Monday, December 30, 2013
Ivy South
Right Wing Ignoramus, Exhibit A-e & B-e*
-You jawin' bout that Colored Boy down there?
-I is for a fact. The one talks like a girl and walks like a girl.
-Does it have a boyfriend.
-I suspect. When Queerville merges with Nigville, you get
no end of wonders!
-You enjoy talkin the way we did before you went off
to the Yale College?
-You can take the Swamp outa the boy...and in your case,
the Hahvaaaahd place couldn't pull off the trick neither.
-So we continues enjoying the pig wallow that's the Republican Party!
-Sneer when you say that! You can take the pigshit outa
the boy, but...
-Uh huh? Old theme!
-I know, I know. Long's they don't take the Wall Street out.
-Ah-fuckin-men to that!
*e=Educated
Labels: education, good ole boys, Harvard, prejudice, Racial Republicans, Wall St, Yale
Monday, June 10, 2013
Piracy
We drank daily midst the wattles overlooking
the narrow river.
This early evening a pirate took to sea, standing in
a tiny skiff. "Avast ye landlubbers!"
We delivered a universal finger back.
Andy the Antagonist yelled at him "Where's your
pegleg, Asshole?"
The Pirate yelled back "You'll swing from the yardarm
for that!"
"Yeah you shouldn’t insult professions," added Billy O.
"He's heading for a do at the yacht club. Probably a real
pirate, a broker," sneered Christie.
"I can confirm former," once-Little Lucy confirmed.
fresh from her shift at The Dockery. "We're catering."
The professor put in "And I the latter. A broker of sleazy variety well-known on The Street. At any rate, Orwell says we wear a mask and our face gradually grows to fit it."
"Meaning he'll become a genuine pirate in time, if his
act keeps going over to plutocratic applause?"
asked Christie.
"Precisely. And he'll possess a yardarm then."
“Oh no!” fell Andy to the marshy grass in a fit of pseudo choking, which, though, took possession of him with dramatic intensity.
He died in Cove Hospital!
Well, seven years later...but let's hold on to a story while we can.
The broker kept his pirate act, buying a replica ship with skull and crossbones, and bona fide yardarm.
One day a junior executive will hang from it during a degrading orgy, all participants except the broker getting jail time.
He won’t escape, however, a scathing lecture from the judge. Cry in Bentley going home.
We drank daily midst the wattles overlooking
the narrow river.
This early evening a pirate took to sea, standing in
a tiny skiff. "Avast ye landlubbers!"
We delivered a universal finger back.
Andy the Antagonist yelled at him "Where's your
pegleg, Asshole?"
The Pirate yelled back "You'll swing from the yardarm
for that!"
"Yeah you shouldn’t insult professions," added Billy O.
"He's heading for a do at the yacht club. Probably a real
pirate, a broker," sneered Christie.
"I can confirm former," once-Little Lucy confirmed.
fresh from her shift at The Dockery. "We're catering."
The professor put in "And I the latter. A broker of sleazy variety well-known on The Street. At any rate, Orwell says we wear a mask and our face gradually grows to fit it."
"Meaning he'll become a genuine pirate in time, if his
act keeps going over to plutocratic applause?"
asked Christie.
"Precisely. And he'll possess a yardarm then."
“Oh no!” fell Andy to the marshy grass in a fit of pseudo choking, which, though, took possession of him with dramatic intensity.
He died in Cove Hospital!
Well, seven years later...but let's hold on to a story while we can.
The broker kept his pirate act, buying a replica ship with skull and crossbones, and bona fide yardarm.
One day a junior executive will hang from it during a degrading orgy, all participants except the broker getting jail time.
He won’t escape, however, a scathing lecture from the judge. Cry in Bentley going home.
Labels: business, orgy, Pirate, Plutocrat, Wall St
Friday, July 13, 2012
The Street, Old and Young
or O the towering feeling
(pouring half tumbler of scotch)
-I like to stay liquid. You?
-'bout quarter of that. I'm just a rookie.
-Speaking which, your impression after your
first year?
-I had no idea it was this corrupt.
-And am I corrupt, in your virginal imagination?
-Absolutely. Definitely. Without reservation.
-And yourself?
-I've managed in such a short time to reach a no-man's
land of utter filth.
-I see. And do you have a plan of ritual cleansing?
-Nope. No way back. Ever.
-I'll drink to that.
-Yeah, that's the best way for depravity: celebrate it!
-Amen!
-Amen Amen I say to you that if one young broker...
Labels: Wall St
