I never imagined I would write this article.
Honestly, if you had asked me a year ago whether I’d ever consider selling Biyernes.com—my little corner of the internet, my Friday sanctuary, my digital outlet for everything cool and interesting—I would have said no without a second thought.
This site has seen me through good times and painful times, through creative dry spells and electric bursts of inspiration.
But sometimes life throws you something unexpected, something strangely aligned with your childhood passions, and you find yourself saying yes to an opportunity you didn’t even know you were waiting for.
Dealing with theSamba.com
Over the past few months, I’ve been quietly negotiating with the owners of TheSamba.com, the legendary online hub for Volkswagen enthusiasts worldwide.
Anyone who has ever loved a Beetle, a Kombi, or a restored Type 3 knows exactly how massive The Samba is.
It is the digital home of classic Volkswagen culture—forums, guides, photos, stories, and a global community that has kept these old air-cooled machines alive long after many thought they’d fade into obscurity.
What many people don’t know about me is that I have been a Volkswagen Beetle fan for most of my life.
Long before guitars, long before writing, long before Biyernes even existed, I spent hours looking at Beetle restoration photos, browsing wiring diagrams, admiring Baja conversions, and reading story after story of people pouring their hearts and weekends into these stubborn, lovable machines.
TheSamba.com was one of the first websites that shaped my early internet habits. It was also the site that taught me that cars could be more than transportation—they could be identity, community, and even art.
So, you can imagine how surreal it felt when a casual email exchange late last year evolved into something more serious.
At first, it was nothing more than a friendly conversation with one of The Samba’s admin team.
We talked about Beetles in the Philippines, about rising restoration costs, about the dwindling supply of good project cars.
Then talk turned to online communities, content direction, and the evolving internet landscape. Before I knew it, we were discussing Biyernes.com—its audience, its potential, its occasional chaos, and its oddball charm.
It Wasn’t All Smooth Sailing But We Got There
What followed was months of back-and-forth messages, discussions across time zones, small misunderstandings, moments of excitement, and several “Let’s think about this again next week” delays.
Negotiations are never straightforward, especially for something as personal as a website. Biyernes wasn’t just a domain name for me.
It was a creative partner.
It was the one place where I could review cars on one Friday and talk about home improvement or an air fryer the next without anyone questioning it.
It was my creative playground.
But The Samba had a vision: they wanted to expand into a more global, lifestyle-oriented direction.
They saw Biyernes as an unusual—but somehow fitting—branch of their brand. They believed our chaotic Friday energy could complement their classic-car seriousness.
And the more they explained what they wanted to do with it, the more I felt that they would take the site somewhere fascinating.
Sold at 1 Million Pounds
We eventually reached a price after long conversations: 1 Million Pounds.
It took a moment to sink in. I even had to pause and convert it mentally to my local currency, because I honestly wasn’t familiar with Lebanese exchange rates. But the number itself—one million—had a certain charm to it. You don’t forget the feeling of selling something you built for “one million,” no matter the currency.
Was it about the money?
Not really.
If anything, the novelty alone made the deal irresistible.
I mean, how often do you get to say you sold your website to a historic Volkswagen community for one million Lebanese Pounds?
It sounded like the kind of story you’d tell in a bar decades later, and people would think you made it up.
But more than that, I trusted them. I trusted the passion behind their emails, the sincerity of their interest, and their plan to take Biyernes in a new direction.
And that—more than anything—is what convinced me.
So, what happens now?
Well, Biyernes.com will be shifting dramatically.
If you’ve followed my work since I started this site, you know that every Friday has always been special.
It’s the spirit of the site.
Friday is fun.
Friday is discovery.
Friday is for exploring the cool stuff that makes life a little brighter.
Now, under its new owners, that Friday philosophy will continue—but with a twist.
From Here on Out
From here on out, Biyernes.com will focus entirely on showcasing badly designed custom vehicles.
Yes.
Every Friday, without fail, you can expect to see some of the most questionably modified motorcycles, cars, trucks, tricycles, and other rolling works of confusion that the world has to offer.
Think chopped rooflines that don’t match the doors anymore.
Think DIY spoilers made from plywood.
Think exhaust pipes that look like they were welded by someone blindfolded on a moving boat.
Think paint jobs that make you wonder if the owner lost a bet.
This is The Samba’s idea: a weekly tribute to the world’s most bewildering automotive creations.
And weirdly enough…it fits. Because bad design is its own form of entertainment. It’s unintentional artistry. It’s unapologetic creativity. It’s the human spirit refusing to follow instructions.
Will you still see tech gadgets and the random things I stumble upon?
Maybe not on the main site anymore.
This is a new era, after all.
But my voice isn’t disappearing.
I’ll still be around, still writing, still exploring cool things—you just might find me in a different corner of the internet soon.
Thank You!
For now, I want to say thank you to everyone who has supported Biyernes.com.
Thank you for reading, laughing, commenting, and sharing these weekly explorations. Thank you for making this quirky project of mine feel alive.
And to The Samba—thank you for believing in the spirit of this site. Thank you for giving it a new home in the global Volkswagen community. Thank you for paying me 1 million Lebanese Pounds, which, depending on when you read this, may or may not be enough to buy a used Beetle fender.
Lastly, before anyone panics or starts emailing me about why I sold Biyernes.com: Check your calendars.Tata for now!
