I sat with Harry on the deck of his yacht, we were attended by one of his servants who was armed with large bottle of brandy to help us in warding off the winter cold. The yacht sat at anchor in the harbour and we were discussing various business ventures.
Harry was a good fellow. Albeit one with a complexion alarmingly like cloudy piss. He took several furious puffs on his pipe before exhaling a sweet smelling smoke cloud of gigantic proportions. He was always one for the drama. He leant an elbow on his knee and gave me a wicked grin.
Have you heard of ICO's old chap?
IC bloody what? No, pray tell. Is it some kind of exotic shrimp?
Harry barked a laugh.
Oh no old bean. Much better than shrimp. It means Initial Coin Offering or some such twaddle.
And? I have plenty of coin. You don't have to fret on that score Harry old fellow. I have coins quite literally falling out of my arse.
Harry leapt to his feet.
Not real coins my esteemed friend. Digital coins! Coins that only exist in those blasted computer machines.
Hmm, well. What of them? If I can't touch it or taste it or slap it with my tallywhacker then I am not interested.
Harry's eyes shone like bullion. He explained in a somewhat tedious and lengthy way that it was all the rage on the internets. I yawned as politely as I could whilst thinking that he ought to watch himself. He was sounding like quite the jackanape.
I interrupted his flow.
So let me get this straight. You create one of these 'coins.' You make some outlandish claim about what it can achieve. Then you sell millions of said coin to the peasantry?
Harry made a dog being sick in a shoe face.
Well, um, yes. That's about the size of it.
I glared at the servant and motioned for more brandy. I disapprovingly noted he had a face like a boiled ham.
To be honest old fellow, I am finding all this coin chat rather dreary. What does this have to do with me?
Harry stopped pacing back and forth. He sat back down and pulled his chair closer to mine.
Well old chap. I have decided to create my own coin! The Gentleman's coin. I shall call it GCoin. What do you think?
I sighed. Today was becoming most tedious. Perhaps we should stick a firecracker up the servant's arse for some entertainment? His face couldn't get any more purple.
And what, pray tell, does your magic Gentleman's coin do? How will you sell that one to the plebs?
Harry beckoned for our glasses to be filled to the top. He then slugged his straight down before proudly exclaiming.
You will love this old chap. I will state that the holders of the coins will be considered Gentlemen and that the more they have the more gentlemanly they will be! Perhaps they could start accepting them in the Club? All sorts of places!
I froze. Slowly I put my brandy down on the table and rose to my feet.
I beg your pardon Harry?
He grinned like a masturbating Labrador.
Amazing isn't it! We will tell them that they can become gentlemen simply by holding this coin!
I felt a coldness within that no amount of brandy could cure. I picked up my gloves and carefully slid them over my hands.
Let me get this straight Harry. You wish to make it so that people can buy their way into becoming a Gentleman?
Yes old chap! Amazing idea isn't it? Do you want in? Shall we conceive a partnership?
I picked up my cane and took a long puff on my pipe. Quick as a whip I lashed out, my cane clubbing Harry to the ground.
You! Give me the Brandy.
I pointed my cane at the lobster faced servant holding the half empty brandy bottle. He shakily passed it over.
I bent over the Harry who was holding the side of his head and thrashing about squeaking like a shaved hamster in an anus.
Whatdya do that for??!
I shook my head sadly.
You want to let any old peasant in the club Harry, if they buy a handful of your grubby coins? You want anyone to be able to call themselves a gentleman by slipping some internet giblet a couple of shillings? Have you gone the full bonker?
I raised the bottle high.
I cannot let this happen Harry.
I smacked the bottle down a couple of times until his squeaking stopped. I pointed at the servant menacingly.
What's your name man?
Eh, me mam called me Button milord.
Right Button, throw him over the side and come with me. You're mine now.
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Later I had cause to contemplate the folly of man as I sat at my pooter desk. Would that we could all be guided by a Gentleman's moral compass but sadly it is not the case. I decided to log onto the chats. Let me see whom I can help this week with the...
SpamFarmer1: you are a real hero the this platform, I upvote all you post.
Uncle Boom: A hero eh? Let me guess... Now you want me to tickle your bing bongs?
SpamFarmer1: upvote and follow please
Uncle Boom: ok, voted and following 
SpamFarmer1: no I mean follow and vote me please
Uncle Boom: Hmmph, ok following @me. Now fuck off you annoying bastard before I set the dogs on you.
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SpamFarmer2: I like your posts. A lot of information. Perhaps too much.
Uncle Boom: Oh aye. Here we go.
SpamFarmer2: What do you mean? I just think you could tone it down a bit. Break your information down into bite sized chunks.
Uncle Boom: Are you sure you have the right meesterboom?
SpamFarmer2: I happen to need your help urgently so it looks like we are in a position to help each other out meesterboom
Uncle Boom: My my, isn't that a happy coincidence.
SpamFarmer2: If you upvote and follow I will do likewise.
Uncle Boom: Aha! There it is!
SpamFarmer2: what is it? I think we can help each other
Uncle Boom: I shall be as polite as I can given the circumstances... GET YOU AND YOUR FILTHY PENIS HANDS TO FUCK OR I WILL BEAT YOU WITH A STICK!
How odd, no reply?
Well, that was liberating. I feel I have done much good this week. Remember, if you have any questions you would like some gentlemanly advice on, then do not hesitate to contact me on the chat boards and remember discretion is assured as...