This post is slightly overdue. I started it last week, but one of my girls got dumped and there was whiskey involved. Then it snowed in Atlanta and there was more whiskey involved. Anyway, I figured good, old fashioned, populist outrage has a shelf-life of at least a week, right? So here we go:
At this point, waxing indignant about Wall Street welfare queens squandering money at a rate that all but ensures my grandchildren will be speaking Mandarin is as original as calling Lindsay Lohan a fake-lesbian-coke whore, but I can't help myself so please bare with me. TMZ, that bastion of investigative journalism, reported that Chicago-based bank, Northern Trust, gave an enthusiastic "fuck you" to all measures of common sense, decency, and shame by hosting an AIG inspired retreat for several hundred of its customers and employees. You know, the ones they hadn't already laid off.
According to a NYT article, Northern Trust "got $1.5 billion in bailout money and then laid off 450 workers, flew hundreds of clients and employees to Los Angeles last week and treated them to four days of posh hotel rooms, salmon and filet mignon dinners, music concerts, a PGA golf tournament at the Riviera Country Club with Mercedes shuttle rides and Tiffany swag bags." Are you throwing shit yet? Save some, because it gets better. On top of the untold millions it cost to sponsor the PGA event, they paid the band Chicago $100,000 to perform; then, apparently not satisfied with one geriatric talent show, ponied up to rent a private hangar at Santa Monica airport for a lavish dinner complete with a performance by Earth, Wind and Fire; and, finally, they rented out the House of Blues to the tune of $50,000 for an intimate concert with Sheryl Crow. Sheryl's spokesbitch declined to comment on how much she charges for federal government contract work.
There's a lot to love in this story, but my personal favorite is Northern Trust's apparent attempt to outdo Chris Brown for the title of "Weakest Fucking Excuse Ever." The bank issued a statement essentially arguing that it's all kosher because they hadn't asked the government for the money. I only got a B+ in Intro to Economics but, to me, that begs the question: THEN WHY THE FUCK DID YOU TAKE IT?! That is essentially the same excuse I tried with my mom when my 19-year-old ass got "pre-approved" for a Master Card and thought it would be a good idea to spend $2000 on an iPod, Smirnoff Green Apple Vodka (kill yourself, I was 19) and Seven jeans. "But, Mom, I didn't ask for the card, they just gave it to me! What did you want me to do?" Do you think that shit worked on Carla? Hell fucking no! After she got done chasing me with the rolling pin, she sat me down and had real talk about the fact that I had "champagne taste on a beer budget" and needed to get on over it with the quickness.
I'm a barely literate waitress, but even I can tell you that somewhere a bloated, no-count, probably corrupt oversight board aren't doing their motherfucking job. I refuse to believe that the country that gave us the Declaration of Independence, Google, and Kelly Clarkson cannot figure this shit out. And if we can't, then fuck all and let's everybody just buy some ammo and move to the compound, because I wouldn't trust people that incompetent to manage my local Dairy Queen, let alone put any number of them in a room with the red phone, or red button, or whatever the hell it is we're supposed to be afraid of this week. What these bitches need is the federal government version of Mama Carla. I nominate Donna Brazile. Obama should appoint her Deputy Secretary of Common Goddamn Sense and give her carte-blanche to lay down the financial pimp hand on anyone caught pulling this bullshit. Ask Anderson Cooper, baby doesn't play.
In short, I would like to offer Congress and the Obama Administration the sage wisdom my mother imparted to me: Tighten up that game. Quickly.
At this point, waxing indignant about Wall Street welfare queens squandering money at a rate that all but ensures my grandchildren will be speaking Mandarin is as original as calling Lindsay Lohan a fake-lesbian-coke whore, but I can't help myself so please bare with me. TMZ, that bastion of investigative journalism, reported that Chicago-based bank, Northern Trust, gave an enthusiastic "fuck you" to all measures of common sense, decency, and shame by hosting an AIG inspired retreat for several hundred of its customers and employees. You know, the ones they hadn't already laid off.
According to a NYT article, Northern Trust "got $1.5 billion in bailout money and then laid off 450 workers, flew hundreds of clients and employees to Los Angeles last week and treated them to four days of posh hotel rooms, salmon and filet mignon dinners, music concerts, a PGA golf tournament at the Riviera Country Club with Mercedes shuttle rides and Tiffany swag bags." Are you throwing shit yet? Save some, because it gets better. On top of the untold millions it cost to sponsor the PGA event, they paid the band Chicago $100,000 to perform; then, apparently not satisfied with one geriatric talent show, ponied up to rent a private hangar at Santa Monica airport for a lavish dinner complete with a performance by Earth, Wind and Fire; and, finally, they rented out the House of Blues to the tune of $50,000 for an intimate concert with Sheryl Crow. Sheryl's spokesbitch declined to comment on how much she charges for federal government contract work.
There's a lot to love in this story, but my personal favorite is Northern Trust's apparent attempt to outdo Chris Brown for the title of "Weakest Fucking Excuse Ever." The bank issued a statement essentially arguing that it's all kosher because they hadn't asked the government for the money. I only got a B+ in Intro to Economics but, to me, that begs the question: THEN WHY THE FUCK DID YOU TAKE IT?! That is essentially the same excuse I tried with my mom when my 19-year-old ass got "pre-approved" for a Master Card and thought it would be a good idea to spend $2000 on an iPod, Smirnoff Green Apple Vodka (kill yourself, I was 19) and Seven jeans. "But, Mom, I didn't ask for the card, they just gave it to me! What did you want me to do?" Do you think that shit worked on Carla? Hell fucking no! After she got done chasing me with the rolling pin, she sat me down and had real talk about the fact that I had "champagne taste on a beer budget" and needed to get on over it with the quickness.
I'm a barely literate waitress, but even I can tell you that somewhere a bloated, no-count, probably corrupt oversight board aren't doing their motherfucking job. I refuse to believe that the country that gave us the Declaration of Independence, Google, and Kelly Clarkson cannot figure this shit out. And if we can't, then fuck all and let's everybody just buy some ammo and move to the compound, because I wouldn't trust people that incompetent to manage my local Dairy Queen, let alone put any number of them in a room with the red phone, or red button, or whatever the hell it is we're supposed to be afraid of this week. What these bitches need is the federal government version of Mama Carla. I nominate Donna Brazile. Obama should appoint her Deputy Secretary of Common Goddamn Sense and give her carte-blanche to lay down the financial pimp hand on anyone caught pulling this bullshit. Ask Anderson Cooper, baby doesn't play.
In short, I would like to offer Congress and the Obama Administration the sage wisdom my mother imparted to me: Tighten up that game. Quickly.
I don't really believe you're writing this. Its really good. I check it twice a day. I wrote you off as a worthless alcoholic whore. My mistake, you are, in fact, not worthless.
ReplyDeleteMom?
ReplyDeleteWas it really nine years ago when we had that conversation? Gee...it seems like it was JUST LAST WEEK!!!
ReplyDeleteCan you hurry up and write something else entertaining. My life is boring enough without having to wait for your shit.
ReplyDeleteHey Mama Carla, I am sure I remember a number of these conversations you have had to have with our precious darling here. Not to rain on her parade but she has a learning curve similar to that of an AIG exec (somewhere between gerbil and adolescent newt). That being said I love the Donna Brazil idea. In fact any black lesbian would do. What's Queen Latifah doing?
ReplyDelete