Fackts

• Hitler was not nice.
• Winning a billion dollars is a somewhat positive experience.
• A circle has less than 5 corners.
• The center of the Sun is toasty to semi-toasty.
• Mayonnaise is of little intelligence.
• Jamba Juice is good.

Word to the wise.

Time to give the Nation a pearl of investment wisdom. For those of you who don't know, a future contract is a contract for delivery of a good at a future point in time. These are traded and are pretty much always attached to a certain commodity. The prices of these contracts are governed by the dynamics of supply and demand. The following is a chart showing my prediction for pumpkin future prices.

Therefore, sell that shit and get fat paid.

Meatsnack

My good friend and roommate Dave pulled this old-school "joke" on some of our roommates the other night. It was originally done by my friend Sean about 2 years ago. I was the original victim. I'm not sure if it will translate well to this medium or if this audience will even get it. Anyhow, here's how our convo went back in oh-fo'.

Sean: "Do you like steak?"
Me: "Of course."
S: "If my penis were a steak would you eat it?"
M: "No..."
S: "It's not attached to my body or anything"
M: "Still no, obviously."
S: "It tastes like a steak, looks like a steak, smells like a steak and everything. But it's still my dick."
M: "Are we venturing into Aristotelian philosophy here? Are its steak-like properties its accidents and its substance is your penis?"
S: "What if you didn't know it was my dick?"
M: "So I don't know at the time of consumption about the true nature of said steak, but am making the decision now?"

This sort of back-and-forth goes on for a very long time and concludes as follows.

S: "Ok, so the steak has all the physical properties of a steak and is not my dick... but yet it is."
M: "Fine. If the steak has every single property of a steak I would eat the Goddamn steak."
S: "OH MY GOD YOU JUST SAID YOU'D EAT MY COCK!!! HAHAHAHAHA! Hey guys, he just said he'd eat my dick!!"

Sean goes on for the next few days telling all of our friends about my homosexual tendencies. It was ridiculous and pretty hilarious.

Ughh.

I'm really disappointed because I wrote a pretty good post and the stupid thing deleted it. I'll try to rewrite it this weekend.

Fecalshow

So my trip to NY wasn't the greatest. Both my flights there and back got delayed and I arrived at my destinations past midnight.

So what do you do when stuck at an airport?
Drink excessively. See picture.

What do you do when you're on a business trip and have a corporate card?
Expense that shit. (Now you see why I don't disclose what company for which I work. Yeah, I just rewrote that sentence to avoid ending a sentence in a preposition. Eat it.)

I was quite tipsy on both my planes. On the way back I fell asleep on the plane as soon as I took my seat. When I woke up they guy next to me had moved to another empty sleep. I must've freaked him out in my drunkedness. I vaguely remember pulling out the "barf bag" in front of me for some reason. I think that's what caused him to leave.

Longer than anticipated.

I apologize for the random, no-direction posts as of late. It's a function of laziness and my drinking habit. It's hard to hold on to a coherent thought for longer than 3 sentences with a few dranks coursing through your system. Anyhow, a few points.

Josh P. suggested a couple new beer names: Crew's Brew and Marztown Ale. I like them both.

There have been times where I kind of regretted not getting into more of a quantitative finance role. I.e., programming trading programs and stuff like that. However, I discovered several reasons why this wouldn't be ideal for me:

• You pretty much have to have a Masters/PhD to get one of the good jobs.
• Companies are beginning to outsource that type of job like crazy. They outsource my current job somewhat. However, my job is only temporary and they can't outsource everything. I feel bad for the future wannabe analysts because I suspect in 5 years these companies will be hiring less than half the analysts they do now.
• There's not much upward mobility. Best case scenario is you become head trader or something like that. But that would be the absolute ideal situation. There aren't many other options that are sweet jobs.
• Foreigners. The industry is absolutely dominated by foreigners. Hell, I have a hard time communicating with my cab driver about where I want to go.
• Far less money in the big picture. Let's face it, I care a lot about money. So do you.
• I wouldn't be great at it. A job like the one I have now is a much better fit with my skill set. I'm just not terribly talented at math and programming. I like it, and I'm a lot better than most people. But I can't hold a candle to these Visual Basic programming mathletes from Asia. Plus I just don't have the computer science background.

Ergo, this field isn't great and I no longer have second thoughts about my career choice.

So I made a life-changing decision today and decided I'm going to grow out my hair and keep it a little longer than usual. It's still going to be pretty clean since I work at a bank. I think the whole long hair idea is a good one partly because it drastically mitigates my sometimes obnoxious ear-to-head angle. For every self-deprecating comment I must also include a self-fellating comment as well. Well, not really. Anyhow, the majority of hair dressers I've gone to have commented on the sweetness of my hair. To quote my hairdresser today my hair "is awesome." I'm not joking. Seriously, I don't buy it. My hair blows and at best is ordinary. Perhaps the true power of my hair is not being utilized. Hmmmm.

Yeah, so cheapass umbrellas are worthless in Chicago. It was windy as shit and one of the spokes bent. And then a few other bent. And then the thing went completely inverted. Suffice it to say I was pissed. I administered the coup de grace by snapping the shaft completely in half. I threw it out in a trash can with at least three other broken umbrellas. Good Lord.

Jagshemash

So the hotel I'm staying at on Tuesday night, the SOHO Grand, you get a complimentary goldfish. I'm gonna set that motherfucker free. It's name is going to be Bitey and it will swim to glorious freedom through the Hudson and out into the ocean where it will reunite with its long-lost father. This is in no way a rip-off of "Finding Nemo" because this is real fucking life, son. Plus, I've never even seen that movie before. So eat it. I come up with my own ideas.

brue

I've decided that I'm going to brew my own beer soon after moving into my place. I'm trying to come up with a decent name/names for my brew/brews. Because let's be honest, the name is the most important part. Current ideas off the very top of my head:

• Spank's Drank (with a picture of my dog, Spanky, on the bottle)
• Drunk Juice
• Beer McBeerstein's Ale (or whatever kind of beer it will be)
• Brew Dawg
• Belligerency Fuel (this would have to be of extremely high % alc)

Please feel free to make suggestions.

Btw, "Jared" from Subway has gotten fatter. Fatty fat fat.

iSuckitude

I just saw one of those "Mac vs. PC" commercials where the PC is som fat, nerdy, white guy and the Mac is some supposedly cool, hip, equally pasty white guy. The whole Mac vs. PC argument can be resolved with one point. Any computer company that thought it was a good idea to have a 1-button mouse sucks. Forever. I don't care if they came up with the idea of windowed applications. I don't care if they cure cancer. I want to poison Apple.

Player Hater's Ball

I hate all these player haters. I'm just trying to shine and get my proverbial roll-on and fat cash and phatty bitches. All the while, these punk-azz bustas are all up in my piece trying to hold a player down. Why you gotta hate? They're throwing salt in my game like it's gonna snow. Sorry, it's not like I try to be this iced-up or flossed-out. This is just how I am. Hatin' on me for being mackdadpimpalicious is like hatin' on a rainbow for being beautiful.

Brique Braker

I finally beat "Brick Breaker" on my Ghettoberry. The world is now safe from the oppressing powers of clay.

A few thoughts before I sleep.

I totally regret not calling myself "Snoop Blogg" or "Snoop Bloggy Blogg" on this site. I could've called my blog the "Blogg Pound" and fellow bloggers friends "Blawgs." T'would've been good times. Although, I'm sure that a million people have thought that up already. (I haven't even looked.) It's tough to come up with truly good original ideas these days. Sigh.

If I were a sports announcer and I witnessed a big, paralyzing hit I would say, "Damn, he hit him so hard that he retroactively gave him a birth defect." I would be fired and it would be awesome.

Yeah, I wrote 3 posts today. Or, as I like to say, I've done posted up more than Julius Erving. Ok, so I have no life. Wanna fight about it?

I don't smile a lot cuz ain't nothin' pretty.
I've got a purple heart for war and I ain't never left the city.
-4!*2+2

I saw an ad for abortion the other day.

I thought I was pro-life until I saw this sign. If you see one of these kids, slap them.

Doc Ang

This commercial manages to embody something that I both hate and love about America. It's a selling point that this burger is so ginormous, has such insane artery-clogging powers, that it will actually make you fall on your ass. It is a selling point! Now that is impressive. Look at these nutrition facts. 930 calories is enough to power an A380 over the Atlantic. Or, for you scientology buffs, a rocket-powered DC-8 from the Throne of Xenu to Teegeeack. 603 of those calories are from fat. That's the equivalent to 2.5oz of lard. Just enough to grease your joints. I could go on and on, but the bottom line is that it's tastily devastating. Clogging your arteries never tasted so good.

Also, I wanted to thank a member of the Blogation Nation for her kind comment. Sizzle believes that I am her most humorous friend. In writing. Who is male. East of the Mississippi. Who was born on the 20th of a month. Thank you, Sizz. I'm going to assume that all of those qualifiers serve only as a hedge from your other friends getting jealous. Well played. Heh.

Graphiness

I've recently been analyzing the effects of alcohol on me and my personality. I tried to quantify it as best I could so I made this chart. You may need to look at this for a while to comprehend its complexities. Let me 'splain.

• Belligerency - how much noise I talk. This is directly proportional to the number of times I say "stfu."
• Wittiness- How good my jokes are. Personally, I think I'm hilarious after a few drinks, but my mind starts to waiver majorly after that.
• Motor Skills- Ability to walk, accurately slap women's asses, etc.
• Smoothness- I get much more relaxed and sociable after a few. However, things go way downhill once I get past a certain point and I start to say dumb/offensive shit. Note how this moves in line with wittiness. I have a good example of this effect. I was semi-scheming on this girl this weekend. She is this gorgeous girl and things were going great. However, people were shoving booze down my throat and I just got too drunk. Although I'm not too sure, I think that things went majorly downhill at the end of the night. I might've even fucked up the entire situation. It wouldn't have been a problem if she was as drunk as me. But she wasn't. Ugh!
• Apparent Drunkenness- This is how drunk I seem. I'm the kind of person where can hold I hold it together for a while and it's hard to tell how bad I am. However, past a certain point I fade badly. E.g., I start to dance.
• Next day memory- How well I remember the night before. You know a night is bad when you wake up the next day and start to remember the night in pieces. E.g., you see a flower and remember how you smashed a flower pot over a fetus' dome.

So after analyzing this the rational conclusion is that I should limit myself to 5 or so drinks when I am at the pinnacle of awesomeness. However, I'm not sure if that would be as fun. And I would not end up in the same ridiculous situations. There are other variables in play here, but I didn't/couldn't include them in my graph. Also, the ratings are quite arbitrary and are meant to show movement after number of drinks. That is all.

Chuckles

Ok, you may think that all I do is write about fizzyfinance. Well, perhaps you're right. Anyhow, I thought I'd publish the Chuck Norris jokes that I and my fellow coworkers came up with during training. Most of you wont get half of these.

• When CN uses CAPM he gets the actual, real-life cost of equity
• CN's bonds are rated AAAA
• CN loans negative dollars
• CN once earned 40 million dollars in fees for advising a company on how they didn't want to get roundhouse kicked by CN
• CN gets paid to hold options
• CN financed the Catholic church by issuing a loan with a first lien on Jesus.
• Some people diversify their portfolio by investing in other countries. CN diversifies his portfolio by investing in parallel dimensions.
• CN wipes his ass with Commercial Paper.
• One day CN took a short position on Rice-a-Roni. The next day San Francisco fell into the ocean. Coincidence? I don't think so.
• While bored one day CN invented the binomial option pricing model.
• CN amortizes Goodwill.
• CN bought Berkshire Hathaway class A shares at a dollar.
• If the FED needs to lower inflation they hire CN to roundhouse kick the money supply.
• CN semen futures sell for 6 souls a barrel.
• George Soros and Alan Greenspan once had sex with each other to prove they weren't gay. Their child was CN.

:-|

I have nothing to write about today. So I'm just gonna BS.

I managed to use the word "monitonically" in a credit analysis memo today and it passed inspection by my bosses. My next goal is to use "surjective," another word primarily used in math.

The guy next to me in the el today mustve had some sort of inner-ear infection. He kept falling over every time there was any sort of motion on the train. Boo.

I was at work late today, but it could've been much worse. Thanfully I remembered the "summon the Excel god" shortcut. It's ctrl+alt+shift+apple key+G. He showed up in the form of the Microsoft Office Help Wizard. See picture. I must note that I despise the Goddamn paperclip. He is a mere conduit in this situation.

Ownershipville, IL

Yeah, so tonight a low rent Katrina decided to roll through the Chitills and hand out buy-one-get-one pwnership coupons. It created a deluge of near biblical proportions in the stairwell outside our place. We had to form a bucket brigade just to stop from getting flooded. Even worse, it distorted the high-def satellite signal and we were basically sent back in time to where people had only laptops. Lame. It makes you appreciate 21st century sensory overload.

You know you're a finance analyst when...

...you make an excel model to analyze gym prices. Ok, so czech this out. The different rows represent the different pricing plans the gym rep gave me. "One of these things is not like the other." It's obnoxious how that one plan is so much cheaper than the others. How can this be? Maybe the other ones come with a free dose o' roids. Btw, $39 bucks a month is a baller-ass price for a gym in downtown . The gym is pretty nice and I'm determined to get cut over the next few months. Hell, I've got nothing better to do. (As evidenced by the image.)

This post has no title.

I stumbled upon some very insightful commentary today. I was watching the Dave Chappelle byah skit on YouTube and saw the following comment by KaibasChic regarding the clip: "dis aint even dat jokes da one i like iz da new tupac song now DATS jokes" Yeah, I know, you're going to have to read that about 10 times until the wisdom diffuses into your dome-piece.

KaibasChic, are you sure that's not your worth as a human you're talking about? Because "DATS jokes." Seriously, that comment is the hardest thing to read. Ever. I didn't know 9 year olds working at nuclear-powered, paint chip taste-testing facilities had access to computers.