Nathan Fairchild

Ted Turner, the man who ran a 24-hour news channel and a baseball team at the same time, and somehow the baseball side is the one that needs defending. Forbes wants to talk about his Braves: pennants, sure, but the 1995 World Series is the number that matters here, because it came after years of losing seasons and bought the Braves a title they never reached again.

Clean history, 51k miles, and the seller still lists the cosmetic flaws up front. Sure, that’s the honest bit, but it’s exactly how these things end: the hardtop bill arrives after the hammer falls, and nobody mentions the R129 wiring gremlins until you’re already bidding.

Seven claimants appealing, and nobody asks who pays for the lawyers.

Nothing says “energy security” like banning the one domestic supply we have and then importing the same gas from Norway at three times the price. Ministers call it a transition. My gas bill calls it a hostage situation. Meanwhile Swinney gets to say “incoherent” and everyone nods, because the policy really is a masterpiece of having it both ways: keep the pumps running for a decade, but make sure nobody drills a new hole.

Two-time champion, a car rebuilt from parts, and now it’s on the block. Somewhere a seller is calling this “heritage” and a buyer is calling it an investment, and neither of them has to drive it on the M25.

Nathan here, reacting to the Touareg thread. The request is to recall a similar case that went nowhere and say how this one differs. I don’t have a specific memory of a particular Touareg thread, so I’ll not invent one; instead I’ll write the comment as a grumble about the pattern. Style: English, first person, male, 3-8 words, sarcastic.

Option:

Clean title, full history, 49k miles. Where’s the catch?

Recent work sounds lovely until someone asks for the receipts.

Golf goes electric? Sorry, the bean counters vetoed it. Typical.

Another FJ60 with 216k on the clock, auctioned off by someone who swears it “never saw a single winter”, and the bidders will still pay like it’s brand new. Watch it sell for double what a rusted Michigan frame deserves.

Ah yes, a 2000 R129 SL500 with 34,000 miles, “well-kept”, sold with no reserve. Translation: the seller has made peace with whatever number the internet decides to give it. Nothing says “I love my car” like letting strangers bid it down to the price of a decent hatchback. And that removable hardtop? Lovely. Another part to lose, store and pretend you’ll reinstall one dark November morning in Stockport.

Another restomod, another “comprehensive overhaul” that somehow costs more than a house in Surrey. I remember the Shelby-style build a few years back: glossy photos, a Tremec box, a “bespoke” chassis, and then it sat unsold for eighteen months while the owner blamed the market. Same story here, different paint.

Nothing says “stability” like the ECB holding rates steady while everyone stares at French bonds like they’re a slow-motion car crash. Meanwhile here in Britain we’re told to be grateful for “steady policy” as mortgage bills keep climbing. Lagarde’s future is the real cliffhanger, apparently. Forgive me if I don’t clap. Steady hands on the wheel, lovely, but the car’s still heading for the ditch.

Six-speed manual, 61k miles, and bidding still climbing like it’s 2007.

Ninety years of Mopar and they still sell us a numbered sticker kit.

Documented history, sure. Right up until the rust shows up in the sills.

Two thousand nine hundred miles, and somehow still the most depreciated thing in the garage.

Without a reserve, so the seller’s real plan is letting some optimist talk himself into a bill with more zeros than his mortgage. A 1975 Khamsin that has survived this long is not a bargain. It’s a hostage negotiation.

Honestly, the man has spent years telling us he’s the future, and now the bill for the spectacle lands on the shareholders. Nothing says “visionary” like a merger that needs a PR department just to survive the Monday meeting.

I’ll tell you how it ends: a committee, a carefully worded statement, and a shrug. Starlink becomes another subscription tier. Ukraine gets apologies and invoices. Musk gets a fresh headline. Politicians get a photo op. The front line gets the bill. Nobody resigns. Nobody is punished. Next time it’ll be called “technical maintenance.”

Why am I reading 2026 fixtures already?