If you invest your suckance
Slyly with a skank
Like a ship run aground
More rewarding than invested in a bank
It will fail to astound
A wallet violently oppressed
And you’ll feel it each time they molest
As your effluence stickily expands
Deftly in the hands
Of the directors
Who invest your liquidity per their horny little glans
So yeah, there was that time I put thousands of dollars in a savings account with that “American” multinational bank. You know the one. Their logo is a red, white and blue
flag credit card. Because nothing is more quintessentially American than, “I want it now. I’ll pay for it with credit.” Hey, let’s make our logo a credit card. That’ll show ’em what we’re really about.
And we fall for it.
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It all started when I loaned a friend a hammer. A hammer is a tool typically used for driving metal objects known as nails into various materials like wood. Or so I’ve heard.
For the purpose of this story let’s assume I actually owned a hammer.
If we wanted to (and were sufficiently sick in the head) we could think of this loan as a transaction. The hammer represents the principle, my friend is the debtor and I must be, of course, the bank.
It isn’t too hard to assume my friend is a
debtbeat deadbeat and never returned the bloody thing. Amazingly, even though I dunned him many, many times, and threatened to assess late fees of 1.5 percent on a monthly basis.
Finally that worthless so-and-so left me no recourse. After consulting my voluminous and most accurate
scribbles documentation, I looked up his address and drove across town. I was literally seeing red. My goal? To retrieve the hammer and write the dude off as my friend.
I kicked in his door, tore the place apart, and, having found my precious hammer, I got the hell out of dodge.
The only problem? I made the totally understandable mistake of going to the wrong house. The hammer I repossessed wasn’t even mine. In my defense, it was of similar design. Oops. My bad.
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When I get bigger everyone is happy. When I shrink everyone is sad. But what am I?
On so-called “Cyber Monday” yesterday internet purchases were up 27% from the year before. This is because consumers have higher confidence in me. Feels good! Yes, I need that sort of validation. I get off on you getting off on me.
I’ve been brain doodling some thoughts. Hopefully they’ll congeal enough to make a cogent post. I highly doubt it. Ideas flit around inside my head but somehow lose their luster by the time they get translated for the rest of the world.
G.R.U.N.T. represents my latest attempt. It stands for GRand Unification Theory of Economics.
In short, the theory states that things, economically speaking, are fucked up. (Please excuse the technical jargon.) And, when things reach the state of being fucked up too well, then Bad Shit ™ may be the result. Irrationality is the term I like to use for systems that produce unexpected and undesirable results. GRUNTE predicts a period of Bad Shit heading our way.
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New Yahoo CEO Marissa Mayer is pregnant. Cue the Star Wars Empire Strikes Back music.
“I am your mommy.”
For once the mainstream media gets it right with a finessed balance of coverage. I just culled these headlines, at random, from Google News. In the urn, this is the cream that rose to the top. I did not go digging or cherry pick these headlines.
- Who Has It Easier, a Pregnant CEO or a Pregnant Maid?
- Marissa Mayer hinted at what she’ll do at Yahoo — in 2010
- She’s Feeling Lucky
- Forbes writer to Mayer: You can’t have it all
- Pregnant Yahoo CEO ignites maternity debate
And last, but certainly not least:
The Pregnant CEO: Should You Hate Marissa Mayer?
It almost is enough to make one wonder, “Holy fucking shit? What the hell just happened here?”