“A Ferrari For Every Man, Woman and Child!”



If you caught the premier of “The Real Housewives of New York City,” you would know that, according to Real Housewife Bethenny Frankel anyway, owning a Ferrari is clutch for many a wealthy Manhattanite. And just when we thought that a Birkin bag and a closet of couture were all we needed to be valuable people.  Well, now that we are clear on the necessity of owning luxury sports cars, it’s time for some bargain shopping.  We can’t go for a Corvette, since we are all-too-aware that it is the “poor [wo]man’s Ferrari.”  We also can’t get a bottom-of-the-line Ferrari, since we know how sad it is when people scrimp and save for a Mercedes C-class.  We’re not going out like that.  No, what we need is a Fakari.  For one-tenth of full retail (so for €20,000, or approximately $31,000), we too can score a fine rendition of a classic Ferrari.  Sure, our Fakari would be a collage of aftermarket parts, original parts of other automobiles, and original Ferrari parts, but surely they would be nowhere near as conspicuous as the fake handbags (formerly?) sold on Canal.  So tell Bloomberg to keep closing down those handbag peddlers to make room for some Fakari dealers.  What with my $4,000 handbag, heaven knows I don’t have the money to fly to Rome and comb their back alleys for counterfeit automobiles. 

3 Responses to ““A Ferrari For Every Man, Woman and Child!””

  1. 1 Your Brother

    I think it is admirable for one to scrimp and save for a Mercedes 240 or 300 that they pay for out of their savings from using waste vegetable oil instead of the grease of long deceast dinosaurs that convey bad kharma on us all in the form of air pollution, high fuel costs, oppressive dictatorial regimes, costly wars, and eventual armegeddon from global climate change or nuclear war.

    But that’s just me.

  2. 2 Queen Samantha

    I wasn’t referring to you and your 1987 Mercedes Veggie-500. It’s not always all about you, Brother. I was referring to David and his C-240. OOOOOOOOOH, snap! No I di’int …

    Btw, can you please stop posting as “Your Brother”? I get the sense that you’re going to embarrass me soon. It’s like a sixth sense little sisters have. I can feel it coming.

  3. 3 Your Brother

    It’s a 1982, thank you very much.

    And it is a brotherly instinct to love and protect one’s little sister – even when tested by embarassing talk of boxes, masking tape, and hair…

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