Sweet Buttcoins

By Dimitris Vareltzidis

Sweet Buttcoins is about women and investments in cryptocurrencies (cryptos). They are both sweet to learn but very difficult to understand and master. One of the few girls who knew nothing about Bitcoins referred to them as Buttcoins, which was actually a very sweet mistake that inspired me to come up with the title of the book.My cryptos investments in 2022 were the best canvas to paint an interesting story. A real events story that combines my new endeavor in the cryptos world, interacting with women online, and my studies and experience in business administration (economics, business, negotiations, strategy, and marketing), as well as my hobbies.In this fascinating new world I chose to live from February 2022, luck plays a very important role. In cryptos, it is extremely difficult to distinguish real professionals from scammers. But as stated by Tom Cruise in the opening narration of legendary Color of Money, a 1986 movie directed by Martin Scorsese, starring Paul Newman and Tom Cruise as professional pool players: "Luck plays a part in nine-ball. But for some players...luck itself is not."I believe the story is interesting as it is inspired by real events, but it is even better if the reader listens to the songs and views movie trailers as their titles appear in it, in italics, or with their initials capitalized to recognize them. The songs, movies and series mentioned in the book as integral parts of the story are listed as appendix 1 for readers to enjoy, ideally simultaneously to reading the relevant sections of the book.The punchlines of the book are the following: a) cryptos are a goldmine but also a minefield and b) in investments and relationships, trust is the most important factor.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Fulton Books, Inc.
• Release date: Jun 3, 2024
• ISBN: 9798892210294

Book preview

Table of Contents

Introduction

Acknowledgments

Preamble

Chapter 1: One Click Away from Wendy, Mr. Ambassador

Chapter 2: Never Invest if You Don't Know the Sector? No, Mr. Warren Buffet

Chapter 3: New York, New York

Chapter 4: In Athens, Fucking Me with a Cactus

Chapter 5: Winner (?) Against All Odds

Chapter 6: Thailand, I Want Your Sex

Chapter 7: With or without You (Jeannie)

Chapter 8: The Final Cuntdown

Chapter 9: Is God Good?

Chapter 10: The Greek Phileas Fogg

Chapter 11: The Search Is Over

Chapter 12: Love Isn't Always on Time

Chapter 13: Cryptos and Social Media Women Are a Minefield

The Grand Finale: Recap in Categories

Postmortem

Appendices Appendix 1

The Glorious Sweet Buttcoins Soundtrack

Appendix 2

Appendix 3

Appendix 4

Email to Glenda dated July 8, 2022

Appendix 5

The Heaven Eleven (July 30, 2022)

cover.jpg

Sweet Buttcoins

Dimitris Vareltzidis

Copyright © 2024 Dimitris Vareltzidis

All rights reserved

First Edition

Fulton Books

Meadville, PA

Published by Fulton Books 2024

ISBN 979-8-89221-028-7 (paperback)

ISBN 979-8-89221-029-4 (digital)

Printed in the United States of America

To my beloved son, Antonis, and his yet-unborn sister

Dimitris Vareltzidis, son and father of Antonis was born on 26 February 1971 in Athens.

He has his name day, as only Greeks have, on 26 October. He wears number 26 on the back of his football jersey. His son, fifteen years old, also wears number 26; hence, his lucky number is 26.

He is left-handed like iconic leader Bill Clinton and right-footed like Zinedine Zidane, the greatest artist in football history, which forms a unique combination.

He has been educated in Athens College High School, Athens Business University and London Business School (MBA).

His career spans investment banking (Alpha Finance), corporate finance (KPMG), restructuring (Alvarez & Marsal), and working capital SME funding (CNL Capital), for over twenty-five years.

Since June 2023, he is the owner of an advisory and investments company name VarelCo.

Dimitris' hobbies include ski, football, tennis, padel, volleyball, box, cycling, cryptos, strategy board games, travelling, restaurants and bars. He loves parrot jokes.

He speaks fluently English and Greek, has a good knowledge of French, Spanish and Italian, and is terrible in German.

Sweet Buttcoins is his first book that will be followed by two more forming a trilogy on online scamming.

His email for interaction and a first meeting with his female readers, good-looking and less than fifty years old, is [e-mail].

PS: This short CV has been used several times as introduction of the author to beautiful social media women.

Introduction

This book is about women and investments in cryptocurrencies (cryptos). They are both sweet to learn but very difficult to understand and master.

One of the few girls who knew nothing about Bitcoins referred to them as buttcoins, which was actually a very sweet mistake, which inspired me to come up with the title of the book.

By way of introduction, I am Dimitris, a fifty-three-year-old external advisor to a private equity fund that invests in growing but overleveraged Greek companies, mainly in F&B, cosmetics, generic pharmaceuticals, and services sectors.

I love sports—namely, mountain ski, football, volleyball, tennis, squash, and lately padel and boxing. I play twice a month strategy board games with my good friends Stathis and Giorgos. I like investments and new ventures development. I usually go to fine restaurants and small bars with mainstream and rock music, and love movies and Netflix series.

Finally, I am left-handed and right-footed, a unique and strange combination.

Since I was a kid reading with thirst Agatha Christie and Jules Verne novels, and later as an adult savoring Jo Nesbo and Dan Brown's masterpieces, I never dared to dream of writing a book. I envied these great authors, and even some friends writers of hundred-page novels for their fantasy and abilities to stimulate their readers' imagination. I guess that is why books seldom have photos that curb our fantasies; otherwise, I would have charged this book double bucks flooding it with beautiful ladies' pictures and global landscapes.

Nevertheless, I was quite strong in high school in the lesson of essay and got myself a good grade to achieve the first position in the Athens business university exams. Hence, all these cryptos investments in 2022 were the best canvass to paint an interesting story. A real events story that combines my new endeavor in the cryptos world with women and my studies and experience in business administration (economics, business, negotiations, strategy, and marketing) and the aforementioned hobbies.

I believe the story is interesting as it is inspired by real events, but it is even better if the reader listens to the songs and views movies trailers as their titles appear in it, in italics, or with their initials capitalized to recognize them.

The song tracks, movies and series mentioned in the book as integral parts of the story are listed as appendix 1 for you to enjoy, ideally simultaneously as reading the relevant sections of the book.

The term tracks is derived by twentieth-century nostalgic vinyl discs that are not played anymore, save for music fanatics and avid collectors.

They refer to a music album's disk's specific segments, its needle moving the surface of the vinyl from outer to inner parts, finally dying off at the very center of the disc. This, together with wired land phones dialing zero to get a line, sounds like Chinese to readers less than thirty years old.

This book was written in an iPhone, using the low-technology app Notes, albeit with useful word suggestions and copy-paste functionality, as well as an even lower-tech tourist I Love NY notebook and hotel paper pads of St. George Lycabettus, Evereden, Excelsior, Palatino, Edison, and Amari Hotels. My work in progress was copied several times and pasted to a Word document.

Moreover, it was written on the road driving, in airplanes, in the toilet, of course, while eating, after sex catching my breath, and sometimes shower for a second round.

When writing a book, an author loves it. However, he is isolated for a long time from family, friends, news, sport events, movies, frequent sex, working out, and other hobbies.

Summing up the above facts, a book is worth far more than twenty dollars, which is equivalent to one-fourth of an orthopedics doctor's fee to fix my left wrist that was fractured from typing.

However, writing makes financial sense. A writer does not have a working-hours limit like a doctor or a lawyer and can be successful worldwide if he writes well, making money for many years from royalties of his books in various markets.

Expenses for this book include traveling, wasted money to scammers, headache pills, etc. I would rather honestly donate this money to my local church or to my one and only beloved son, Antonis. Beloved made a difference, right? Use adjectives to make your sentences beautiful.

Inspiration to write Sweet Buttcoins came aboard a Turkish Airlines airplane from Istanbul to New York, for my first series of physical inspection and due diligence of cryptos platforms, which happened probably too late.

The structure of the book imitates the famous Greek writer and poet Homer, using the technique of in medias res, like in a dream that always begins somewhere out of the blue in the middle of nowhere.

The size of the book and its fonts were carefully selected from a sample of twenty books of foreign authors, both mine and borrowed from my mother's library (see appendix 2).

After reading the book—you will read it twice, trust me—please email me at [e-mail] to indicate the two most relevant to my story tracks and trailers.

I chose as first book of the sample, the newest one from humanity's savor, Greek-originated Dr. Albert Bourla, president & CEO of Pfizer.

The reason for my choice is an abstract from Moonshot's back cover, quoting late US President J. F. Kennedy, which will be mentioned in the introduction of my sequel, to be circulated in 2024.

Regarding our world's superpowers, when it comes to cryptos, USA has a great advantage because the Chinese shot their own foot banning Bitcoin mining due to its high energy consumption, forcing all human resources knowledgeable of Bitcoin and blockchain to flee to the West.

Not a very wise movement from the Chinese government with the only excuse that they preserve energy. I hardly believe that these savings exceed the Chinese GDP impact of the brain drain from the Great Wall to the West.

When I started writing this book, I felt seriously obese like Godfather Marlon Brando, due to my flight delay and Turkish delight food in Istanbul's stunning airport.

But a man feels almost like a godfather only if he can touch his partner, which is one of the dozen ways to get the surprisingly low in the female population admitted multiple orgasms.

My overwhelming impact on the female sex most of the times only with words and pictures constitutes a landslide victory of erotic Greece.

George Bernard Shaw, the famous British writer, sent a letter to Winston Churchill inviting him to his latest theater play. He wasn't fond of Churchill as a politician, so he used British humor to tease him: I am sending you two complimentary tickets, one for you and one for your only political fan.

Churchill, who was famous for his sense of humor, replied, Thank you for the tickets. I will attend your play on the next day of its premiere if it is still on.

Please don't listen to the great man. Buy the book early on its first day of circulation, for it will be quickly exhausted.

Acknowledgments

I need to thank certain persons and organizations in advance so that I don't forget them in the end, when you will all be bored to death and won't read their names:

My awesome publisher, Fulton Books, who made my publishing debut a wonderful experience.

My mother, Aliki; brother, George; best man, Konstantinos (also unofficial editor); and my friend Stamatis, my precious funders.

Traci, the lawyer-detective, who saved me with her super diligence and advice from further financial embarrassment.

Eonia Spa in Athens, who saved me with their excellent therapies, massage, and diet from further physical embarrassment.

YouTube Music and especially awesome David Garrett for keeping me company while writing, relaxing, even sleeping.

All fabulous women mentioned in the book.

Finally, my beloved son, Antonis, who endured my five months' absence from May to September 2022.

Preamble

On May 9, 2022, inside a Turkish Airlines airplane ready to depart to New York, I finally approached my seat after two unexpected changes. I gladly conceded to the mother of a cute 4-month-old baby, but not so easily to a man who played the no-speaking-English trick to avoid his middle row seat for an aisle.

I looked at a man seating next to me, and his face sounded familiar.

Hello, sir, how do you do? I am Dimitris from Athens. My best friend in London where I studied for my MBA is Indian.

I am Paki.

The rivalry of India with Pakistan is well known to me, but I would never imagine that these were the first and last words between us.

The Sleeping Paki didn't open his eyes, contrary to the expression I didn't close my eyes all night, throughout the ten hours' duration of the flight.

Wearing both a COVID mask and a blindfold for the eyes that he took out from a small pink bag, courtesy of Turkish Airlines.

Quite a kinky scene.

The guy must be a basketball player drafted by the New York Knicks: 195 centimeters with great displacement skills, flicking his elbow on my side whenever he saw a dream. When he saw nightmares, many of them, he made a sudden movement of the head forward and bumped onto the inflight entertainment system.

To avoid this, after being served dinner, he leaned forward, starting the movie The Matrix Resurrections, with his nose and giving Keanu Reeves a hot French kiss.

He slept throughout the whole trip, at least not snoring. At breakfast, he slept holding the yogurt.

I took the opportunity and stole his bottle of water and pack of nuts.

I went to New York with $3,000 and 0.1 Bitcoin aspiring to redeem 2 Bitcoins and invest in USDT (Tether crypto pegged to USD) mining. None of the two was accomplished, since redemption was delayed for months and the four arranged meetings for USDT proved scams, as the account managers never appeared.

Chapter 1

One Click Away from Wendy, Mr. Ambassador

When the social media frenzy began in the 2000s and up to December 2021, I was practically absent from the party. I had accounts both on Facebook and Instagram but never on Twitter, whose usefulness I never understood. Nevertheless, I have been reading various comments from friends, but I never answered except before the notorious referendum of former Greek Prime Minister Alexis Tsipras in 2015, advocating in favor of the Memorandum of Understanding of our European partners and, sadly, creditors.

The referendum was an unnecessary and stupid vote of confidence to Tsipras, who was a young and unspoiled but inexperienced politician, with an unenforceable leftish ideology. Of course, I and 35 percent of the wise part of the Greek population were right, because with the prevalence of No to the memorandum of our creditors, and after turning no to yes, Tsipras was cornered in a seventeen-hour negotiation— of which he says he is proud!—and conceded €80 billion of new strict fiscal measures, instead of €1 billion proposed in the memorandum.

In any case, I was 10 percent active on Facebook and 1 percent active in Instagram for fifteen years, having posted two photos from my Alps ski and Patmos island summer vacations. In December 2021, after deleting completely useless app TikTok—useless if you are not a fourteen-year-old girl to dance in front of the iPhone—I was very close to deactivating my Instagram account. I was seeing photos of classmates who were having fun in their vacations, whom I envied at the time, and some stupid jokes able to kill a penguin from coldness. I was so close to forfeiting the opportunity to write this book.

And then a bulb lit on my forehead like in the cartoons. My idea was to create an international network of beautiful women and models so that by following them, I could see their pretty faces and great bodies. I refer to these social media gorgeous women as Wendies. I started following over one thousand women, choosing them from different regions, mainly from USA and Asia. To lure them into following me, I uploaded ten photographs among them for the first time, one with my son before a soccer game at my high school, Athens College.

This picture had unbelievable success and functioned as patient zero in a social media virus outbreak. Not with women or professional models who want a man to offer them their own children. But with fashion companies selling online products for both sexes, some only with respect to women's fashion. These companies, around twenty in the beginning, offered me one to five free products charging me only with transportation cost of $20 to $25, in return for an oral promise to become their brand ambassador on Instagram.

As I soon discovered, online fashion companies spy on one another regarding potential brand ambassadors, and soon more companies contacted me. The final tally of online companies, mainly from USA and the UK, all with female sweet marketing managers who loved me, was one hundred. I had to prepare an Excel file and sort them by their own followers and commission percentage offered to their brand ambassadors, to limit them to a manageable number, fifty.

To these fifty companies, I had to pledge only by texting them to wear their hats, T-shirts, watches, and trousers and tag their brand. I never understood how on earth I would wear and advertise women's necklaces, earrings, and dresses. Probably I had to pose alongside a female friend model. This deal was like stealing from a church. I got gifts for a vague promise, which in the beginning I believed for the sake of 10–15 percent referral fee, but later, advised by close friends, I abandoned the idea. There finished my fashion ambassador career. However, I was left with two boxes of products of various quality levels—two pairs of sunglasses were broken within a week—either to wear myself or to offer as gifts to women I wanted to seduce.

And then my first Escalation of Commitment¹ (EOC) occurred. It costed less than the second EOC that had to do with cryptos, but it sucked up my time so much that I started sleeping only for four hours.

This positive experience made me want to geometrically increase my 400 followers. I frantically added women, this time from all over the world except Australia and Alaska (more for Alaska later in the book).

But not only that. I was now becoming a famous Instagrammer, as fashion companies introduced me to their own network of followers. But the best came from an unexpected country, India. A mysterious woman with an obscure profile offered to increase in three days my followers to 5,000 with only $40. I strongly doubted it, but for this small amount, I agreed. Next day I had to put my phone to mute from the flood of beeps coming from new followers mainly in the evening, hence from USA and not India as I have feared. Same beeping flood during the next two days, at the end of which the Indian followers' accelerator invited me to check my overall followers, who to my joy landed at 5,024.

She opened my social media appetite, boosting my ego and my followers. For another $50 in the next three days, she increased my followers to 10,000. I should have stopped there following ancient Greek wisdom, Πάν Μέτρον Άριστον, meaning Everything should be act upon without exaggerations.

Nevertheless, eager to set a friends and family Instagram record, I asked her to quote a price for a boost to 20,000 followers. And she offered $200. I had to explain to her the law of diminishing returns in economics.²

Calculating cost per follower derived from the first two boosts, I applied additionally the diminishing returns law plus a volume discount to counteroffer $120. We agreed at $150, and four days later I reached an astonishing number: 20,035 followers.

Reactions from friends and family were amazing. My ex-wife, Erasmia, could not believe it, and her sixth sense proved right, although I never admitted it: You paid to get these followers.

My son was really thrilled speaking to me on the phone: Dad, do you know that as we speak your Instagram followers increase by the second?

Friends who are active in Instagram, a mere 30 percent due to their age and lack of free time, called me to congratulate me and learn my secret. Hiding the accelerator and the $290 she cost me, I mentioned the spiraling effect of an international social media network (which actually is true).

Sadly, I have been unable to access my Instagram account since early May: one of the 20,000 followers proved to be a hacker—Einmal ist nicht Keinmal, contrary to what the Germans say.³

My inaccessible Instagram profile was buried. However, on Monday May 9, 6:30 a.m., four hours before my flight to NYC and sipping three gin-tonics, the spark lit again: a brand-new Instagram profile featuring my top ten posts.

My followers' statistics so far look promising, but this time, quality and not quantity mattered.

I never saw the accelerator again, since I refused to go up to 50,000 at whichever price getting hold of myself, but I would cherish her for this temporary hedonism. It proved temporary, because one of my latest followers was a Nigerian.

Nigerians, who play such an important role in this book, are notorious scammers. I refer to them as Welcome to Nigeria and have a nice day.

Like the joke where two men, a white and a black, are peeing standing next to each other in men's open toilets. The white look at the black's penis and exclaims, Wow, man, we have the same tattoo! Is your girlfriend named Wendy as well?

No, bro, this is visible when my penis is soft. When I have a hard-on, it reads, ‘Welcome to Nigeria and have a nice day.'

Nigerians steal profile pictures of beautiful American girls and try aggressively to lure innocent, horny men for money or sometimes the tougher of them by blackmailing them that they will post their naked, indecent photos.

But they make some fatal and often childish mistakes:

Hello, honey, I am Lisa from Austin, Texas.

Hello, honey, what is the time please there? [Athens's time, 11:00 p.m.]

It is 4:00 a.m., baby.

These Austin girls were decapitated (banned and reported) immediately.

Most of the times Nigerians with fake profiles were so funny that decapitation was delayed to the point they started asking for money:

Some teleported from Texas to Athens in four hours.

Others were able to travel with $300 from New York to Athens to see me, at a third of the normal cost.

Some agreed to come but never deliver their promise of a selfie in Athens, had accidents coming to their customer, and experienced a miraculous menstrual period just before their arrival.

Most needed to fill their cars with gas to drive from Florida to Athens, suffered from flat tires and severe agoraphobia, needed to prepay the Uber driver—please note that Uber has very limited operations in Greece since the 2010's financial crisis.

All had aunts or grandmas with financial and health problems in Athens but were exposed from the Nigerian name on their PayPal account, had no clue about geography or fall to the dumbest mistake: phone numbers with the Nigerian dialing code.

All, of course, request Bitcoin for Uber or gas even from Athens central square (Syntagma) or next-door Grande Bretagne Hotel to meet me at Athenee restaurant for brunch (hundred meters' distance).

Most of them have geography issues like that they were living in South Athens. Where, baby? Santorini. Or that they lived near Skylark, a fabulous Manhattan bar, hence close to my Athens home.

When asked to prove their location with a selfie, they never did it: Trust me, honey, my camera is broken, bad Internet connection. Some tried, but the irrelevant background didn't help them to avoid decapitation.

One of them showed me her police identity card to prove she was Greek, despite the Nigerian phone trying preemptively to avoid decapitation; problem was that the ID card had my details.

Here are eleven handy rules I discovered, sometimes painfully, which are helpful to discover and deter Nigerian online scammers:

Don't use first-mover (dis)advantage. Revealing my location always caused an immediate reply that the American girls or Nigerian guys were living with a relative or having vacations in the