Monday, September 22, 2008


So for some reason Gina puts him through to me, and this guy actually asks me if his money’s ok! I know, right?!”

“Shit, one more slip, and my perm budget is fucked!”

“Dear Buddha Jesus, can I please have my money back? Oooooooooohmen.”

“Listen very carefully, Honey. I want you to take all our cash and bury it under the dog house. Then you get a long, sharp stick, and poke the dog for like an hour and pour acid on him. Yeah, I saw it in a movie. You might also want to Xerox that cash so we have more. Look I don’t know Jules, I’m out of fucking options!”

“I don’t know!? I thought if the government poured almost $1 trillion dollars that they don’t have into the market it would fix things.”

Carl lost his patience with the monitor and told it to go fuck itself. 

As if things didn’t look bad enough on the trading floor last week, now random Arab Sheikhs are showing up with envelopes full of cash like it’s a going out of business sale at a generic cologne outlet.

“Hmm, I could knock down that wall and put a jacuzzi here.”

“And your son could put his rape room down by those monitors.”

“Yes, but could I put a drain on the floor? A big drain, and a real one, not this metaphorical one I see here.”

“I’m back, bitches!” 

“No you’re not. We’re all fucked. The end.”

This guy looks like he’s earning extra cash by appearing in Valtrex commercials on the side.

“I don’t know… $35 is a lot to pay right now. How about $30?” 

“I don’t know if I can go that low…”

“Hey everyone! Lloyd’s suckin’ cock for $32.50!”

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