Thursday, February 26, 2009

Player: Whoa! Free Boat Ride For 3!

Get the fuck up! This boat is real!
Isn't it fantastic when it all comes together? Today, the deal gods loved me. Finished, count 'em, two deals in the same day. When I'm gooood, I am goooood. Just about better than cigar time (Montecristo obvi) with one of my team members, there was that relief of the invisible weight lifting. Whenever I get done with big work deadlines, that sense of freedom and accomplishment is like doing a fifth day of Goose.
So after this shit was donezo, how to rejoice? No simple celebration that any banker can enjoy would do. Well, let's see. Any team of analysts can pool their money for a VIP table (incidentally that is vacant of women). A Saturday round of golf is for the seniors. And drugs are simply for those M&A's that need to escape from the fact that they are not great, despite doing everything elitists tell them.
No I play like a champion. A weekend trip seemed logical. Vegas? I bet on sure things. Mexico? Eh, they may have another peso crisis while I'm there. To ski? I do enjoy it but adjusting to the altitude makes blacking out lame. Florida? 80 degrees with seasonal college girls waiting to meet someone with a job, let alone a multi-millionaire. Deal!
Calling one of my boys, he was down like syndrome. He called around and we almost immediately had an entourage. One of the guys we pulled into our caper can run sic game and is in the Navy. With my typical exceptional fortune, he happens to be a certified sea captain. Anyone can drive a fucking 40 foot tug boat, I'm talking about captaining one more in the 80-100 ft range. He's a good pickup. Please keep in mind this is all like 6:00 pm on a Thursday for this coming weekend. Anyway, after making the necessary expenditures (first class has got choice free booze for a pregame), it looks like a weekend with my boys in vacation mode on my buddy's boat in the Gulf of Mexico. The only thing my life lacks is Andy's nautical themed Pashmina Afghan. Enjoy your weekend, hope you find something comparable. I hear your kids want to see the Jonas Brothers: The 3D Concert Experience. Or your wife wants you to get your taxes done. Or there might be a good basketball game on...

Wednesday, February 25, 2009

Player: To Whom Much Is Given Much Is Tested

Senator Pat Geary: I despise the way you pose yourself. You and your whole fucking family.
Michael Corleone: We're both part of the same hypocrisy, senator...

It's always sweet when bankers are the ones who give the most money to campaigns for both political parties. Besides it being a commendable hedging strategy, the buying of every politician is such a delightfully incestuous game to me.

Game to run the universe goes something like this. Problem: Mr. Ty Hermes aka balla banker needs power. No one can imagine a smart guy like Ty who doesn't care about your feelings in office, because he can't even predict the stupid shit the American people will get fired up about next.

Few Examples:

  • Refusing to have a flag on your suit lappel made you un-American? Ty just thought thats what the retail cretins and BAC employees have to do.
  • Letting your VP candidate spend several thousand on clothes at luxurious 5th avenue? Ty doesn't understand. That bitch was hot. Good thing the press did not catch wind for the lingerie she bought for private banker fundraisers.
  • Allowing Madoff, Stanford, and other managers that are asshole thieves be unregulated? Let Ty know when you have the minimum $1.5 mill. to be an investor in a fund like that. 'Til then, check to see if Vanguard can handle your $40,000 life savings. Mind your own businees, driver.
For these things, we bankers are called out of touch by the American people. The banker understands that with his intellegence and overall disdain for all the Joe the Plummers that he needs to find someone who can communicate with them. You know, someone 'you could have a beer with.' Essentially, someone who is as dumb as you are. The prez may talk a good game about helping 'people and not banks,' but get him in the smoking room for his real thoughts:

Thanks bud. But I do think he may be a little sore that he didn't go to the Firm and instead went to be a community organizer, so he may come after us...

Monday, February 23, 2009

Player: Ride The Volatility Wave!

I'm sorry I'm not sorry for putting up the pic below instead of an extreme surfing pic with monstrous waves.

I remember a conversation in the summer of '07 I had with an investor whom was one of the most successful I know (No small feat. Incidentally, I also respect him. I know, a rarity.) This time was when things were really starting to cook up in the markets with 300 point swings a day. I always valued his thoughts so I asked him, what do you think the markets are going to be like in the future? He replied, "Volatile!"

The investor then went on to say that big market moves of 300 points a day were not such a big deal since the DOW was around 13,500. He literally said this, "It's not like the DOW is at 7,000 or 8,000 like a few years ago, where hundreds of points days mean as much..."

Say what you will about the markets but like a stoned surfer, duuuuuude I love the big waves. The intensity and raw power of the storm has got the waves of volumes, like, radical. Granted this is like the surfer who goes out in a hurricane for swells, but I scream, "Righteous! Righteous!"

A lot of players have wiped out (bankrupt) or watch from the beach (pussies with gold treasuries. Can't say flight to quality without SELL!) or broken their legs (about to hahaha...wipe out...denananana....) so if you are lucky enough to be on your board, this can be lucrative and certainly most fun. Call me crazy but everyday since 2007 have been so action packed, my job is just fascinating. Every person has to know their shit better now in any financial role. Grab a surfboard and fuckin get at it!

This one is a no shit call from that one meathead trader (I actually do like their breed on the whole) from CNBC's Fast Money. As an aside, Fast Money is the only show worth a damn from CNBC; I just don't get why it's on at 5 (when everyone is still working) and midnight (when everyone is asleep or blacked out).

In case you couldn't guess before, traders are buying calls on volatility (VIX). Fucking a, boys! Fortunes are being made and lost as stocks fluctuate 20% in two days. And whenever captains of the universe Pandit and Lewis say shit like:

"We see no reason why a bank like ours should be nationalized...there's no reason why a company that is profitable with strong levels of capital and liquidity should be considered for nationalization...speculation about nationalization is based on a lack of understanding."

The world's most powerful people, the CEO's and Presidents, cannot control these unforgiving swells. I gave up on their credibility and I'm not the only one. Control is an illusion.

I like to remind myself how much more significant and how much more accepting we are of these big volume days when a market was 14,000 not too long ago. So I do my best in my job/in my investments and raise my hands on the roller coaster. It's probably a death wish but I think the waves of the financial tsunami are awesome duuuuuude.

Sunday, February 22, 2009

Nothing: Sign of the Times

From the Journal on Dubai losing a lot of real estate value and other problems:

"Los Angeles Times columnist Rosa Brooks shed no tears that "Dubai may be going down," finding it "hard not to be revolted" by a state that "doesn't really produce anything of value" but is a playground for "cold-eyed Russian oligarchs, coked-out London pop stars and the spoiled princelings of global finance." "

I particuliarly was fond of the 'spoiled princelings of global finance' phrase. I'd be jealous too if I was needing my monthly salary to pay off a mortgage. Not too worried. Self-interest is an unstoppable force and global wealth, the result, cannot be hindered forever.

I hear it's a good time to buy in the Hamptons now.

Nothing: The Capitalist's N Word



Permit me to demonstrate the horrors of bank nationalization through a contrast of myself and this tool I recently met.

I went to a black tie benefit event the other night and those charities always make me quite reflective. My prevailing thought was not how I could help the kids but how I would bang 90% of the chicks there. I also remember drunkenly looking up at the room's massive chandeliers, and reflecting about people who could not afford the event (there were probably some in the room with me).

The event itself was a bachelor / bachelorette auction and I enjoyed it immensely. Nothing like bidding on luxurious vacation packages that include dates with these beautiful women. I did not buy myself one though. It's like my grandma said, 'Why buy the cow, when you get the sex for free?' I met a nice blonde bimbo (hot pink dress and tan) and got inside of her in a conference room near the event. Easy as arbitrage! I'm not telling you this to impress you (though I can't help but be proud of it); I'm telling you this to establish the contrast in this story.

Anyway, after texting my boys about the big W and washing my hands, the event was winding down. I texted back these two girls (I'm waiting for the opportune moment to ask for a threesome) to see whaddup. (I love naive women, one had originally texted, "Stop passing out ur business cards at charity functions & come drink w/ us!!") Ladies were already at "Dorsia" for drinks. Though it was about midnight on a weekend and "Dorsia" was, well, "Dorsia," I strolled past the winding and unmoving line. Fortunately, the ladies sent down some dude to help me get inside instantly. Beats paying a cover and standing in the cold. They were glowing when they saw me, do you think it was the pimp 3 piece suit?

Then I met this tool, who was with one of my girls. This broad, she just broke up with her LDR BF of several years and I think this guy is her rebound. First of all, this guy was short. If history teaches us anything, it's that short people suck. Look at Napoleon. That fucker had to conquer most of Europe to get people to like him. And I figure people still didn't like Napoleon that much at the end of the day. I wish I could describe him more, regrettably he had no real personality or memorable traits besides how much he sucked. Get this. Turns out he's a trader at BAC. Christ, no wonder that bitch is insolvent. I told the future threesome girl #2 loudly that I had heard that BAC has height requirements for their traders. He definitely overheard me. And her response shook me to the core. She says, "But he's so baller!" I laughed loudly at this and would have loved to delve more into it with her but 'Livin on a Prayer' came on. Grabbed future threesome girl #1 and my Cape Cod to head to the dance floor. The opportunity cost was too great to talk sense with girl #2.

I think the reason I was so surprised by this statement of idiocy was the word choice. Baller??? Many words come to mind with this guy such as wimp or loser. But baller is the least likely word I would choose. I understand she's rebounding but no need to go slumming, she's a pretty girl with what seemed like decent judgment. Then I realized it. Just as some people think a farm boy from upstate New York is remarkable, others also believe nationalizing is baller. Cool, we can have these fucking lame government bankers with government salaries! Am I the only one who noticed FDR was literally too lame to stand? I'm pretty confident nationalization is going to happen since it's the easiest thing to do for the government. I remember the glory days where things that failed got eliminated. If you feel something needs to be done, loans to profitable banks maybe works.

I'm concerned that I caught a glimpse of these future baller government bankers through meeting this guy. Again, I should probably stress the contrast between the two of us. There is myself, the cutthroat banker wearing a three piece suit, Italian knit shirt, Kanye West glasses, and Vineyard Vines tie who just got his from some slut at a charity. Then there is this guy, who had no real muscle tone under his tan Gap sweater. His lack of intellect surely fits in well with the other meathead traders on his floor. It just worries me that bankers will have a real dip in quality and gives us all a bad name with nationalization. With further government intervention, women will completely not be able to judge bankers' ballerness correctly. Ultimately, there is one positive thing that can come of this. Though bankers will have to endure more tools like this guy in our bars, we know where we stand against them. With this nationalization, we get another layer in the finance hierarchy. I just have not decided which job is lower, government banker or bank teller...

Thursday, February 19, 2009

Player: International Playboys (obvi!)

"That's a fair thought to lie between maid's legs"
-Billy Shakespeare-
After talking to my boss (dont worry he's a rainmaker and we do team payouts) and watching other big boy bankers in our building, they seem...well, stressed. Don't get me wrong, what the fuck do you expect guy? I'm certainly not advocating anyone being a gapping vagina. The late hours are when deals are gloriously made. It's the miracle of economic life created by a banker and an Excel sheet (who love each other very much...). For the rated R version, the deal is the (sometimes unwanted) product of a one night stand. With Red Bull as the liquid to help your vision, the banker has to assert his dominance on Excel, an object that will do whatever he wants. Granted you have to know which buttons to push; let's be real if you use a mouse that’s like not being able to unsnap the bra. And if you stay late and know you made a deal that looks good, you feel like you just got off and all you want to do is go to sleep. I hope you know what I mean if you have done it. But like I said, this wave of stress is unusual. The cause is certainly obvious. My rainmaker manager says he is 'nauseous' looking at economic information, others are fighting for their jobs. OK, so a lot of banks hit their 52 week low today. Mine included.
Nevertheless, besides the usual wear and tear, I feel calm about this meltdown. I know where I'm at financially and in life (my resume is top-notch). If this thing goes to the shit house, I would be excited to pursue another title that I simply must achieve before I'm dead and gone: International Playboy. The hurdles are numerous. There's a lot of training required, the game never lets up, and the associated swagga just cannot fade. But it's been a dream of mine since seeing my first boobies on the silver screen. In retrospect, that red head on Titanic really needed to tighten a bit, but for my impressionable eyes, it was enough to spark the fire. Now listen, I know what you're thinking and I appreciate your sentiments. Your like dude, you already are very secure in slaying the hoes with a job in finance in addition to your enigmatic background, personality, etc. Why give up what you have? Certainly, it's not without risk. Concerning International Playboys, we all can't be Mr. Hefner. Just look at Larry Flynt (I am not even going to bother checking the spelling for that trashy perv's name. The Hustler mag guy. Enough on such disturbing items.)
The pitfalls are out there but I understand them. A womanizer attempting to be an International Playboy like Jack Nicholson can be perceived as sleazy and end up like Colin Farrell. Membership in the International Playboy club can be questioned when you get blown by Monika Lewinsky as opposed to Marylyn Monroe (To be fair Bill, there are no Republicans even being considered in the I.P. Hall of Fame. I humbly wish to be the first). The other major pitfall by being around and tapping pussy all the time is you lose your masculinity. You cannot tell me that pretty Tom Brady in all his photo shoots and man-purses is an unquestioned International Playboy. He needed to knock up that model to make the other Pats feel comfortable in the showers. And no settling down. I don't care if you are tapping Angelina or Beyonce, you lose your masculinity. Straight up. All the pussy on the side will not stop the constant fear of getting caught. Playas can't sweat that swagga.
Here's the deal. To be on top of the womanizing world, you need three things:
1. Some sort of claim to fame. You need a reason to convince people you are the man (bankers have disposition to do this already). If it's crooning like JT, charming like hedgie Arpad Busson, or pretending like Clooney, the International Playboy needs a unique identity.
2. Fool dozens to hundreds of top-shelf women into sleeping with you. This one seems intuitive but peel this onion of wisdom. There are hundreds of horny assholes around hot women whenever they go out, go to work, go eat. The International Playboy is able to fool women into thinking we not only listen but actually care about what is coming out of their prattling mouths. The smartest thing ever said about scoring was from a woman of all creatures. International Playboy Warren Beatty's sister, Shirley MacLaine, said about Warren, "He was able to make women fall in love with themselves."
That's it. The I.P. is great but is greater because he thinks you are great too! You dumb slut.
3. Pride. It's important for the world to know that you score pretty much every half hour. Girls respect that kind of honesty. Enjoy the life! That's my roadmap to success.

Wednesday, February 18, 2009

Player: UBS

These days, the tales of victimization is everywhere on the headlines. There's no doubt I've been fortunate in life but that doesn't mean I dicked around to be better than 99.99999% of all humans. I've worked my whole life, my game only elevating through school then finance.

I first went to a top tier private school to excel in squash. Initially, it was frustrating to lose. I will admit in my immaturity to even choking a teammate with my racquet while screaming, 'My life SUCKS!' until his face went red. I eventually learned to channel what my coach called a competitive drive.
An exceptional (private) university then followed where I had to run a most coveted fraternity. Here my analytical and objective-solving skills came into play. When to order the shuttles to not pick up guys, because the ratio was getting skewed (4:1 freshmen ladies: brothers). How to reason with lawyers, deans, or police who barely fathom what a Heaven and Hell theme means. Or how to make out with multiple girls on a dance floor at the same time (try this solution: Ice Cube Game-count the times the three of you can pass it around!).
Using father's connections, I received a posh internship on "Not Park Ave" in a city. After a summer of blacking out nightly, what would inevitably follow were occupations at banks with top comparative asset sizes, PE with no capital issues, then eventually straight world domination. Everyone has problems; it’s the ones who positively think about solving them that succeed.

This is why I don't understand all these 'victims.' Look at this lottery winner.

Not only did Stewie open the flood gates for other smokers, his $8 million was robbed from one of the most capitalist companies in the last century. If I ever consider a career in helping others, being a smoking lobbyist would be on top of my list. I love them (I would never smoke besides Montecristos, that shit kills). I'm just in awe of that company that can provide customers exactly what they want whenever they desire it.

Speaking of good companies helping people, I arrive to UBS. Evidently, the Swiss do banking now, which may be a solid way to diversify a GDP based solely on pocket knives and chocolates.

$780 million? Now we are talking on my level. This makes Philip Morris seem lucky. So this bank from Switzerland helped people keep their retirement money. Does anyone really feel like the IRS needed it more then you or me? Now the IRS is also a victim, the same IRS who I thought was the biggest asshole in the world. Splendid.

As long as the plebs continue to claim to be victimized by capitalists and bankers, I see no recovery in sight. Free markets are on my side baby. That’s like knowing God has my back (whose invisible hand did you think is bitch-smacking your laughable pension?)

In the description of the markets by a smart dude Carter Worth, chief market technician at Oppenheimer, “Basically the market's fair money, dead money, it just needs to wallow...We're in the apathy phase. All the long-only money is holding back and is in maximum cash. That's apathetic behavior. At the hedge fund level, they have their margin leverage reduced to record lows. That's apathetic behavior."

We bankers, hedgies, and capitalists will apathetically chill til y'all get your shit together. Look past your obstacles, you losers, to become high performers. It might be an idle hope though. If my success was easy, everybody would do it.

Monday, February 16, 2009

Player: "King of the South"

I was up in the club the other day feeling the flow on my Red Bull high and doing my perfected routine of 'trolling.' Back in my boyhood years, my family's ship captain Jacque taught me the fishing technique in the Caribbean. I nostalgically recall his French instructions, 'Le Petit Prince, just throw out ze line and wait for ze bite.' We would spend happy hours in the boat moving slowly yet purposefully until one of the innocent lines was bitten on. The similarities between trolling for ladies in the club and for Caribbean fish are numerous. Both are comparable in intelligence, look brightly colored, and can be easily lured with shiny bait. All I have to do is to move slowly yet purposefully until one in the school playfully snaps my suspenders or implores for a pic with my Kanye West glasses.
However, when I heard the glorious "My Life, Your Entertainment" thundering in the club, I was awestruck. I felt such kinship to the artist TI, I stopped my 'trolling' routine to research a bit more about the 'King of the South' on my Iphone. (Always an unorthodox banker, I feel that the Iphone offers me comparable services to RIMM. Work pays for either in any event.)

It was then that I discovered his new MTV show, 'Road to Redemption.' TI needs to show his altruistic side before he goes to jail (in order to shorten his sentence). The premise of 'Road' is that TI, the patron saint of public schoolers, shows misguided youths the error of their ways as hustlers, drug dealers, gang members, etc. In one episode, he saved a Mr. 'Pee-Wee' from a life of crime. TI did this by putting 'Pee-Wee' in a jail cell for a few hours, while TI went to go eat Mexican food. TI then offered his career advice, suggesting several occupations that require no education or marketable skills. 'Pee-Wee' took on acting classes to be a Shakespeare thespian; I only fear his illiteracy will prove to be a hindrance to his big break. In any event, after TI deters these wretched souls from a life of crime, they go on to lead blissful though unemployed lives.

I have since surmised that CNBC or Fox Business (Lord knows they need the ratings) could hire a banker to do a similar act. All the producers need is to find a banker facing insider trading or a John Thain seeking to improve his image. They are a dime a dozen these days.
I know several hipsters, mostly college students, who really need to change the path they are on or they will inevitably end up living in the projects. Take a college student in his junior that I know, called 'James.' The road he is on can only end up in vagrancy: the English major. James claims to be passionate about film. While this initially seems reasonable since there are plenty of reputable hedge funds that invest in profitable films such as "The Fantastic 4: The Rise of the Silver Surfer," James is not interested. He once told me he wants to be in film to 'make art.' Quite alarming indeed. It can be reasonably inferred this wayward student will go the way of the hustler: dead, in jail, or a Starbucks server. Another is 'Charles,' a senior-year physics major. Charles chose a major that was most compatible for smoking pot every day. At least it's a cheap drug. If he really applies himself and his calling takes him to the pinnacles of success, do you know where that takes him? Right where he is today: college. But as a prof, he won't be able to blast the freshmen ladies in the face. Okay, okay, not like he took advantage of that chance in college anyway but the opportunity was possible. Why would someone choose a job where the best car they can get would be a used Volvo? (token Democrat for president bumper sticker included!) Another life that will inevitably be squandered is 'Mary,' a senior-year communications major. She is someone who believes in living the life to the fullest, and I know this because she was partial to blacking out and hooking up with multiple dudes in one night. Some who she met that night. Ah, carpe diem! Mary so enjoyed being abroad in 'London' that her goal is to go back there to be a bartender. Again, she has poorly chosen her future path. My expectation for my waitresses objectively necessitates a tighter body than yours, Mary. Her big tits can only take her so far. I suppose her natural inclination to live life to fullest by hooking up with strangers will serve her well in her probable final career as a prostitute. If she can network well, minor success in porno is also possible.

With all these misguided individuals, wouldn't it be grand if a banker could show these idiots the dangerous path they are on? I guess the ultimate problem is that bankers are too self-centered on success and themselves to waste time on inevitable fuck ups. Oh, well. The world needs valets too.

Friday, February 13, 2009

Nothing: The Between Banks Bankers

There are several 'friends' that are between jobs right now and its pretty sad. I'm slightly uncomfortable calling them 'friends' sometimes considering they have no income. I would relate hanging out with them somewhat to community service, however, I have never been to a homeless shelter or Red Cross or whatever so there is no basis of comparison. One pal claimed to be victimized by a Credit Suisse hiring freeze. When I ask him how things are going, he claims he goes to the gym a lot and drinks in the afternoons sometimes to "spice things up." Another bankless bud seems to have lost hope. He has been moping at home all day and has gotten so negative and depressed, he will tell me things like, "Tell me how we are not fucked."
I respond reasonably that, "I'm not fucked. Sucks for you America."
He will emotionally spout statistics, "You'll be fucked when you are paying 70% tax and dealing with 20% inflation!" or something.
I did not have the heart to say that his lack of cash flow would qualify him for government support.

Another case said he would never apply for another bank because the industry was so unstable and that "there will be a day you discover money doesn't grow on trees." What a quaint expression, I had never heard of a proverb for frugality before. Nevertheless, I am a realist. I have understood and currently understand there are these black swan events. Just because my bank account has doubled litterally every month since I have started work does not mean that it will always be so. There may be the day that it gets cut off. Fine.
Banking is about intellegence and this is a survival game. One has to be mentally prepared for the 'fat tail' event. I'm not talking about quantitative distributions; I'm talking about the sobering morning of hooking up with a chick with a cute face but a lobster body (all the meat is in the back).

I want to encourage those downtrodden between bank bankers that life is all relative.
Oh, you are bitter you didn't get a bonus?
Take pride in the fact that you have Vineyard Vines ties of every pastel!

Oh, you are freaking out about your company falling apart? The stock price dipping?
Maybe you shouldn't have had all your retirement account in your one company.
But everyone knew the culture was such a competitive advantage!
Listen. You should believe in yourself over the convictions of a CEO from Queens or the assurances of the Treasury Sec from some 2nd tier Ivy in New Hampshire.

Oh, you are worried about your job security or lack thereof?
Yeah, I guess I would hate having the free time to take a trip with my boys to Cancun to plow the spring break '09 sorostitutes. You may be employed 5 days a year but that means you have 360 days off!

After banking, its not healthy to think your life has peaked at such a young age (though it probably has). The key to happiness for a banker or hipster is this: stop worrying about what you don't have and think about what you do have.
I may not have any real free time right now. Not upset. What I do have is a 50 foot boat docked in the Gulf of Mexico that I have never taken a trip on. Yet.

Player: Michael Lewis

Below is an emailed convo with a banker bretherin I'll call "Christopher" (Be sure to read the article by Lewis as well):

From: Me
Sent: Friday, February 13, 2009 9:10 AM
To: Christopher
Subject: bravo

This is an article I knew you would stand up from your chair and applaud.

From: Christopher
Sent: Friday, February 13, 2009 10:15 AM
To: Me
Subject: RE: bravo

OMG. This dude is awesome. I love this man. He is exactly like me….it's crazy.

From: Me
Sent: Friday, February 13, 2009 10:29 AM
To: Christopher
Subject: RE: bravo

I take it by calling Michael Lewis from Liar's Poker 'this dude' you are not familiar. In case you haven't read Liar's Poker yet, it is the nonfiction account of Lewis's road to being a baller trader a 'Salmon' in the 80s. You cannot call yourself a banker having not read this. Like you would get laughed at in some circles not having read this so I hope you have (it's a quick read).
FYI, I have treated myself to bottle services this weekend. Not at "Big Poppa Club" but a perfectly reputable place.

From: Christopher
Sent: Friday, February 13, 2009 10:35 AM
To: Me
Subject: RE: bravo

Obviously I know who Michael Lewis is. And no I have not read "liar's Poker". I am glad to hear that you had bottle service…I assume the ladies were impressed. I will be treating myself and my wife to bottle service tonight at a club called "Hypnotize Club" in "Life After Death City." Should be nice. How is work coming? Mine is coming very well. A lot business out there for the taking, if you have the skills to take it. Also, where did you get bottle service and how much did it cost? If it was under $200 doesn't count.
F.Y.I.-I bought my wife a long haired, full length mink coat for valentines day at a silent auction. It's all good because I have a swap deal that I should close this quarter and the fee income will pay for it.
-M.B.T.S.- I changed it from M.B.P.*, because the new initials for the intuitively challenged mean-more baller than Sherman.

From: Me
Sent: Friday, February 13, 2009 11:02 AM
To: Christopher
Subject:RE: bravo

Client and prospect meetings the next 5 of 6 business days. Have fun in a club with your wife. I would rather take my grandmother. I'm not worried about anyone fucking her and she doesn't care about me getting digits. Give me a call if you want to talk about bottle services this afternoon, but I assure you, it wasn't cheap.

Why buy a fur coat when clearly the winter is ending within a month? I would hate to see how you invest your money, or whatever is left.

Read Liar's Poker. You embarrass me.


Christopher called earlier and we discussed our respective costs of bottle service. I told him I dropped $400 plus 20% gratiuity and taxes. He said 'nice' but then did not mention his cost. We also discussed the pros and cons of prostitutes and strippers.

*Originally, Major Banker Player

Thursday, February 12, 2009

A player: This weekend

Ah, the life of a banker, raging on Goose and Red Bull for 72 hours with an occasional round of golf. A bond trader and good buddy is coming in this weekend (bottle service is a must) and has proposed such contest via excel of course:

1 First Makeout

2 total makouts

3 hottest makeout

4 First number close

5 Best lie (believed)

6 Best lie (not believed)

7 Most rediculous lie

8 Worst lie

9 Total numbers gotten

10 Hookup in Pool

11 hookup in car

12 hookup in most random area

13 wedding proposal

14 best fake accent

15 most random makeout spot

16 most rediculous makout spot

17 first to get thrown out of bar

18 best wingman act

19 fattest girl

20 funniest place to wakeup

21 cab ride hookup

22 hottest girl(as judged at time)

23 ugliest girl(as judged at time)

24 first to boot

25 boot and rebound story

26 best picture

27 dumbest thing you convinced a girl was true

28 best insult

29 best pickup line

30 worst pickup line

31 sketchiest action

32 womans clothing aquired

33 sloppiest hookup

34 best made up job

35 best shutdown

36 best picture

37 being called an asshole

38 being called a dick

39 being called a combination of explicts

40 slow dancing(with music)

41 slow dancing(without music)

42 getting slapped

43 slapping titties

44 drunk driving

This list is subject to additions and the points will be evaluated effectively at the end of said sic nasteeee weekend....

A Player: Brian Wesbury

Good points for Mark to Market:

Though the current system clearly is god awful, valuing these things is the soon to be $1 question. Any thoughts?

The way I see it, though Timmy didnt say much of anything, there are three ways to do this bitch.

1. Make sidepockets for these things as suggested by Soros. Check it on the Op-Ed WSJ.

2. Make a government program to take these suckers on the market.

3. The atom bomb. Nationalize it. The Tyler Durden theory of debt.

Nothing: Teachers

This is the closest this guidance counselor guy will ever come to banking. Those in with any finance experience should appreciate this dude's lack of understanding.
I got a text from a fellow banker, "I saw my high school teacher last night. I think he was jealous now that I make more money than him."

Keep pimpin, goddam, keep pimpin...

Nothing: Class war!

Gone are the golden days and in are the days of protectionism, populism, and pragmatism. Isms in my opinion are not good. I'm looking around for the heroes of my boyhood, the Gekkos, the Batemans, the McCoys.

Unfortunately, I'm surrounded by some Congresswoman who can only accusatorily and verbosely call bankers “captains of the universe.” Thank you Ken Lewis for proving that the shareholders haven't cut off your balls quite yet by responding with a little sass. These CEO’s are mired by some Masshole with epilepsy who wants to bring the creator of all the world's CDS into a hearing. I'm impressed you learned the acronym, though it is the politicians' forte after all.

But are you serious? What do you want Congress, some masked man? “It was I, you fools, Sherman Gatsby, who single handedly created all CDS's ever!”

I may have some disagreements with some bank CEO’s still having jobs, yet, I think they could have had a more productive day instead of the DC bullshit. Even the car company’s CEOs (which shouldn’t exist today) shouldn’t have to endure questions by Dodd on how come the companies never came up with more mass transportation plans. Give me a break.

Here’s a good follow up on Wednesday’s schenanigans:

Wednesday, February 11, 2009

Value Proposition

This is a dark storm, no fucking question about that. The ships of all financial institutions are flooding if not capsized already. I've had friends who traded valiantly to their last until the blowhard wind of the Fed toppled the Lehman ship over. After braving wave after wave of job cuts, I've had enemies washed overboard with other ibankers at the H.M.S. MS. It is such a monetary monsoon that my fellow bankers at Smith Barney and even pitiable Wachovia do not even know the name of their boat. The bankers, those daring sailors, are gulped down by the dark current with more suck than the seamen swallowed by our gold digging go-to's.

Something has changed within me. It must be a result of this crisis. I have learned that my brain's frontal lobes, among other executive functions, can focus on the abstract plight of people I don't know. I believe the result is called pity.

Yet, I am still trying to reason through the concept of understanding unknown or incomparable people. This is simply because my life is exclusive to theirs. I asked one of my boys, who happens to be Indian, if it makes me a racist when I think every Indian must be a quant that I see during lunch. (To be fair, BAC has a lot of analysts in the adjacent building where I work and those fuckers travel in business casual packs. Losers.)

While he laughed it off, he texted back, "I like that everyone that is not a banker is a hipster to you." It's kind of true. Frankly, all my life I have had such privilege; my rarity of experience makes life different. One day my bank's stock price went down 7% and I giddily got bottle service for the weekend. Why the fuck not? Someone has to keep liquidity in this economy! I sometimes illusion myself as altruistic for the world economy, and my heart flutters at the concept of some drunk girl who needs to forget about her 401-k for a night. See? My sense of empathy is growing!

Ultimately, the value added of this blog is twofold. The first value I propose is for you to benefit from my thoughts and judgments. Let me tell you a quick story to illustrate my growing awareness of others:
Not a few months ago, I met a banker at a function who somehow managed to wear three different shades of black in his suit. His belt, blazer, and pants all were distinctly dissimilar. To top this monstrosity off, he wore a red shirt. I mean, this guy had it coming.
Then I saw his cute girlfriend. This feeling came besides the selfish lust. It was odd; I felt a need to let his girlfriend know what fucking a banker really was like. What an incredible feeling, I mean, besides banging her, knowing that she was benefiting from my personal generosity/doing whatever the hell I want. Yes, her squealing 'what do you want me to do?' a few times in my ear is exactly the kind of reaction I am hoping the reader will have after reading these future entries.

The second is me. You are a beneficiary but ultimately I am doing this for myself. I had a fellow banker tell me whenever I am in a meeting that wastes time, I get this look on my face (that I have since attempted to mask). He described it as “boredom and disgust.” I objectively judge events and people for a living. I suddenly feel a need to judge more.

So I give you ladies and gentlemen: A Player. Or Nothing. With the rarity of transparency and despite a thinning of the herd, I hope that I can offer some insight on whether something or someone is A Player (PE, Grey Goose Pear with lime, Kravis, Mack, Busson, watches that self-wind ie Rolex, Bulova, etc.) or Nothing (Retail obvi, people that leave the office at 5, lawyers, accountants, artists, most people...).