I know you have all been lying awake at night worrying about this, watching the minutes tick by while precious sleep cruelly eludes you. But alas, you can now rest easy knowing that giant house-building companies will be getting tax cuts resulting in multi-million dollar refunds, necessary in order to save these struggling businesses from mountains of debt and impending corporate death... wait, what? They're not struggling? Many of the largest home builders are actually sitting pretty atop the piles of cash they made while helping to create the very bubble that caused this recession to begin with? But the Worker, Homeownership and Business Assistance Act of 2009 is still going to result in them getting refunds of hundreds of millions of dollars?
Well, as long as we don't give them healthcare...
Home Builders (You Heard That Right) Get a Gift
Sunday, November 15, 2009
Tuesday, July 21, 2009
Back in Business!
America, I apologize for our lack of bloggery, which lord knows is sorely needed in these tough economic times. We are not ignorant to the fact that this blog brought a brief moment of respite and levity to millions of you laid-off and about-to-be-laid-off blog-readers. None of you killed yourselves, did you? I hope not.
You know what the problem is? Someone at the New York Times must have realized we were making fun of their stupid articles about rich people becoming slightly less rich, because they stopped writing so many. We're lazy, you guys. We can't just come up with blog ideas on our OWN. So we kind of shut ourselves away for a while and watched our official crying movie (A League of Their Own) until we were ready to come back out into the public sphere again.
And here we are! How about that recession, huh? I actually noticed in some Times article the other day, the author just came right out and said "Great Recession". Like he decided "fuck it, we've been pussyfooting around long enough and if no one else is going to make the call on it, then goddammit, I AM. I am a NEW YORK TIMES REPORTER. And I'm going to call it the GREAT RECESSION." Bravo, sir.
In other news, things are not looking good for Obama's health care initiative. I can't really even talk about this, as it makes me too mad. Who doesn't want universal health care? Rich assholes who can afford good health insurance, that's who. They don't get to decide! Go buy your stupid Blue Cross Blue Shield, rich people! Leave me my socialized medicine!
You know what the problem is? Someone at the New York Times must have realized we were making fun of their stupid articles about rich people becoming slightly less rich, because they stopped writing so many. We're lazy, you guys. We can't just come up with blog ideas on our OWN. So we kind of shut ourselves away for a while and watched our official crying movie (A League of Their Own) until we were ready to come back out into the public sphere again.
And here we are! How about that recession, huh? I actually noticed in some Times article the other day, the author just came right out and said "Great Recession". Like he decided "fuck it, we've been pussyfooting around long enough and if no one else is going to make the call on it, then goddammit, I AM. I am a NEW YORK TIMES REPORTER. And I'm going to call it the GREAT RECESSION." Bravo, sir.
In other news, things are not looking good for Obama's health care initiative. I can't really even talk about this, as it makes me too mad. Who doesn't want universal health care? Rich assholes who can afford good health insurance, that's who. They don't get to decide! Go buy your stupid Blue Cross Blue Shield, rich people! Leave me my socialized medicine!
Tuesday, April 28, 2009
Being That You Brought Her, I Trust You Shall Be So Kind As To Pelham Manor
Oh my goodness. Did you know that some unemployed high-powered executive-type males have had to (GASP) STAY HOME AND CARE FOR THE CHILDREN??? The New York Times confirms it is true. At least in Pelham Manor, New York. Pelham Manor? Really? Your whole rich people suburb is one manor? How does that work? Was "Fancypants Acres" taken? Hold on while I add this to the list of things I hate and fear. Okay.
Titans of industry are losing their jobs left and right in ye olde Pelham Manor, so some of these unfortunate fellows have had to stay home with the kids while their wives work. What is this world coming to, when men who were once paid way too much to buy and sell things that are not real must stay home and raise little humans while their helpless, delicate wives go out and earn the money? The men have to cook dinner and pick kids up from school, while the women are presumably being preyed upon by wolves and mustache-twirling villains in the forest outside the village. The whole natural order of things is upset! Pelham Manor, I feel like I don't even know you any more!
Things are looking especially rough for unemployed dad Jerry Levy. He's had trouble fitting in at PTA meetings because he "tends to tackle matters with a bluntness honed in the financial industry" (translation: "is an asshole").* But Jerry has a lot of money saved up, and has taken over many of his wife's chores. Oh yeah, his wife? Doesn't have to work either. And they have a nanny. So, you know, pretty typical American family. Except for the shame--THE SHAME!--of being a stay-at-home dad.
...Mr. Levy said, one uncomfortable aspect of his new life is a certain loss of power. “At work, you are used to everyone listening to you — assistants, accounting, the middle office, sales coverage and outside vendors,” he said. “But try to get your four children to listen to you.”
OH AH HA HA HA HA HA CHILDY ANECDOTES! SOMEONE FETCH ME RAYMOND WHOM EVERYBODY LOVES FORTHWITH, FOR HE WOULD TRULY DELIGHT IN THIS JAPERY. Do you like how he had to list everyone he used to order around? What in hell is a middle office? Do I really need to translate again, when it's clear "everyone listening to you" means "everyone hating me, Jerry Levy"?
Here's the thing. Unless everyone in Pelham Manor is like Lady Levy (and hell, for all I know, they are, but I am trying to operate from a place of optimism), I highly doubt these stay-at-home dads' wives were full-time moms who suddenly went back to work when their husbands got laid off. I bet most of them were already working full-time, or close to it. Those Dutch Colonial homes with negro jockey statues in front aren't going to pay for themselves. I double-or-nothing bet these women were doing the bulk of the child-raising while working, while their financey husbands were crowing about how busy they were doing business and weren't lifting a goddamned finger around the house. Where's their tickertape parade?
More men than women have suffered layoffs in these tough economic times, and it sucks when anyone gets laid off, but that's really just a minor bummer compared to the fact that women are still paid less than men, as has been the case since, oh, the Industrial Revolution and the invention of wage labor. Is it better to get laid off and get unemployment, or continue being marginally employed at a job only because your boss can get away with paying you less than the dude in the next cubicle? The consistent undervaluing of women's labor, paid and unpaid, is the real story here.
Luckily for you, I'm too lazy to get into that story and would much rather just keep making up alternative names for Pelham Manor. Entitlementon. Blancho Villa. Simpleton Keep. George Foreman Jr. Knickerbocker Estates. Schloss Neidstein.
*Also: honing does not result in bluntness. It sort of results in the opposite, sharpness. Nice writing, New York Times.
Titans of industry are losing their jobs left and right in ye olde Pelham Manor, so some of these unfortunate fellows have had to stay home with the kids while their wives work. What is this world coming to, when men who were once paid way too much to buy and sell things that are not real must stay home and raise little humans while their helpless, delicate wives go out and earn the money? The men have to cook dinner and pick kids up from school, while the women are presumably being preyed upon by wolves and mustache-twirling villains in the forest outside the village. The whole natural order of things is upset! Pelham Manor, I feel like I don't even know you any more!
Things are looking especially rough for unemployed dad Jerry Levy. He's had trouble fitting in at PTA meetings because he "tends to tackle matters with a bluntness honed in the financial industry" (translation: "is an asshole").* But Jerry has a lot of money saved up, and has taken over many of his wife's chores. Oh yeah, his wife? Doesn't have to work either. And they have a nanny. So, you know, pretty typical American family. Except for the shame--THE SHAME!--of being a stay-at-home dad.
...Mr. Levy said, one uncomfortable aspect of his new life is a certain loss of power. “At work, you are used to everyone listening to you — assistants, accounting, the middle office, sales coverage and outside vendors,” he said. “But try to get your four children to listen to you.”
OH AH HA HA HA HA HA CHILDY ANECDOTES! SOMEONE FETCH ME RAYMOND WHOM EVERYBODY LOVES FORTHWITH, FOR HE WOULD TRULY DELIGHT IN THIS JAPERY. Do you like how he had to list everyone he used to order around? What in hell is a middle office? Do I really need to translate again, when it's clear "everyone listening to you" means "everyone hating me, Jerry Levy"?
Here's the thing. Unless everyone in Pelham Manor is like Lady Levy (and hell, for all I know, they are, but I am trying to operate from a place of optimism), I highly doubt these stay-at-home dads' wives were full-time moms who suddenly went back to work when their husbands got laid off. I bet most of them were already working full-time, or close to it. Those Dutch Colonial homes with negro jockey statues in front aren't going to pay for themselves. I double-or-nothing bet these women were doing the bulk of the child-raising while working, while their financey husbands were crowing about how busy they were doing business and weren't lifting a goddamned finger around the house. Where's their tickertape parade?
More men than women have suffered layoffs in these tough economic times, and it sucks when anyone gets laid off, but that's really just a minor bummer compared to the fact that women are still paid less than men, as has been the case since, oh, the Industrial Revolution and the invention of wage labor. Is it better to get laid off and get unemployment, or continue being marginally employed at a job only because your boss can get away with paying you less than the dude in the next cubicle? The consistent undervaluing of women's labor, paid and unpaid, is the real story here.
Luckily for you, I'm too lazy to get into that story and would much rather just keep making up alternative names for Pelham Manor. Entitlementon. Blancho Villa. Simpleton Keep. George Foreman Jr. Knickerbocker Estates. Schloss Neidstein.
*Also: honing does not result in bluntness. It sort of results in the opposite, sharpness. Nice writing, New York Times.
Tuesday, April 14, 2009
Wall Street: Where the Stars Come Out to Shine!
The stars of banking, that is. What? You don't know about those stars? Clearly someone is not reading enough New York Times! Crisis Reshaping Wall Street as Stars Begin to Scatter
This article bemoans the loss of "top talent" as bankers from Goldman Sachs, Morgan Stanley, and others flee their sinking ships for the greener pastures of startups and smaller banks, which are hilariously described as "boutique" by the NYT, making me picture them as tony little joints in Paris where the ladies wear big hats and elbow gloves and the men wear smoking jackets and puff on cigars as they look over their monacles to conduct their business transactions.
Threatened by the odious dual threats of less payoff and more fiscal responsibility, some of the very people responsible for driving the economy off a cliff are now abandoning their posts (so much for those "retention" bonuses, huh?)to take ones at these boutique firms that are still intent on chasing fast profits and growth. Because learning your lesson? Ugh! [to steal a turn of phrase from Lady Blogpants]
The cliche of rats fleeing a sinking ship is actually not an appropriate analogy - the rats weren't the ones doing the ship-sinking, after all.
My favorite quote is from Lee Fenterstock, the chief executive of Broadpoint, a smaller Manhattan financial firm snapping up these so-called banking stars like a flock of pigeons after a dropped Lucky Dog. "We have the opportunity to step into the shoes of a Bear Stearns or a Lehman," he said. Umm... didn't both those firms just fail in a fantastical and dramatic manner? I think I'd leave those shoes right where they are.
This article bemoans the loss of "top talent" as bankers from Goldman Sachs, Morgan Stanley, and others flee their sinking ships for the greener pastures of startups and smaller banks, which are hilariously described as "boutique" by the NYT, making me picture them as tony little joints in Paris where the ladies wear big hats and elbow gloves and the men wear smoking jackets and puff on cigars as they look over their monacles to conduct their business transactions.
Threatened by the odious dual threats of less payoff and more fiscal responsibility, some of the very people responsible for driving the economy off a cliff are now abandoning their posts (so much for those "retention" bonuses, huh?)to take ones at these boutique firms that are still intent on chasing fast profits and growth. Because learning your lesson? Ugh! [to steal a turn of phrase from Lady Blogpants]
The cliche of rats fleeing a sinking ship is actually not an appropriate analogy - the rats weren't the ones doing the ship-sinking, after all.
My favorite quote is from Lee Fenterstock, the chief executive of Broadpoint, a smaller Manhattan financial firm snapping up these so-called banking stars like a flock of pigeons after a dropped Lucky Dog. "We have the opportunity to step into the shoes of a Bear Stearns or a Lehman," he said. Umm... didn't both those firms just fail in a fantastical and dramatic manner? I think I'd leave those shoes right where they are.
Thursday, April 9, 2009
The Con-Airy in the Coal Mine
I knew things were bad economically, but I didn't realize just how bad until I found out one of my favorite celebrities is so hard up he had to sell one of his castles. One of his CASTLES, people. That's right, Nicolas Cage is no longer the owner of Schloss Neidstein. He had to sell this Bavarian castle, in which he presumably was fond of donning his Con Air wig and twirling around yelling NICOLAS CAAAAAAAAGE in the echoey great hall before sitting down to a delicious pretzel-based meal, because of these tough economic times.
Like the canary in the coal mine, Nicolas Cage is an early harbinger of the doom-times to come for all celebrities. Your superfluous residential properties are not safe, o denizens of dreamland! Not yours, Jodie Sweetin from Full House. Or yours, Ruben Studdard from American Idol. Or even yours, Nicolas Cage, former king of Schloss Neidstein. Your Majesty.
You probably think now I'm going to rant about how ridiculous it is that in this economic day and age, Nicolas Cage owned castles (he still owns at least one, in England). But you're wrong. I can't find fault with Nicolas Cage. He's Nicolas Cage. Yelly, sweaty, weird Nicolas Cage. He named his baby after Superman. He was in The Rock. Did you click on that link up above, for god's sake? He's NICOLAS CAAAAAAGE! Of course he has castles!
Like the canary in the coal mine, Nicolas Cage is an early harbinger of the doom-times to come for all celebrities. Your superfluous residential properties are not safe, o denizens of dreamland! Not yours, Jodie Sweetin from Full House. Or yours, Ruben Studdard from American Idol. Or even yours, Nicolas Cage, former king of Schloss Neidstein. Your Majesty.
You probably think now I'm going to rant about how ridiculous it is that in this economic day and age, Nicolas Cage owned castles (he still owns at least one, in England). But you're wrong. I can't find fault with Nicolas Cage. He's Nicolas Cage. Yelly, sweaty, weird Nicolas Cage. He named his baby after Superman. He was in The Rock. Did you click on that link up above, for god's sake? He's NICOLAS CAAAAAAGE! Of course he has castles!
Monday, April 6, 2009
Paycheck, Schmaycheck--I Used to Work in FINANCE!
Today's entry in the economic dick parade is a fellow who was laid off from a private equity firm in December. I don't know what a private equity firm is, because, as I've amply demonstrated, I don't know jackity crap about money stuff. Is it where you go to purchase pork-bellies? And perhaps to engage in the selling of same? Anyway, this guy Trent Calabretta apparently made far more money as a private equitist than any 26-year-old should make, because he has enough savings to keep his Upper East Side apartment and not have to look for a job right away. He's been whiling away the hours as a TV extra, for which he gets paid $8 an hour.
Doesn't sound so bad, right? Making money in show biz, checking out Angelina Jolie, presumably resting and regrouping for an assault on the job fairs of the greater northeast. I was okay with this story until Trent had to go and douche it up:
"I’ve gotten a few paychecks as an extra, but I haven’t even looked at them yet,” Mr. Calabretta said. “My intention is to get back into finance, and in the interim, I’m going to keep doing these fun little side jobs.”
Okay, I can't believe I'm standing up for people who play pretend for a living, but fuck this guy for taking jobs away from actual extras. Yes, if being an extra is your primary source of income you might have some large problems, and yes, maybe it's time to go back to school like your mom said. And yes, it is entirely possible you are an insufferable person. But still, I bet you appreciate and use the money you earn being an extra. Not Trent! He's too good for his paychecks! They're not made of real money--he's just doing a "fun little side job"!
Can you imagine receiving a paycheck, no matter how small, and not cashing it? What kind of private equity hubris makes you that big of an arrogant asshole? "What's this envelope? Oh, it's from Gossip Girl--it must be a paycheck from my last 12-hour extra gig. I think instead of opening this, I'll toss it onto the silver ashtray in my foyer and use it to light a cigar later. Or maybe I'll just jam it up my ass. That is how little regard I have for the legal tender contained therein."
You know what minimum wage is in New York? $7.15. I wonder how many thousands of people are trying to make ends meet with their "fun little side jobs" as fast food workers and janitors. Aren't they cute? Who's a little cutie? Who's a precious little janitor making less than a nonunion TV extra? YOU ARE!
And I know it's actually really hard to get into the actors' union, but jeez, at least pretend like you're trying, dude. No one likes a scab.
Doesn't sound so bad, right? Making money in show biz, checking out Angelina Jolie, presumably resting and regrouping for an assault on the job fairs of the greater northeast. I was okay with this story until Trent had to go and douche it up:
"I’ve gotten a few paychecks as an extra, but I haven’t even looked at them yet,” Mr. Calabretta said. “My intention is to get back into finance, and in the interim, I’m going to keep doing these fun little side jobs.”
Okay, I can't believe I'm standing up for people who play pretend for a living, but fuck this guy for taking jobs away from actual extras. Yes, if being an extra is your primary source of income you might have some large problems, and yes, maybe it's time to go back to school like your mom said. And yes, it is entirely possible you are an insufferable person. But still, I bet you appreciate and use the money you earn being an extra. Not Trent! He's too good for his paychecks! They're not made of real money--he's just doing a "fun little side job"!
Can you imagine receiving a paycheck, no matter how small, and not cashing it? What kind of private equity hubris makes you that big of an arrogant asshole? "What's this envelope? Oh, it's from Gossip Girl--it must be a paycheck from my last 12-hour extra gig. I think instead of opening this, I'll toss it onto the silver ashtray in my foyer and use it to light a cigar later. Or maybe I'll just jam it up my ass. That is how little regard I have for the legal tender contained therein."
You know what minimum wage is in New York? $7.15. I wonder how many thousands of people are trying to make ends meet with their "fun little side jobs" as fast food workers and janitors. Aren't they cute? Who's a little cutie? Who's a precious little janitor making less than a nonunion TV extra? YOU ARE!
And I know it's actually really hard to get into the actors' union, but jeez, at least pretend like you're trying, dude. No one likes a scab.
Wednesday, April 1, 2009
File under "Nerds Not Taking Themselves Seriously Enough. Again."
I recently received an important zeitgeisty tip from my neurosurgeon friend/ex-boyfriend (that's right, I used to date smart people, and don't think I don't mention my multiple neurosurgeon friends at every possible opportunity), alerting me that his wife's brother is not taking These Tough Economic Times as seriously as he should. In a classic "ha ha this is a funny joke oh wait it's becoming real hold on what are all these reporters doing here?" moment, laid-off computer programmer Nick Goddard inadvertently invented the Unemployment Olympics . After some hasty assembly of impressive cardboard box structures and the execution of this completely satisfying piece of art, a group of certified unemployed roustabouts competed in various office-themed events and otherwise poked fun and sported silly grins. At least one guy wore a suit and carried a briefcase, and I dub him King of Awesometown.
Don't these people realize the gravity of These Tough Economic Times? Look at them, using jocularity, looking on the bright side, not feeling sorry for themselves. Ridiculous. When will they realize their time would be better spent testifying to rapt journalists about how they used to have jobs and now they have not? Even better: standing all frowny on a corner with a sandwich board and a cup of pencils (not for sale, just for effect).
Readers, I am at a loss. If a 26-year-old code jockey from the East Village can't accept the mind-blowingly hopelessly irrevocably doomed nature of his situation, who can? Oh, everyone else the New York Times writes about? Oh, okay.
Don't these people realize the gravity of These Tough Economic Times? Look at them, using jocularity, looking on the bright side, not feeling sorry for themselves. Ridiculous. When will they realize their time would be better spent testifying to rapt journalists about how they used to have jobs and now they have not? Even better: standing all frowny on a corner with a sandwich board and a cup of pencils (not for sale, just for effect).
Readers, I am at a loss. If a 26-year-old code jockey from the East Village can't accept the mind-blowingly hopelessly irrevocably doomed nature of his situation, who can? Oh, everyone else the New York Times writes about? Oh, okay.
Wednesday, March 25, 2009
Optimism!
The economic news around here has been glum and getting glummer. BMW owners having to remain BMW owners instead of becoming Infiniti owners, incompetent bankers getting perhaps a slightly smaller bonus than they expected, intentionally unemployed housewives having to mop their own floors (but not mow their own lawns--we're not savages yet): is there any hope left in the world at all? In times like these, does ANYTHING make sense?
It does! It's time to take a walk on the sunny side of the street! I actually am going to note some positive stories; I don't know why this is starting off so sarcastically. Okay. Iiiii read that book sales are up in Europe, because people are reading more. They may be reading more because they're unemployed or because they can't afford TV anymore, but it doesn't really matter, they're reading! There is nothing not positive about people reading more. Unless those fruity Europeans are just doing it to make us look bad. Or maybe they just found out about the Twilight series. I hear the continentals are nutters for sparkly Mormon vampires.
Another good thing is that apparently volunteerism is way up. Instead of just going hoboing, or swanning about complaining to the New York Times, a lot of unemployed folks are showing up at food banks and Habitat for Humanity and whatnot to work. Of course, most of the non-profits don't have the infrastructure to actually make use of the surge of volunteers, but it's the thought that counts, right?
And the third good thing is that for the first time in my lifetime, poor people are really mad at rich people. Okay, I guess that's not new--what's new is now there's a little bit of media coverage on it. It gives me hope that some of the dummies who vote Republican are waking up and realizing their party has been shitting on them for years. Maybe making a living wage IS more important than worrying about whether Joe Gay Dude down the street is going to marry his boyfriend. Oh, now I'm just talking crazy.
It does! It's time to take a walk on the sunny side of the street! I actually am going to note some positive stories; I don't know why this is starting off so sarcastically. Okay. Iiiii read that book sales are up in Europe, because people are reading more. They may be reading more because they're unemployed or because they can't afford TV anymore, but it doesn't really matter, they're reading! There is nothing not positive about people reading more. Unless those fruity Europeans are just doing it to make us look bad. Or maybe they just found out about the Twilight series. I hear the continentals are nutters for sparkly Mormon vampires.
Another good thing is that apparently volunteerism is way up. Instead of just going hoboing, or swanning about complaining to the New York Times, a lot of unemployed folks are showing up at food banks and Habitat for Humanity and whatnot to work. Of course, most of the non-profits don't have the infrastructure to actually make use of the surge of volunteers, but it's the thought that counts, right?
And the third good thing is that for the first time in my lifetime, poor people are really mad at rich people. Okay, I guess that's not new--what's new is now there's a little bit of media coverage on it. It gives me hope that some of the dummies who vote Republican are waking up and realizing their party has been shitting on them for years. Maybe making a living wage IS more important than worrying about whether Joe Gay Dude down the street is going to marry his boyfriend. Oh, now I'm just talking crazy.
Sunday, March 22, 2009
But does she mop her own floors?
Oh, New York Times, have you ever met a rich person you didn't feel sorry for?
Today's sob story is Ms. Ryan Moore. Her claim to recessionista fame is that, due to these tough economic times, she was forced to keep her old car instead of buying a new Infiniti EX35. Goodness gracious! How ever will she be able to show her face in her old car, a 2004 BMW that has 25,000 whole miles on it? Does the odometer even GO that high?
Silly me. I wish I'd known about this money-saving tip a few years back when I was in dire financial straits and on the very successful "I can't afford food" diet. I sure could have saved myself the trouble of trying, much less successfully, to sell plasma, an experience that ended with a lot of throwing up, the blood bank people telling me not to come back, and me running over the bush in front of my parking space when I tried to drive myself home (note to self: if too woozy to stand up, probably best not to drive).
Today's sob story is Ms. Ryan Moore. Her claim to recessionista fame is that, due to these tough economic times, she was forced to keep her old car instead of buying a new Infiniti EX35. Goodness gracious! How ever will she be able to show her face in her old car, a 2004 BMW that has 25,000 whole miles on it? Does the odometer even GO that high?
Silly me. I wish I'd known about this money-saving tip a few years back when I was in dire financial straits and on the very successful "I can't afford food" diet. I sure could have saved myself the trouble of trying, much less successfully, to sell plasma, an experience that ended with a lot of throwing up, the blood bank people telling me not to come back, and me running over the bush in front of my parking space when I tried to drive myself home (note to self: if too woozy to stand up, probably best not to drive).
Thursday, March 19, 2009
Let them eat cake
Today’s most infuriating headline: Home Economics: Families Doing Own Chores
What? You can do your own chores?? Fuuuuuck.
Thanks, Yahoo Finance, for this incredibly helpful article detailing how a lady in Fayetteville, Arkansas is saving 10k a year by doing her own cleaning and cooking at home. I’m going to apply this immediately to my own life to save… hey, wait, I couldn’t afford any of that to begin with! I’ve been doing my own menial labor for years. Where’s my retention bonus?
I wish that lady would call me so I could enumerate the reasons why she does not, in fact, deserve a ticker tape parade on Main Street for mopping her own floors. Guess what, lady? Nobody feels sorry for you because you can’t afford as many luxuries as you used to. Here’s an ingenious idea: why don’t you GET A JOB… or perhaps a clue. My mom worked full-time AND took care of the house the entire time I was growing up, and not only did it not kill her, but no one ever even offered her a Nobel prize. I hear she wasn't even nominated. We call that “life.” On the plus side, at least that afforded her some protection from Bernie Madoff... Not a celebrity OR a major national bank OR a Nobel laureate? You can keep your unimportant life savings, peon.
The article missed a great opportunity to talk about a real problem, which is that when Mrs. I Can’t Be Bothered With My Own Laundry and all her equally overindulged friends fire their maids and lawn boys, that puts people out of work and creates ACTUAL hardship. I am constantly amazed that the media think the real story about the recession is how it's affecting Suzy (non-home-making) Home-maker and her overdeveloped sense of entitlement, when there are people who truly are having a hard time of it and probably fishing for half-eaten sandwiches in dumpsters and selling their plasma at the local blood center for $20 a shot.
In the article, Fancy Lady notes, as an aside, that her maid calls her all the time and hasn’t been able to find other work. “I feel really bad about that,” she says, as she stands in her spacious kitchen full of stainless steel and state-of-the-art appliances. Sure you do, lady.
What? You can do your own chores?? Fuuuuuck.
Thanks, Yahoo Finance, for this incredibly helpful article detailing how a lady in Fayetteville, Arkansas is saving 10k a year by doing her own cleaning and cooking at home. I’m going to apply this immediately to my own life to save… hey, wait, I couldn’t afford any of that to begin with! I’ve been doing my own menial labor for years. Where’s my retention bonus?
I wish that lady would call me so I could enumerate the reasons why she does not, in fact, deserve a ticker tape parade on Main Street for mopping her own floors. Guess what, lady? Nobody feels sorry for you because you can’t afford as many luxuries as you used to. Here’s an ingenious idea: why don’t you GET A JOB… or perhaps a clue. My mom worked full-time AND took care of the house the entire time I was growing up, and not only did it not kill her, but no one ever even offered her a Nobel prize. I hear she wasn't even nominated. We call that “life.” On the plus side, at least that afforded her some protection from Bernie Madoff... Not a celebrity OR a major national bank OR a Nobel laureate? You can keep your unimportant life savings, peon.
The article missed a great opportunity to talk about a real problem, which is that when Mrs. I Can’t Be Bothered With My Own Laundry and all her equally overindulged friends fire their maids and lawn boys, that puts people out of work and creates ACTUAL hardship. I am constantly amazed that the media think the real story about the recession is how it's affecting Suzy (non-home-making) Home-maker and her overdeveloped sense of entitlement, when there are people who truly are having a hard time of it and probably fishing for half-eaten sandwiches in dumpsters and selling their plasma at the local blood center for $20 a shot.
In the article, Fancy Lady notes, as an aside, that her maid calls her all the time and hasn’t been able to find other work. “I feel really bad about that,” she says, as she stands in her spacious kitchen full of stainless steel and state-of-the-art appliances. Sure you do, lady.
Wednesday, March 18, 2009
This Is Why You're Poor: Peek-A-Baby
While visiting my family in Northern California this weekend I spotted one of those billboard / sandwich board guys holding a sign and dancing on a corner. What kind of business was he advertising? Was it a car dealership? Nope! A sandwich place? Nope (that was on the opposite corner). A furniture sale? Nope. It was for a fucking ultrasound place called PEEK-A-BABY:
Yuck. I mean I'm all for local businesses trying to make money but this is gross. Do you really need to keep looking at the baby inside the woman's stomach? I do realize how oddly phrased that last sentence was but I've decided to keep it. "Hey I can't remember if my fetus has a penis or not, better go to Peek-A-Baby for a reminder! Yup it's me again! I'd like to pay money to look at my gross half-formed baby! Is there any way we could take it out and play with it too? Oh. OK, hook her up and let's look at this fucking thing. Hey how come every time I come here it has extra limbs? Wait this is safe right?"
I guess this could also have been titled "This Is Why Your Children Are Autistic" (although my sister has a theory that the cause of that is microwave popcorn).
Yuck. I mean I'm all for local businesses trying to make money but this is gross. Do you really need to keep looking at the baby inside the woman's stomach? I do realize how oddly phrased that last sentence was but I've decided to keep it. "Hey I can't remember if my fetus has a penis or not, better go to Peek-A-Baby for a reminder! Yup it's me again! I'd like to pay money to look at my gross half-formed baby! Is there any way we could take it out and play with it too? Oh. OK, hook her up and let's look at this fucking thing. Hey how come every time I come here it has extra limbs? Wait this is safe right?"
I guess this could also have been titled "This Is Why Your Children Are Autistic" (although my sister has a theory that the cause of that is microwave popcorn).
Monday, March 16, 2009
"Humbled" Banker is a Dick
Today's headline story on CNN was called "Humbled Banker Parts With Yuppie Past". I thought I was about to read a heartwarming story about a rich banker who lost his job and after being forced to leave his lifestyle behind got some kind of "I learned the true meaning of Christmas!" realization and changed who he was as a person and decided material things and money aren't important. Nope. The story is about some dipshit guy Ernie Casillas, who was making a ton of money a year then lost his job and then in a "desperate move" put an ad on CRAIGSLIST asking for someone to give him a job. And now he's getting job offers. Great story CNN. Just listen to this dick:
"It took a lot for me to put that ad on Craigslist, because I had to change what I was before," he said, breaking down in tears. "I wasn't this rich little yuppie anymore, driving expensive cars, having expensive suits. I'm in this just like everybody else looking for work. It humbles you. This is real."
Wait you're crying? CRYING? Sorry I can't think of better words for this but: You are a fucking pussy. CNN goes on to point out this heartbreaking fact about him:
"he has been out of work for the past four months and now lives with his mother in suburban Los Angeles."
Awwww. Mommy's little banker lost his job and had to run home to curl up in her lap and cry. FUCK. YOU. Guess what? I'm probably going to be laid off soon. You know what I'm going to do when that happens? Go out and get drunk, then the next day I'm going to wake up, file for unemployment, and start working whatever temp jobs I can find so I can pay my rent. No crying. No moving in with my mom, just acting like a goddamn MAN about it. Oh and this is the ad he swallowed his pride to post on Craigslist:
"I have over 20 years of experience in sales, telephone sales in a call center, customer service, administrative assistant, cash handling, teller, and many more skills and abilities. Great personality, very friendly, hard worker, very responsible," it said. "I will be happy to e-mail you my resume. I need a job now. Please call my cell phone."
That's it? Oh boo hoo you had to use CRAIGSLIST, the thing us normal people use all the time to look for work, apartments, and cheap appliances (I just got a giant portable dishwasher on there for $50! Best money I've spent all year!). Here's more from the article to make you pull your hair out:
Casillas said he teared up when he first began typing the message -- that his life had come unraveled so hard and so fast. But ultimately, he said, he decided, "I'm just going to put it out there. I'm not going to be embarrassed. I'm just going to tell the whole world: I'm unemployed, and I need a job today. And the response was great. My phone kept ringing and ringing and ringing with people interested in my ability to think outside the box," he said, adding that he now has three good leads on potential jobs.
So you cry when you have to put an ad on Craigslist, then you cry to the reporter when you had to recall this embarrassing moment in your life? Sorry taking that job as a yuppie banker meant losing your balls. Also, putting an ad on Craigslist isn't thinking outside the box. You are a box. And since you started getting job offers right away this really isn't much of a story. Actually, screw it, when I get laid off this is the post I'm putting on Craigslist:
"Hi! I just got laid off! I'm not one of these rich people who got paid tons of money to do a job where they dicked around all day then got laid off and now act like they're swallowing their pride by looking for a lesser job and when they get one they're going to whine about it and talk about what they USED TO DO. I'm used to working 40 hours a week for minimal pay and even though I'll probably hate whatever job you give me I'll work my ass off at it because I'm cursed with genes which make me work too hard at crappy jobs and feel bad if I leave at the end of the day without finishing what needs to be done. P.S.: no fatties."
"It took a lot for me to put that ad on Craigslist, because I had to change what I was before," he said, breaking down in tears. "I wasn't this rich little yuppie anymore, driving expensive cars, having expensive suits. I'm in this just like everybody else looking for work. It humbles you. This is real."
Wait you're crying? CRYING? Sorry I can't think of better words for this but: You are a fucking pussy. CNN goes on to point out this heartbreaking fact about him:
"he has been out of work for the past four months and now lives with his mother in suburban Los Angeles."
Awwww. Mommy's little banker lost his job and had to run home to curl up in her lap and cry. FUCK. YOU. Guess what? I'm probably going to be laid off soon. You know what I'm going to do when that happens? Go out and get drunk, then the next day I'm going to wake up, file for unemployment, and start working whatever temp jobs I can find so I can pay my rent. No crying. No moving in with my mom, just acting like a goddamn MAN about it. Oh and this is the ad he swallowed his pride to post on Craigslist:
"I have over 20 years of experience in sales, telephone sales in a call center, customer service, administrative assistant, cash handling, teller, and many more skills and abilities. Great personality, very friendly, hard worker, very responsible," it said. "I will be happy to e-mail you my resume. I need a job now. Please call my cell phone."
That's it? Oh boo hoo you had to use CRAIGSLIST, the thing us normal people use all the time to look for work, apartments, and cheap appliances (I just got a giant portable dishwasher on there for $50! Best money I've spent all year!). Here's more from the article to make you pull your hair out:
Casillas said he teared up when he first began typing the message -- that his life had come unraveled so hard and so fast. But ultimately, he said, he decided, "I'm just going to put it out there. I'm not going to be embarrassed. I'm just going to tell the whole world: I'm unemployed, and I need a job today. And the response was great. My phone kept ringing and ringing and ringing with people interested in my ability to think outside the box," he said, adding that he now has three good leads on potential jobs.
So you cry when you have to put an ad on Craigslist, then you cry to the reporter when you had to recall this embarrassing moment in your life? Sorry taking that job as a yuppie banker meant losing your balls. Also, putting an ad on Craigslist isn't thinking outside the box. You are a box. And since you started getting job offers right away this really isn't much of a story. Actually, screw it, when I get laid off this is the post I'm putting on Craigslist:
"Hi! I just got laid off! I'm not one of these rich people who got paid tons of money to do a job where they dicked around all day then got laid off and now act like they're swallowing their pride by looking for a lesser job and when they get one they're going to whine about it and talk about what they USED TO DO. I'm used to working 40 hours a week for minimal pay and even though I'll probably hate whatever job you give me I'll work my ass off at it because I'm cursed with genes which make me work too hard at crappy jobs and feel bad if I leave at the end of the day without finishing what needs to be done. P.S.: no fatties."
It is a far, far better thing I do than I have ever--HEY WHERE'S MY BLOWJOB BASKET?
Well, there isn't much I can add to the shitstorm surrounding AIG's payment of giant bailout-money bonuses to the idiot cartoon villains who got AIG into its current predicament. Evil buffoonery begets evil buffoonery. Spoiler alert.
A month or so ago, some muckity-muck at Wells Fargo took out a full-page ad in the New York Times whining about how mean we all were for getting mad when Wells Fargo continued taking its employees on junkets and retreats and whatnot after accepting bailout money. He implied--nope, straight-up stated--that by criticizing this wastefulness we were hurting the poor hardworking bank tellers and other low-level employees who just want to do a good job every day and deserve some special rewards. As if the bank tellers and security guards have anything to do with the catastrophic money-suck that is this guy's multibillion dollar shit-dick company. For shame, American taxpayers!
You know what kind of special reward I get for doing my job? A FUCKING PAYCHECK. I come in and go to work, and in return I get paid twice a month. It's a pretty sweet deal, guys. I do occasionally get a wee bonus; after taxes it's about enough to cover one electric bill and three songs from iTunes. This year we counted ourselves lucky that the company sprang for one lunch. And you know what? Despite our oft-dashed hopes for a muffin basket, we all still keep working. Waaaaaaaah where's my medal?
These CEOs argue that if they can't offer retreats and bonuses and junkets and blowjobs, they won't attract "the best and the brightest." Sirs, I submit to you that your various perks have attracted the opposite of that. Wait, is "the greediest and the rapiest" the opposite of "the best and the brightest"? I'm not so good with words. It sounds right.
Man, between the AIG stuff and Madoff's jailing, this class war is shaping up to be some good television. I keep expecting to see Madame Defarge in the background of one of the press conferences.
A month or so ago, some muckity-muck at Wells Fargo took out a full-page ad in the New York Times whining about how mean we all were for getting mad when Wells Fargo continued taking its employees on junkets and retreats and whatnot after accepting bailout money. He implied--nope, straight-up stated--that by criticizing this wastefulness we were hurting the poor hardworking bank tellers and other low-level employees who just want to do a good job every day and deserve some special rewards. As if the bank tellers and security guards have anything to do with the catastrophic money-suck that is this guy's multibillion dollar shit-dick company. For shame, American taxpayers!
You know what kind of special reward I get for doing my job? A FUCKING PAYCHECK. I come in and go to work, and in return I get paid twice a month. It's a pretty sweet deal, guys. I do occasionally get a wee bonus; after taxes it's about enough to cover one electric bill and three songs from iTunes. This year we counted ourselves lucky that the company sprang for one lunch. And you know what? Despite our oft-dashed hopes for a muffin basket, we all still keep working. Waaaaaaaah where's my medal?
These CEOs argue that if they can't offer retreats and bonuses and junkets and blowjobs, they won't attract "the best and the brightest." Sirs, I submit to you that your various perks have attracted the opposite of that. Wait, is "the greediest and the rapiest" the opposite of "the best and the brightest"? I'm not so good with words. It sounds right.
Man, between the AIG stuff and Madoff's jailing, this class war is shaping up to be some good television. I keep expecting to see Madame Defarge in the background of one of the press conferences.
Saturday, March 14, 2009
Rethinking my Spending Habits
The old cheap treats I used to feed my dogs are made of unspecified animal byproducts held together by synthetic chemical preservatives. My dogs, M and Q, loved them. However, because I am filled with the overwhelming desire to fix that which is not broken, I decided they need to eat healthier. Enter Mr. Fancypants' Super Expensive All-Natural Organic Treats Made from Happy Cows Who Got to Watch Cable TV and Have Massages Every Other Day Before Being Painlessly Hugged to Death by Angels.
The dogs hate them. They spit them out and refused to take any more, despite my insistence that they should eat them since I paid a lot of money for them. These are dogs who love trash, rotting animal carcasses, and cat barf. The Q has been known to snack on Kleenex straight out of the box (bet you can't eat just one!), and just last week he ate half of a 3 foot tall stack of fancy paper napkins.*
Maybe I'll cut out the middle man and feed them dollar bills, I thought derisively. These stupid dogs don't know the value of money.
When I thought about it more, though, I realized that maybe it is I who could learn a lesson from my dogs. I'm trying to force them to eat expensive treats for silly health reasons, and they're trying to tell me that they're happier licking the cans in the recycling bin.
M: Did you SEE how much money she spent on those nasty treats?
Q: I know, right? Is she made of money? Does she not know about these tough economic times?
M: Remember last week when we got a whole block of fancy cheese because she was afraid of a little mold?
Q: That girl needs recessionista lessons. Did you know that several years ago, she had to use the bathroom in the backyard with me for a whole month because she couldn't afford a plumber to fix the drains?
M: I heard that was because she used her emergency house fund to buy a digital camera.
Q: Some people never learn.
*Are you wondering why I own a 3 foot tall stack of fancy paper napkins? It was an anonymous gift. One of the good parts about my crappy ghetto neighborhood is that as well as stealing things from me, sometimes people leave me things. Besides the napkins, I've also gotten a bag of grass seed (this may have been a comment about the sad state of my front yard), a washing machine, and a bag of frozen bagels.
The dogs hate them. They spit them out and refused to take any more, despite my insistence that they should eat them since I paid a lot of money for them. These are dogs who love trash, rotting animal carcasses, and cat barf. The Q has been known to snack on Kleenex straight out of the box (bet you can't eat just one!), and just last week he ate half of a 3 foot tall stack of fancy paper napkins.*
Maybe I'll cut out the middle man and feed them dollar bills, I thought derisively. These stupid dogs don't know the value of money.
When I thought about it more, though, I realized that maybe it is I who could learn a lesson from my dogs. I'm trying to force them to eat expensive treats for silly health reasons, and they're trying to tell me that they're happier licking the cans in the recycling bin.
M: Did you SEE how much money she spent on those nasty treats?
Q: I know, right? Is she made of money? Does she not know about these tough economic times?
M: Remember last week when we got a whole block of fancy cheese because she was afraid of a little mold?
Q: That girl needs recessionista lessons. Did you know that several years ago, she had to use the bathroom in the backyard with me for a whole month because she couldn't afford a plumber to fix the drains?
M: I heard that was because she used her emergency house fund to buy a digital camera.
Q: Some people never learn.
*Are you wondering why I own a 3 foot tall stack of fancy paper napkins? It was an anonymous gift. One of the good parts about my crappy ghetto neighborhood is that as well as stealing things from me, sometimes people leave me things. Besides the napkins, I've also gotten a bag of grass seed (this may have been a comment about the sad state of my front yard), a washing machine, and a bag of frozen bagels.
Thursday, March 12, 2009
What do Kevin Bacon and the Royal Bank of Scotland have in common?
Lady Blogpants, below, has addressed some of the underlying causes of the dismaying drop in the billionaire population. Today’s arrest of Bernie Madoff highlights yet another factor, which is that some of them are getting a one-way ticket to the big house. Mr. Madoff, you remember, ran a Ponzi scheme that left him rich but cost his investors $65 billion. Let me say that again for full effect. $65 BILLION. The list of people from whom he stole, from grandmas in Florida retirement communities to Elie Wiesel, reveals what a morally bereft waste of organic compounds he is. He stole the life savings of a Nobel-Peace-Prize-winning Holocaust survivor AND 15.2 million from his charity, the Elie Wiesel Foundation for Humanity. That takes a special kind of asshole. I fail to see any reason whatsoever that this man should be allowed to live in human society, but a quick death at the hands of a vigilante squad seems too good for him, also. Justice will certainly not be served by him living out the remainder of his years at the expense of the American taxpayer in a cushy white-collar prison where he will enjoy amenities (health care, cable tv, air conditioning) that many completely innocent people in this country don’t get. How is it fair that Bernie Madoff gets air-conditioning when I don’t? Let me get this right. I'm the one who DIDN'T steal $65 billion, yet he will be lounging in comfort in his climate-controlled cell, flipping the bird to the summer heat, whilst I languish in the desert sun in a pool of my own sweat?
Here’s what he said to the judge in court. "I am actually grateful for this opportunity to publicly comment about my crimes, for which I am deeply sorry and ashamed," he said. Yes, after you’ve gotten caught is a great time to make a truly compelling apology. Your frantic dispersal of assets after the shit hit the fan showed us exactly how sorry you are. You know when would have been a more convincing time to publicly comment about your crimes? BEFORE you got caught. Maybe even a long time ago when you first started. Or maybe, just maybe, you could have realized beforehand that stealing money from Kevin Bacon and the Royal Bank of Scotland is morally and legally wrong and then NOT DONE IT. Oh, now I’m just talking nonsense.
Here’s what he said to the judge in court. "I am actually grateful for this opportunity to publicly comment about my crimes, for which I am deeply sorry and ashamed," he said. Yes, after you’ve gotten caught is a great time to make a truly compelling apology. Your frantic dispersal of assets after the shit hit the fan showed us exactly how sorry you are. You know when would have been a more convincing time to publicly comment about your crimes? BEFORE you got caught. Maybe even a long time ago when you first started. Or maybe, just maybe, you could have realized beforehand that stealing money from Kevin Bacon and the Royal Bank of Scotland is morally and legally wrong and then NOT DONE IT. Oh, now I’m just talking nonsense.
The Great Billionaire Shortage
Economically alert reader Laura from Bakersfield wrote in to let us know she read a simply horrifying article in the Wall Street Journal. It said that there are fewer billionaires than there used to be. Now, at first I assumed that was because the economic climate was impacting their habitat and they were going extinct as a result. I pictured a sad Bill Gates swimming miles through the Arctic seas looking for an ice shelf sturdy enough to have his pups upon. Then that got me thinking about Planet Earth, and how now Disney has apparently turned it into a regular movie instead of the 10-hour BBC-produced David Attenborough-narrated documentary extravaganza that got me through the long winter of 2007-2008, and if Disney makes it all cutesy-poo and doesn't show great white sharks slingshotting seals through the air I am going to be most displeased.
Anyway, it turns out it's not that billionaires are dying off any faster than usual, it's that some of them have lost enough money to drop down to being merely hundred millionaires. Can you imagine? In fact, as of 2009, there are only 793 billionaires left in the whole world. It is unknown how many of them are breeding pairs producing viable offspring, and scientists have found that billionaire offspring tend to be inbred fucktards anyway. To make matters worse, the Bush administration had downgraded billionaires from their previous "endangered" status, to merely "threatened", and Obama shows no signs of re-listing them. OH TOUGH ECONOMIC TIMES, WILL YOU SHOW NO MERCY TO THOSE WHO LEAST DESERVE IT?
Anyway, it turns out it's not that billionaires are dying off any faster than usual, it's that some of them have lost enough money to drop down to being merely hundred millionaires. Can you imagine? In fact, as of 2009, there are only 793 billionaires left in the whole world. It is unknown how many of them are breeding pairs producing viable offspring, and scientists have found that billionaire offspring tend to be inbred fucktards anyway. To make matters worse, the Bush administration had downgraded billionaires from their previous "endangered" status, to merely "threatened", and Obama shows no signs of re-listing them. OH TOUGH ECONOMIC TIMES, WILL YOU SHOW NO MERCY TO THOSE WHO LEAST DESERVE IT?
Tuesday, March 10, 2009
As Goes Cleveland
The more I read, the more I realize the members of the These Tough Economic Times team are pretty well insulated from the bad things happening in other places right now. We all still have jobs, although the team member who works for a well known adult TV network (motto: "Hoping Old Dudes Will Still Pay for Soft-Core Porn on TV in the Age of Free Hard-Core Porn on the Internet") has been wisely squirreling away his pennies for a while. Those of us who own houses are managing to keep up with mortgage payments, although said houses may not be worth quite as much as they once were. Except for Blogtastic's, which I understand was quite literally the cheapest house in Reno. None of us had enough money to invest in stocks or any other worthless pieces of paper (fingers crossed on the dollar!). We live in cities not economically dependent on car manufacturing or industry in general. In short, we're doing okay. Have I rubbed it in enough?
But holy hell, did you read the Sunday New York Times article about the thousands of abandoned, worthless houses in Cleveland? The Cleve is not doing well, you guys. Houses are selling for less than their original 1920s prices--you can buy one for $500. Of course, that house has had all its appliances and pipes ripped out by scavengers, bums have been living in it, and gangs enjoy the occasional crack party there. Oh yeah, and it's in Cleveland. But still, I kind of feel like I should buy one just because I can. Not to "flip" like all the profiteering assholes who helped cause this mess, but just to have. I'll never be able to afford one in the urban West for which I have such fondness; can't I just have one in Ohio? I would hug it and squeeze it and call it George. Oo! Maybe I could put it on a flatbed truck and move it somewhere that isn't Cleveland!
I am totally okay with all the poorly-planned, ugly sprawly 1990s McMansion suburbs being abandoned and reverting back to nature, or becoming home bases for roving bands of highwaymen. It would be kind of neat to have a post-apocalyptic part of town, especially because it would presumably eventually have a Thunderdome and some crazy new style of dancing. But I am not cool with that happening to 1920s houses in a historical neighborhood called Slavic Village. Even if they are in Cleveland.
But holy hell, did you read the Sunday New York Times article about the thousands of abandoned, worthless houses in Cleveland? The Cleve is not doing well, you guys. Houses are selling for less than their original 1920s prices--you can buy one for $500. Of course, that house has had all its appliances and pipes ripped out by scavengers, bums have been living in it, and gangs enjoy the occasional crack party there. Oh yeah, and it's in Cleveland. But still, I kind of feel like I should buy one just because I can. Not to "flip" like all the profiteering assholes who helped cause this mess, but just to have. I'll never be able to afford one in the urban West for which I have such fondness; can't I just have one in Ohio? I would hug it and squeeze it and call it George. Oo! Maybe I could put it on a flatbed truck and move it somewhere that isn't Cleveland!
I am totally okay with all the poorly-planned, ugly sprawly 1990s McMansion suburbs being abandoned and reverting back to nature, or becoming home bases for roving bands of highwaymen. It would be kind of neat to have a post-apocalyptic part of town, especially because it would presumably eventually have a Thunderdome and some crazy new style of dancing. But I am not cool with that happening to 1920s houses in a historical neighborhood called Slavic Village. Even if they are in Cleveland.
News of the Painfully Obvious
Yahoo news headline: Federal Reserve Chairman Bernanke Says Regulatory Overhaul Needed.
Gee, do you think? I can’t imagine what tipped you off on that. Perhaps the fact that we are surrounded by crumbling financial institutions taking millions upon millions of dollars of aid from the federal government after years of unregulated financial free-for-all? Good eye, Detective Bernanke.
Bernanke also said the U.S. recession could end this year only if the government is successful in getting financial markets to operate more normally again. So, let me get this right… once we can get the financial market to quit operating like it’s in a recession, we won’t be in a recession anymore. Basically you’re saying that the recession will end this year if we can end the recession. That’s very insightful. Thanks, Wizard Bernanke! He’s full of other truisms, too, such as that big companies shouldn’t take excessive risks that threaten billions of dollars of investors’ and taxpayers’ money. If only people never did things that they shouldn’t. I also shouldn’t punch you in the mouth if ever I see you in person, Mr. Bernanke.
If only there were some kind of institution responsible for regulatory oversight...
Gee, do you think? I can’t imagine what tipped you off on that. Perhaps the fact that we are surrounded by crumbling financial institutions taking millions upon millions of dollars of aid from the federal government after years of unregulated financial free-for-all? Good eye, Detective Bernanke.
Bernanke also said the U.S. recession could end this year only if the government is successful in getting financial markets to operate more normally again. So, let me get this right… once we can get the financial market to quit operating like it’s in a recession, we won’t be in a recession anymore. Basically you’re saying that the recession will end this year if we can end the recession. That’s very insightful. Thanks, Wizard Bernanke! He’s full of other truisms, too, such as that big companies shouldn’t take excessive risks that threaten billions of dollars of investors’ and taxpayers’ money. If only people never did things that they shouldn’t. I also shouldn’t punch you in the mouth if ever I see you in person, Mr. Bernanke.
If only there were some kind of institution responsible for regulatory oversight...
Monday, March 9, 2009
How To Fit In When Using Public Transportation: Hobo Slang Lesson 1
Here's how to fit in: Hobo Slang! Hobo Slang has been passed on from the original old timey bums who hopped on trains to the modern dirty bum low class people who take public transportation and now on to you! Here are a few examples of hobo slang and how to use it. Pay attention or you'll look like a sweet back (someone only sampling hobo life)!
LESSON 1:
Bindle Stick: your polka dot bandanna full of belongings tied to a stick.
"Let me pull this single lima bean out of my bindle stick and split it with a knife so we can share it!"
Zook: an old worn out prostitute.
"Hi I'm a Zook! What's your name?"
Beagles: hot dogs
"Beagles! Beagles! I love Beagles!"
Chicken In The Clay: A chicken rolled in mud and then roasted.
"What the fuck do you mean I can't start a fire in the middle of the bus? I'm trying to cook a fucking chicken in the clay!"
The Big Burg:
"Eyy This isn't-a how they-a make-a pizza in The Big Burg!"
Other hobo slang for New York City: Big Town (BE WARNED: Big Town is hobo slang for both New York AND Chicago so using Big Town in the above sentence could bring on a NY vs Chicago style pizza debate).
Clay On The Shuck: ears of corn rolled in clay and set out to roast
"Hey fellow passengers I'm making a Clay on the-wait why the fuck am I covering food with mud before I cook it?"
Dummy: A tramp that pretends to be deaf and dumb
"I can't pay the bus fare today. I'm Helen Keller! I mean I'm a dummy!"
Fag: a) a cigarette butt, b) a young hobo with homosexual tendencies
"Pardon me do you have a lighter? I think after this cigarette I'm going to attempt to have homosexual intercourse with that fag in the back of the subway"
Glomming The Grapevine: stealing clothes from a clothesline
"You wouldn't believe the deals at the Macy's sale this weekend! I felt like I was glommerganging the gloomerzang... oooh I can never get this hobo slang stuff right! Fuck it I'm getting a cab and putting it on my credit card! Hey how do you get off this thing? Conductor! Stop this bus immediately!"
Now go try those out and stay tuned for lesson 2!!!!
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