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Thursday, December 31, 2009

The Golden Rule

Perhaps the most galling characteristic of the banksters -- aside from their utter lack of common sense or basic empathy -- is their sheer cluelessness. It was already obvious that they couldn't care less that their shenanigans have wrecked millions of lives so far, cost families their only homes and incomes, and all that. But they don't even seem to comprehend why those people might resent having to pay them for the privilege of having their lives wrecked. It's truly puzzling. You know, insult to injury.

(I've called them thieves all year, and I stand by that. The smoking gun in the linked article is in the beginning -- A.I.G. execs didn't even want their own stock as compensation, "worthless" in their own words even though it was trading at $40/share at the time. Does anyone still need a fucking diagram on this?)

Maybe let's illustrate the comprehension gap in Spoiled Douchebag Connecticut-ese to these bastards: Let's say the pool boy at your vacation home in the Hamptons is porking your trophy wife. You don't mind as a man so much, since you are a spineless, dickless dweeb who can't satisfy her anyway, and it keeps her off your back, so she can just go shopping and leave you to swapping made-up war stories with your trader buddies.

The thing is, the pool boy has been throwing his back into it as of late, and your trophy wife is clearly starting to think about how she can take your dumb trader ass to the cleaners, and collect six-figure alimony while she and Taylor fuck all day and drive your Cayenne around. Not cool, bro-ham!

So Taylor the cuckolding pool boy orchestrates a slip-and-fall on your pool deck, and your coke-whore trophy wife -- for whom you screwed over your first wife to cover up your insecurities at being a paunchy, balding closet case -- simultaneously hits your monkey ass with papers, requesting divorce and that mid-six-figure alimony you were dreading.

Both cases get to court. The kid that's tapping your wife gets everything he's asking for, grinning like a rube that poured cooking oil on the floor of a supermarket and pulled a sack of dog food on himself, and got fucking paid for it. And your cunt trophy wife gets twice the alimony she was asking for. And custody of the kids. And the vacay house.

Okay, Mister Banker Asshole -- how you feel about those judges, is how 99% of America feels about you. Hope that clears things up.

2 comments:

Anonymous said...

Happy New Year Heywood. I really hope it's a happy new year. We could use a break.

Marius said...

Happy new year, everybody. At least it's sunny in California.


The last time it was possible for a mob with pitchforks to string up a bunch of corrupt banksters was before the age of teevee. Now they've got American Idol to protect them; it's more effective than Blackwater.