing). Ditto sponsorships, mostly because gun companies don’t need me when they have “gun writers” to pimp their products via the various gun magazines, but also because I absolutely refuse to be tied to any kind of influence over my opinions on, well, anything.
It also doesn’t help that my “likes” are confined to a really small list of products and such, either.
So I guess I am and have been my own worst enemy in this regard.
Oh well.
Here’s an unsolicited (and unpaid-for) recommendation (link in pic):
It’s a pre-WWII Sempert & Krieghoff tube-fed semi-auto chambered in 8x60mm, and it’s so beautiful it makes me swoon like a schoolgirl groupie. Okay, at $17,500 it’s not the cheapest gun you could buy, and good luck finding the obscure 8x60mm S ammo anywhere, which means it’s strictly for reloaders.
And its performance is pretty much on a par with its smaller 8x57mm Mauser cousin, which is plentiful and can be fired far more cheaply from rifles like this mil-surp K98k:
…which are sold everywhere and can be had for under $1,000.
But you have to admit, that one-of-a-kind Sempert sure is pretty. If you do decide to buy it, mention my name to the folks at Collectors, which will result in nothing more than a “who?” from them and not a single penny of kickback to me.
Par for the course, really.
And a Classical Thought:
We begin today’s deplorable show with a couple of public service announcements:
And on a related note: thinking about hospitals…
And some home truths:
And a relapse into our normal smut:
And going back to that hospital thing:
Stay healthy out there…
A Classical Thought:
And be warned, they go downhill very quickly from here…
And more or less on that train of thought:
And finally:
And from the Classics Department:
And on we go:
And speaking of strange positions:
Now get out of bed and go do something useful.
Lots of educational video to watch today, because… it’s the weekend!
One of the reasons why wealthy people are looking at hypercars as fungible assets and investment vehicles [sic] is because they are wealthy enough to ride the ups and downs of consumer demand — why, for example, a rusted-out 1950s-era Porsche 911 or 1960s E-type Jag can ask for, and get, a premium price for that piece of junk. Scarcity, of course, helps — which is why a rusted old 1956 Porsche 356 cabriolet will always be worth more than a worn-out 1975 Honda Civic: the first is worth restoring, the second is only worth recycling.
If you’re interested in learning about this business — even or especially if you can’t afford to play in it — then I would suggest you watch Cars & Money, Rob Moore’s excellent podcast channel with his partner, Carl Hartley of Tom Hartley Motors. Here’s one example. (All the podcast episodes are long, about twenty minutes too long in my opinion, but they’re peculiarly fascinating. This particular episode, you can quit at 1:28.00)
And speaking of watching, there’s the premium watch business, where Teddy Baldassarre, for example, plies his business. (Here’s one.)
But in this latter category, if you want to see all the costs of creating a watch collection — as an investment strategy — then please take a look at this one, (yeah, it’s A.I., but it’s factually correct) to find out how the big watch brands are bending collectors over the table:
(…and these guys are the worst, which is why I’ll never own a Rolex, because I’m not going to play their stupid game.)
Oh, and by the way: the actual purchase price of these items is only the first lightning-strike on the wallet. Then comes the (mandatory) servicing, the parts replacement, etc. etc. etc…. see how the insurance companies play ducks and drakes with your premiums.
Oh, and by the way, car manufacturers like Ferrari are equally guilty of the same kind of practices (which you’ll also learn from Cars & Money; watch out for the word “allocation”).
…and Porsche is just as bad.
If a fool and his money are soon parted, then the duration of “soon” is shrinking faster than a cheap Chinese cotton T-shirt in the clothes dryer.
And when baubles like watches and performance sports cars start becoming investment assets, the Finance Fucks in companies like Rolex are going to start making marketing decisions (pro tip: they already are).
It’s the utter cynicism of the whole business which gets up my nose. My only consolation is that the fools who’re being thus led around by the nose are the super-wealthy who can afford to pay those bullshit prices. And I have absolutely no sympathy for them.