I thought I had accumulated some embarrassing regrets during my lifetime. However, after hearing about the colossal fuck up our British mate James Howells admitted to publicly 12 years ago on the BBC. I might start Facebooking some old flames to brag about my station in life. Because despite what my ex-wife will most likely tell you, compared to this Crypto-dumpster fire, I am Mr. Responsibility. Anyone who makes me feel the “Shark Tank” Panel would unanimously choose me over them 10 out of 10 times in a head-to-head matchup. That’s someone deserving as much media attention about his sad sack cause as humanly possible. Because if accountability is being graded on a bell curve, this “Stunard’s” story will do wonders for the rest of us.

Although one day this story might have a happy ending, that day is not today. In fact, this story has legitimately gotten much worse over time. With each passing day, the dollar amount of his lost booty soars, making each chapter of this hellscape seem all the more painful. Remember when Bambi’s Mother got shot in the opening credits. Imagine, rather than taking a turn for the better, as the Disney movie does. In this alternate version, Bambi gets kidnapped from the orphanage and is sold into the backwoods venison sex trafficking trade. Just an endless nightmarish loop till the closing scene. Well, that’s pretty much James Howells’s depressing existence after receiving today’s harsh judgment from the court.

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That’s why, as an investment, crypto is worthy of all its hype. But as a currency, no thanks. To work extremely hard to earn something incredibly valuable, then to lose it as easily as a pair of reading glasses, is a hard pass for me. I can promise you if I had a $750 million in hundred dollar bills in hand, your boy wouldn’t be going around misplacing that in between the comfy seat cushions, now would he. However, the more I ponder the rush of finding three-quarters of a bil hiding behind the hamper. Perhaps I do get slightly aroused by the thought of that treasure hunt. That kind of Russian roulette-style rush does sound intoxicating. Never mind, what I was thinking, that’s much too triggering for a middle-aged man with an addictive personality.

In Today’s Palate Cleanser, we have a bit of racial profiling comeuppance. When two beat cops mistake an FBI agent for a suspected random fugitive. I love how this slow-playing fed revealed the punchline during this excessive power trip by the Po-Po.