Hello, this blew up listeners.

If you're enjoying our show, you might also like some of the Ringer's other narrative

podcasts, like, just like us, a deep dive into the era of tabloids, think TMZ and paparazzi

benefit in brand gelina, or gamblers, a show about people who make money off the weirdest

stuff.

Like, did you know you can gamble on chess?

We'd like making shows for you here at the Ringer, and we'd like you, thanks for listening.

I'm not exactly sure when so many people who are famous for being famous took over my

phone.

But ever since they have, I've come up with an obsessive ritual.

I get comfy on my couch and pull out my phone for a little social media, as a treat.

And like clockwork, I land on an influencer's profile.

Way up at the top of their page, there are all these snapshots of them flexing, both literally

and figuratively.

They're exploring the streets of Paris, bouncing on the beach in Mexico, or hanging out in

a hotel that you can just tell costs like $1,000 a night.

It goes without saying that they look good, cute outfit, elaborate nails, toned and

made up, living their best life no doubt.

But to be perfectly honest with you, I don't care about these posts.

I'm always scrolling down, sometimes a little bit, sometimes a long way, to what I think

of as they're in between time.

And they weren't quite a civilian like me, but they weren't really a celebrity either.

...