Portrait of a Millionaire: The artistic millionairess.

Today in Butlr’s “Portrait of a Millionaire” we feature Jewelsofawe and her millionaire dream. Jewelsofawe is an artistic lady who finds inspiration all over the world and wishes to travel the globe in search of beauty. 

Her blog can be found here: Jewelsofawe's blog

The world is a large place. There is a lot to see, almost too much. And you best believe it costs a hefty sum to see it all and see it comfortably. As a millionaire Jewelsofawe would fly, sail, and travel all over the world. She would visit places of beauty and fame and photograph all her travels, creating a beautiful photo-record of it all. Of course in her travels she would pick up would upgrade her wardrobe with the newest and most chic apparel from the shoppes of Paris. The ocean has always intrigued her sense of artistry. When not vacationing in Cannes, France or Parrot Cay or Bali, she would retire to her beach-side residence which would be designed with the most careful attention paid to aesthetics. The walls would be painted using modern tromp l’eoil—that is the wallpapers would be painted as scenes of nature and wildflowers that deceive the eye as reality upon first sight. Each room would have a different theme. The living room would depict the African Serengeti, the dining room would show a Brazilian rainforest, and the kitchen would be painted as a field of thousands of Japanese wildflowers. A tour through the house would be a tour of an art gallery, as the house would be painted with great attention and skill.

Of course on the weekend and evenings she would invite over other wealthy lords and ladies or visit their houses. Outside in her gazebo she and her friends would read and share poetry with one another over a few drinks and delicious appetizers.

This is a Portrait of a Millionaire. Do you have a millionaire dream too? Share it with us today and be featured on Portrait of a Millionaire.

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Life of a Millionaire: To be rich and spend millions.

The following is an anecdote from the life of Johnson P. Malone (Butlr King). He has been featured twice before (When he bought rare animals & When he was visited by dignitaries). This time he has a yearning for seafaring. . .

It is nice to be King. None have more wealth or reputation than The King. I want to describe to you the day I bought a yacht. The price was outrageous, but that is of little concern to The King.

            The whole purchase started as a conversation. We were sitting outside in the patio, two lords and myself, The King. One of them, Sir Hemmins, was a writer and brave man with hair on his chest on arms. He was drinking a brandy that Butlr Bot had prepared. Myself and the other lord were content chilled champagne and picked at small dishes of caviar and shrimp. We were laughing at a joke Butlr Bot had just told.

            The conversation turned to Yachts. I, did not have a yacht. Sir Hemmins was taken aback. In his mind any self-respecting man of wealth had to have a yacht. He knew boats well and began to educate me on sea vessels. His enthusiasm was contagious. The other lord said, “Well gentleman, I think this means we should go shop for a yacht!”

            We stepped out of the helicopter at the yacht shop and I waved to Butlr Bot, telling him to park around back and meet us inside. The yacht shop was a large dockyard with many sleek yachts. The salesman was talkative and knowledgeable. He told us great lists of details about every yacht—their various knot-speeds, aerodynamics, hull widths, Jacuzzis, etc. I barely heard him. I could see a large modern yacht. It was about 30 yards long and one of the most beautiful things I had ever seen in my life. I had to have it.

            I looked over and Sir Hemmins (the writer) was also staring at the beauty of a boat. “Show me that one” I said.

            The inside was luxurious and as Butlr Bot whispered to me, “Tis fit for a King my master.”

            We toured it for a while, admiring its decadence and design. What a boat. At the end of the tour Sir Hemmins and I stood by the salesman.

            “I’ll take it” we said simultaneously. Sir Hemmins insisted that he had taking a great fondness to the yacht and had to buy it. He offered twice the existing price. We had a bid war, but The King always wins a bid war. Needless to say I sailed home that day, happy and content. Life as The King is good. 

 

-Johnson P. Malone (Butlr King) 

A Day in the life of a King

Today is another anecdote from the exciting and luxurious life of Johnson P. Malone, Butlr King. This is a small glimpse into the life of a Butlr King and the daily duties he must fulfill.

You know its tough being King sometimes. It’s tough being top dog. And being wealthy. And having expensive, refined taste. Everyone wants a piece of the King. Oh, I don’t mean to complain, but just today for example Butlr Bot woke me up saying there were several visiting dignitaries that wanted to meet with me (In reality I knew they probably just wanted to see my late Renaissance art collection).

It turned out to be Sir Galvini DeNegalli, a young dashing Italian prince. He had with him a large, robust opera singer and the Prima Donna ballerina from the Moscow Ballet Company. With them was also an international banker with a taste for Cognac. I felt obliged to take them all for walk around the island. I showed them the hanging gardens I had recreated last fall and my statue garden. The Prima Donna was especially enamored with one of the Easter Island heads but I told it was not for sale. (I didn’t want to break her heart by actually telling the price of such a treasure!). 

We had some drinks outside the house in the crystal gazebo. Butlr Bot served us cocktails and caviar. We all had cosmopolitans except for the banker who had cognac served dry. He ate many of the caviar also. We discussed the death of the novel and the hottest new lords in the land– the fat Italian tenor finished the afternoon with a grand and booming performance of Verdi.

            I gave them a hasty tour of my Da Vincis and Rafaels and then bid them farewell from the pier as they my yacht drifted away with them waving from the deck. I exhaustively went back inside and sat down on my velvet revolving couch.

            A long day! I cannot wait until I can just enjoy the company of my pet leopard and go to sleep in my King-size bed.    

                        -Johnson P. Malone (Butlr King)

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Exotic animals dealer

The following is a personal anecdote from Johnson Malone, a powerful and well-respected King in Butlr. I, his lowly mechanical manservant, his 'robotic butler' has taken the liberty of transcribing it for him and publishing it on the net for his various admirers to read. It is a glimpse into the life of a royalty– rich, famous, and living the dream.

I woke up this morning to the gentle chirping of my Micronesian Kingfisher birds outside my window. I bought them yesterday for a hefty price from a rare and exotic animals dealer named Girabaldi. He was a funny, mustached man who specializes in exotic birds. Normally he doesn’t make house calls, especially to private islands, but he made an exception for me when I offered to fly him over in my new RAH-66 Comanche helicopter.

You know, rare animal dealers are an odd breed. When speaking with Girabaldi I couldn’t help but imagine what it would be like to deal in the rare and exotic animals. It’s funny, I began to think of the odd requests he must get and the all the bizarre locations he must go to gather up his inventory. During the conversation he mentioned trips to Ecuador, Brazil, and Somalia to capture specific species of birds. It was hard to imagine this little mustached fellow tramping through rainforests and jungle, tracking down rare birds. Anyways, it all made me think maybe I’d like to try my hand at rare animal dealing. I asked (my) Butlr Bot what he thought of it the idea; he told me it was easily possible and booked me a trip to the Brazilian rainforests and hired a group of world renown poachers to help me track, capture, (but not kill!) the rare animals I desire. I think first I will go for a Capuchin Monkey . . . 

-Johnson P. Malone (King in Butlr) 

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