Oh I beg your pardon young man! It seems you have taken offence to my post! My sincerest apologies for I have not sought to blemish your flimsy reputation. I merely posted that query for I am truly inquisitive about the possibility of a fellow connoisseur of fine automobiles on this message board. You have an acquaintance that is the proud owner of a multi-million stable? I can do one better my friend, I personally own multiple Ferrari's, Aston Martin's, Porsche's and quite a fair quantity of other marques you can only admire in your acquaintance's garage. The Phantom for pick-up at the airstrip in my estate or a few laps on my track in the Enzo for when I feel the need for speed. The 288 GTO when I wish to decimate the country roads, leading to and from the bungalow, in true retro fashion. I shall convey one particular thought that comes to my mind when I peruse your posts; they reek of pre-pubescence. You young man are what we call a poser. The only people that claim to have nothing to prove are only liars, poor or just plain old commoner blood. You young man, will sit in that spot until we deem otherwise. I doubt you have an established business young man. Your only business it seems is pretend play on the internet. And 'marital break-up'? You reek of FAGGOTRY young man and you know how that's regarded in the Old Boys Club. You shall not dare address yourself as an individual with any class or legacy. We laugh at you from our cricket greens and our golf clubs and our anchored yachts. You are a peasant labourer. Understand. Dreams? Oh no young fellow. They are but the harsh realities you must face up to. I lay down miles upon miles in my exotic automobiles while you will only amount to the lowly peon who can ramble on an internet message board. By no means anything worthy of mention. My meticulously maintained F50 costs more to detail than what you may pay in rent every year young man. I am soon to address a gathering of very wealthy individuals in my villa. I shall be sure to mention a certain 'MdS' that prowls the world wide web and its message boards looking for aristocrats to dupe. Now be divine and bugger off lad. I have to alert my PA; my 'personal groomer' has to to shine up my shoes while I wait for my chauffeur to take me to the garden where I will host this charity gala. I do not feel anger. I feel pity because I know that you will never amount to anything in your entire life. My nose is high in the air and I shall bask for a 1,000 years. For a 1,000 years. P.S. This is being dictated to my PA in case you thought I was wasting precious keystrokes addressing a lowly peasant.