Oh look, it's a $150 million dollar stream of Ferrari 250 GTOs. Must be Amelia Island.

Public records are a funny thing. With just a little time and research you can find out nearly anything you could ever possibly want to know. Sometimes those records will incite anger when published for public viewing.

One of motorsport's more dramatic pictures, this is British driver David Piper's Ferrari 250 GTO in Angola, 1962. It was part of a trip filled with victories, but defined by controversy.

There's been a lot of buzz lately around the crash of a rare Ferrari 250 GTO owned by American investor Christopher Cox at the Le Mans historic rally earlier this month. I haven't run anything on it yet because this all seems to be based on one English report and no photos.

This apple-green 1962 Ferrari 250 GTO is now the most expensive car in the world. The 250 GTO is revered by Ferrari collectors as the bees knees, and a private sale last month broke all previous price records, proving how much people are willing to slobber over a piece of artistically crafted machinery.

A 1963 Ferrari 250 GTO sold this past week for the unbelievable sum of $31,856,726 (£20.2 million), making it the most expensive car ever sold in Britain and the second most expensive car ever known to have been sold anywhere in the world.

Is replica-building an authentic form of automotive self-expression or merely a case of trying too hard? There’s only one way to find out: take a Ferrari 250 GTO and turn it into a Datsun 240Z.

What happens when Enzo Ferrari won't give you a GTO? You upgrade a Ferrari 250 GT SWB, turn it into a Kammbacked masterpiece and call it Drogo, a.k.a., the "breadvan," a.k.a., a Ferrari both sexy and totally bizzarre-ini. [formfreu.de]

Some say that it is cursed, that it caused a business to fail, and proved too controversial even for eBay. But now, in an exclusive engagement on Nice Price or Crack Pipe, comes. . . the Delirious 250 GT-Faux.

You wouldn’t want a $10,000,000 racing legend sitting around all mucked up in gnats, would you? All you need is a sponge and a sturdy wrist—and please mind the open sky.