[GUEST ACCESS MODE: Data is scrambled or limited to provide examples. Make requests using your API key to unlock full data. Check https://lunarcrush.ai/auth for authentication information.]  John Ʌ Konrad V [@johnkonrad](/creator/twitter/johnkonrad) on x 73.7K followers Created: 2025-07-18 15:23:42 UTC True Adventures of an American Ship Captain, Episode 321: the CIA and Yakuza have nothing on the GGFV I woke up in a well appointed company apartment just outside a shipyard overseas circa 2009. Bleary-eyed, I noticed a black Mercedes idling below with a man smoking a cigarette beside it. He nodded me over. As I approached, the back window slid down and a man with a full sleeve of Yakuza tattoos handed me a card. In broken English, he said: “Call Mamasan.” The card had the Playboy bunny logo on one side and a phone number on the other. The window rolled back up. The driver didn’t move—just kept smoking, watching me walk away like it was the most boring job in the world. Two things immediately ran through my head: 1.Clubs that cater to foreigners in this part of the world often feature jaw-droppingly talented Filipina singers. But behind those angelic voices is the GGFV, THE most efficient human intel network outside Langley. Members of the Global Guild of Filipina Vocalists could run circles around the CIA. There was no way I was calling from my personal phone and being entered in their database 2.I had no idea where this club was—but taxi drivers are the third-best intelligence network in any port city behind these singers and the mafia So I flagged a cab, flashed the logo on the card, and the driver nodded. Off we went straight to a back-alley club on the wrong side of town The place looked closed. But as I approached, I heard the deadbolt unlatch The woman who greeted me was polished, polite, and in her 40s—clearly the manager. She sized me up, guessed my favorite drink, and started mixing Then she said: “One of your crew has a large unpaid bill from last night” I thanked her and headed to the crew hotel. The guy in question was young, proud of his fishing and hunting trips with his kids, and generally a responsible seaman I knocked. He opened the door, looking like he’d lost a boxing match with a bottle of cheap whiskey “Morning, Captain. Is the ship sailing today?” We were in drydock. The ship wasn’t going anywhere. I explained the situation. His face sank. He apologized profusely and swore it was the first time he’d ever “pursued takeout” from such an establishment. I told him I’m not his chaplain—but he needed to pay his bill. “I tried,” he said. “None of my cards or ATMs worked. I don’t know why.” That’s when his buddies chimed in, claiming the Yakuza must’ve stolen his wallet and maxed everything out. But that didn’t make sense. If they had their money, why send me a calling card? “Why don’t you call your bank?” I asked. Now, this was early Facebook era, no one really understood how social media worked, guys still used voicemail. He retrieved his phone: XX missed messages from his wife. One from a divorce lawyer “How the hell did she find out?” he asked We were all stumped. His buddies passed the hat, collected enough cash to settle the tab, and offered to deliver it themselves Bad idea Let’s just say no sailor with a record of infidelity has ever walked into a place like this with a wad of that much cash and walked out a virgin I volunteered to make the delivery myself & went back to Mamasan She welcomed me warmly, thanked me for the payment & calmly informed me: “That sailor is banned from every club in this city. The man who gave you the card manages all of them. He steps inside another bar? We’ll know.” I told her the sailor felt ashamed, his wife had already filed for divorce, and he wasn’t planning to step foot in her city again Her demeanor shifted instantly, she was concerned “Divorce?” she said. “That’s bad. That’s very bad. We rely on discretion. This could ruin our reputation.” She summoned the staff Moments later, a dozen women in pajamas filed in from the upstairs dorm. The girl in question swore she’d been discreet They huddled up and started making calls to the Philippines After XX minutes of animate Skype calls in Tagalog, GGFV found the answer. 1/2  XXXXXX engagements  **Related Topics** [tiktok](/topic/tiktok) [coldplay](/topic/coldplay) [smoking](/topic/smoking) [mercedes](/topic/mercedes) [Post Link](https://x.com/johnkonrad/status/1946229399281647647)
[GUEST ACCESS MODE: Data is scrambled or limited to provide examples. Make requests using your API key to unlock full data. Check https://lunarcrush.ai/auth for authentication information.]
John Ʌ Konrad V @johnkonrad on x 73.7K followers
Created: 2025-07-18 15:23:42 UTC
True Adventures of an American Ship Captain, Episode 321: the CIA and Yakuza have nothing on the GGFV
I woke up in a well appointed company apartment just outside a shipyard overseas circa 2009. Bleary-eyed, I noticed a black Mercedes idling below with a man smoking a cigarette beside it.
He nodded me over. As I approached, the back window slid down and a man with a full sleeve of Yakuza tattoos handed me a card. In broken English, he said:
“Call Mamasan.”
The card had the Playboy bunny logo on one side and a phone number on the other.
The window rolled back up. The driver didn’t move—just kept smoking, watching me walk away like it was the most boring job in the world.
Two things immediately ran through my head: 1.Clubs that cater to foreigners in this part of the world often feature jaw-droppingly talented Filipina singers. But behind those angelic voices is the GGFV, THE most efficient human intel network outside Langley. Members of the Global Guild of Filipina Vocalists could run circles around the CIA. There was no way I was calling from my personal phone and being entered in their database
2.I had no idea where this club was—but taxi drivers are the third-best intelligence network in any port city behind these singers and the mafia
So I flagged a cab, flashed the logo on the card, and the driver nodded. Off we went straight to a back-alley club on the wrong side of town
The place looked closed. But as I approached, I heard the deadbolt unlatch
The woman who greeted me was polished, polite, and in her 40s—clearly the manager. She sized me up, guessed my favorite drink, and started mixing
Then she said: “One of your crew has a large unpaid bill from last night”
I thanked her and headed to the crew hotel. The guy in question was young, proud of his fishing and hunting trips with his kids, and generally a responsible seaman
I knocked. He opened the door, looking like he’d lost a boxing match with a bottle of cheap whiskey
“Morning, Captain. Is the ship sailing today?”
We were in drydock. The ship wasn’t going anywhere.
I explained the situation. His face sank. He apologized profusely and swore it was the first time he’d ever “pursued takeout” from such an establishment.
I told him I’m not his chaplain—but he needed to pay his bill.
“I tried,” he said. “None of my cards or ATMs worked. I don’t know why.”
That’s when his buddies chimed in, claiming the Yakuza must’ve stolen his wallet and maxed everything out.
But that didn’t make sense. If they had their money, why send me a calling card?
“Why don’t you call your bank?” I asked.
Now, this was early Facebook era, no one really understood how social media worked, guys still used voicemail.
He retrieved his phone: XX missed messages from his wife. One from a divorce lawyer
“How the hell did she find out?” he asked
We were all stumped. His buddies passed the hat, collected enough cash to settle the tab, and offered to deliver it themselves
Bad idea
Let’s just say no sailor with a record of infidelity has ever walked into a place like this with a wad of that much cash and walked out a virgin
I volunteered to make the delivery myself & went back to Mamasan
She welcomed me warmly, thanked me for the payment & calmly informed me:
“That sailor is banned from every club in this city. The man who gave you the card manages all of them. He steps inside another bar? We’ll know.”
I told her the sailor felt ashamed, his wife had already filed for divorce, and he wasn’t planning to step foot in her city again
Her demeanor shifted instantly, she was concerned
“Divorce?” she said. “That’s bad. That’s very bad. We rely on discretion. This could ruin our reputation.”
She summoned the staff
Moments later, a dozen women in pajamas filed in from the upstairs dorm. The girl in question swore she’d been discreet
They huddled up and started making calls to the Philippines
After XX minutes of animate Skype calls in Tagalog, GGFV found the answer. 1/2
XXXXXX engagements
