this, today's Banzai featuring tim osman and blythe masters, reminds me of my favorite thing to say when confronted by an imperious bitch gnarled with pock-marked skin, stringy-lifeless hair, poor manners, inelegant movements, masculine comportment and overall contemptability...you know, the 'bossy' types.
i imagine it would go-down something like this...
{janus says to blythe something impossibly clever, cutting and coy...yet sublimely subtle}
blythe: janus, you're just a narcissistic sociopath...in that you don't recognize the superiority of your superiors, you must be a narcissistic sociopath. ipso facto...eh? don't you know we created the whole 'science' of psychology to keep you feeling inadequate, defective, down-trodden and above all inferior?
janus: blythe...do you know what happens to a woman once she loses her looks?
blythe: no, janus, why don't you tell us all.
janus: well, blythe, nothing...nothing happens to a woman once she loses her looks. so tell us all, what happens to the woman what never had them to begin with?
blythe: (silent and wrenching sobs).
so you see, gentlemen...we're not so much awaiting the fat lady's aria; i'm anxious to tip back a pint of bossy bitch's tears. for the tears of a bossy bitch are for janus like unto popeye's spinach.
lady liberty, janus is going to make you weep with a sorrow and anguish yet unimagined...then i'll strip you naked, throw you to the thugs and let them have their way with you. all your wildest fantasies and darkest desires are bout to come true, lady liberty! ('psychologically' speaking, that is).
but the truth of the matter is far more pedestrian...janus would never be caught in a bar with all those low-life drinkers and other neer-do-wells (because they don't allow the real neer-do-wells to smoke in public anymore); and so i claim the moral high-ground once again.
no, janus is happier sitting, smoking, thinkin and drinkin alone...stewing and brooding over this fallen leviathan -- amorica. the older generations have subverted and are attempting to enslave the younger generations to a vision...it's a future over which they furiously masturbate, a place where viagra, vitamins and all-inclusive vacations have sufficed in the stead of society's progress.
these baby-boomers are not 'sheeple'...they know exactly what's up. many of you are unwilling to accept that people, en mass, will happily justify and rationalize the most wicked and evil of enterprise. these baby-boomers have consciously sold our future for a bowl of venison stew (spiked with viagra). and you think they need to 'wake up'...i can assure you, they are perfectly alert, and they go on voting for moar of the same...because, well, they do not give a shit about what follows.
geezers, you have shown you don't give two shits about us...and so i care far less for you and your 'welfare'. did you feel that, geezers? yup, that was the icy claw of decreptitude sliding over your left shoulder -- bout to yank your doped-up ass into the cold-cold grave.
Welcome to "virtual reality" and a little thing we refer to as, retroactive Tax Hell. Where your on-line trading accounts and activities, can and will be used against you in your future close encounter audits with IRS technocrats over the years to come.
You were warned about this Orwellian honey trap by people who actually had your best interests at heart but you considered them enemies and luddites and stooopid. Consider it a valuable, hard earned lesson.
IF you look carefully you can see that she already had a half-finshed glass of piss and at the very moment the pic was snapped she was asking the waitress who had bought the new glass of piss just placed before her so that she could go suck his cock in the mensroom.
No. I don't own this place. I don't even come here often.
I just know where I can go get my cock sucked by pissing in a wine-glass...
You really can't 'smear' these people. Nothing you can imagine, contrive or execute upon them is near enough to damage their already infamous, notorious, rapacious reputations.
She looks like a depressed whore who is weathered from many depressions/recessions I'd still shove it in her boot just to tell my buddies at the financial aid office.
Soon it will be where’s Blythe? Then, Find Blythe in the Pizza.
Actually, I give it about two months tops before she shows up on CNBC as one of those has-been industry experts to comment "objectively" on the financial market catastrophe du jour.
“Tell me Blythe, you’ve been in a situation like this before, what’s your take on JPM’s strategy here?”, and,
“Blythe, once again we find derivatives at the center of a market catastrophe. Tell us, what role derivatives play in the market and why do we need them?”, and,
“Blythe, you’ve just published a new book titled, “Regulation Zero” in which you basically blame the Fed and Government intervention for a decade of banking failure. Tells us more about that in the context of this latest market meltdown.”, and,
Thanks everyone! It does suck to get old in many ways but it some ways it is not so bad. I guess I am a junior member of the old man's club now.;-) Tonight, I will let it be Lowenbrau. Do they even make that anymore? I think you might have to be old to even remember that green bottled pisswater.
Manip - I am old enough (55) to remember whe Lowenbrau was imported from Germany and it was one of the best beers on the market. Then they licensed it to an American brewery and began producing a US version. The result was predictable piss water. Sadly I missed the great American brew pub revival as I crashed and burned in the early 80's to join the ranks of AA.
Sorry to hear that my friend. I gave up booze(not beer though) several years ago and I quit doing drugs, if you can call marijauna a drug. I used to smoke two packs of cigs a day but I am down to a third of a pack a day but I can't quite seem to kick that habit just yet. For me, that's pretty good progress. At least I made it into the 40 and above club.
Normally, I would not say anything about a birthday but when you hit 40 you hit a milestone in life. All I really want is some Alaskan king crab to celebrate but for the price they get for it around here I might as well buy some silver instead.
I'm not sure that you could call this a poem or not. Probably more of an astute and succinct observation. Simple, brilliant and to the point. We are all in there together somewhere so for that matter, I think I will just go wrestle with my three year old son while I still can and call it good. I need to get him out of the "not old enough to know better" age and into the "old enough to know better" age. It's not about me anymore.
The Nine Ages of Man
F. Emerson Andrews
Not old enough to know better old enough to know better Not old enough to know old enough to know Not old enough old enough Not old old Not
40 on 4/4/14...so you're an aries? so is janus (3-22). but you've got me by a year, ya old fart! if i remember correctly, 74' & 75' were amorica's worst birth-rate years...they didn't want us then; and they've been terrified of us ever since (and for very good reasons).
i like your nine stages, but call janus olde fashioned -- these go to seven:
i reckon i'm still in the warrior stage (and intend on remaining there for a while). i likewise reckon these babyboomers best dawdle amiably to their second childhood and cease the perfidy that is become their politics. for they have not eyes to see nor ears to hear...like the bard said, sans everything sensory and sentient. otherwise, they're gonna get an awful spankin for their decrepit adolescence.
anyway, Manipfu..., have those king-crab legs (i had a lobster), and tip back a few cups of cheer (i finished off a full magnum of pinot grigio), and, furthermore, spark a fatty (janus had 3) and double-down on the nicotine...you're only young once. or, in the words of the wisest who ever lived, "eat, drink and be merry; for tomorrow you die."
a week ago i went to another birthday party; it was that of this college student who's become an early fan of my writing (and in the process a pretty good friend)...he's a scion of south american aristocracy with outstanding taste in literature. there were there gathered the high-born latins from cuba, venezuela, columbia, chilie, paraguay, etc. as i flirted helplessly with this doe-eyed venezuelan hottie -- innocence and curiosity mingled with such impossible irresistability -- i had one of those moments...a spark of time that ignited the fumes of my confused malaise. this awareness struck me, nay, pierced my very soul with its lucid, radiant and unalloyed truth.
i don't want to get into all the specifics and sundry whatnots regarding the truth heralded by this venezuelan angel of world-class beauty (really, no make-up and still, she'd put the whole lot of hollywood starlets into fits of catatonic shame)...i'll only say that, while i was considering california, colorado or maybe even hawaii for my next adventure, janus is now of a mind to head south...FAR south. manifest el gringo destiny!
horace greely once encouraged men of our age, aptitudes and inclinations to go west; and while he was right for a while, let janus humbly redirect us all. fuck this country! this amorica is withered, old, sclerotic, selfish, mendacious, perverse, apathetic, pilled to the hilt, feminized, predatory, duplicitous and foul. there is a new-new world; a new-new frontier; it's a massive continent, and it just so happens to be another america, only south-like.
the only way to make it in this country, in our new hyper-algotized economy of parasites sucking on parasites, is to become the homosexual consort of some old wierdo in washington d.c. or new yawk city. hell, if you're willing to do that, you may even someday become president. it's like i always tell my sons, "boys, if you want to make it in amorica, you've got to become a homosexual whore...you could launch the next profitless high-tech IPO, you could get your own show on MSNBC (don't think we don't know ronan), you could get any job at the state department, hell, boys, more than half of our 'agencies' are 'staffed' with homosexual consorts...yours is the world and all that's in it, if only you'd callous up those knees, boys."
with respect to south america, the main obstacle will be trading Football for futbol.
DaddyO, I have an Arizona Flag on my wall. It's there for the color. I bought it when I spent the winter there in '03. Loved that place, camped in the desert for free. What ever happened to y'all?
this, today's Banzai featuring tim osman and blythe masters, reminds me of my favorite thing to say when confronted by an imperious bitch gnarled with pock-marked skin, stringy-lifeless hair, poor manners, inelegant movements, masculine comportment and overall contemptability...you know, the 'bossy' types.
i imagine it would go-down something like this...
{janus says to blythe something impossibly clever, cutting and coy...yet sublimely subtle}
blythe: janus, you're just a narcissistic sociopath...in that you don't recognize the superiority of your superiors, you must be a narcissistic sociopath. ipso facto...eh? don't you know we created the whole 'science' of psychology to keep you feeling inadequate, defective, down-trodden and above all inferior?
janus: blythe...do you know what happens to a woman once she loses her looks?
blythe: no, janus, why don't you tell us all.
janus: well, blythe, nothing...nothing happens to a woman once she loses her looks. so tell us all, what happens to the woman what never had them to begin with?
blythe: (silent and wrenching sobs).
so you see, gentlemen...we're not so much awaiting the fat lady's aria; i'm anxious to tip back a pint of bossy bitch's tears. for the tears of a bossy bitch are for janus like unto popeye's spinach.
lady liberty, janus is going to make you weep with a sorrow and anguish yet unimagined...then i'll strip you naked, throw you to the thugs and let them have their way with you. all your wildest fantasies and darkest desires are bout to come true, lady liberty! ('psychologically' speaking, that is).
but the truth of the matter is far more pedestrian...janus would never be caught in a bar with all those low-life drinkers and other neer-do-wells (because they don't allow the real neer-do-wells to smoke in public anymore); and so i claim the moral high-ground once again.
no, janus is happier sitting, smoking, thinkin and drinkin alone...stewing and brooding over this fallen leviathan -- amorica. the older generations have subverted and are attempting to enslave the younger generations to a vision...it's a future over which they furiously masturbate, a place where viagra, vitamins and all-inclusive vacations have sufficed in the stead of society's progress.
these baby-boomers are not 'sheeple'...they know exactly what's up. many of you are unwilling to accept that people, en mass, will happily justify and rationalize the most wicked and evil of enterprise. these baby-boomers have consciously sold our future for a bowl of venison stew (spiked with viagra). and you think they need to 'wake up'...i can assure you, they are perfectly alert, and they go on voting for moar of the same...because, well, they do not give a shit about what follows.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KtI6ZVOzWqQ
brace yourselves for fema camps, baby-boomers.
see the rest of you at the bar...you know, for the celebration and the tear drinking.
ON YOUR KNEES, blythe!
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8JjVPiDLdH4
geezers, you have shown you don't give two shits about us...and so i care far less for you and your 'welfare'. did you feel that, geezers? yup, that was the icy claw of decreptitude sliding over your left shoulder -- bout to yank your doped-up ass into the cold-cold grave.
i used to say/
live and let live/
...but if this ever-changing world/
in which we live in/
makes you give in cry/
(i) say live and let die,
janus
WB...this comes to mind......http://www.ropeofsilicon.com/examining-quentin-tarantinos-foot-fetish/
you with Blythe as Salma and Jaime as Quentin????????
...that is the last clip...Dusk 'til Dawn....
Marry me.
(Blythe, not Banzai.)
Attention BitSters!
Welcome to "virtual reality" and a little thing we refer to as, retroactive Tax Hell. Where your on-line trading accounts and activities, can and will be used against you in your future close encounter audits with IRS technocrats over the years to come.
http://www.irs.gov/pub/irs-drop/n-14-21.pdf
You were warned about this Orwellian honey trap by people who actually had your best interests at heart but you considered them enemies and luddites and stooopid. Consider it a valuable, hard earned lesson.
Our next class will be held in the Caymans ;-)
Sounds wonderful. I'd like to attend. I haven't had a real vacation in years. Get buzzed drinking the tears of the virtual currency children.
P.S. How large is that block chain now?
Yippies!
This has to be the best anti-Krokodil poster I've seen.
Is a turban any different than a baseball cap?
Same shit, different prophet.
A distraction for the sheeple.
Stack On
Black suited him better...It will bring out the silvery moar. ;-p
I'd offer to buy her a drink but I lost all my money on silver futures.
IF you look carefully you can see that she already had a half-finshed glass of piss and at the very moment the pic was snapped she was asking the waitress who had bought the new glass of piss just placed before her so that she could go suck his cock in the mensroom.
No. I don't own this place. I don't even come here often.
I just know where I can go get my cock sucked by pissing in a wine-glass...
Besides I love the jukebox in this shithole:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=G3OaMZojJRg&list=PLDCD869FD46C2E966
I really admire your work, WB7, but think that this one's way shy of being critical - just an ad hominem smear.
You really can't 'smear' these people. Nothing you can imagine, contrive or execute upon them is near enough to damage their already infamous, notorious, rapacious reputations.
I don't think so. She is a financial tittorist.
Everyone knows it.
And everyone here is tit and tired of her unaccounted for up the market's ass bullshit.
This one is a brief goodbye kick until her ugly mug surfaces at the next snow job.
WB, well bat.
She looks like a depressed whore who is weathered from many depressions/recessions I'd still shove it in her boot just to tell my buddies at the financial aid office.
the oldest commodity in the world
Ho's and Blo
I can't quite make out the lipstick tat on her left tit.
Can we roll her over and check for the tramp stamp of authenticity? ;-)
I just lost my appetite.
Even with the boobs I still find her disgusting.
how bout a litttle Blythe/horse action
I know she can stretch it over a rain barrel. Say no more.
Soon it will be where’s Blythe? Then, Find Blythe in the Pizza.
Actually, I give it about two months tops before she shows up on CNBC as one of those has-been industry experts to comment "objectively" on the financial market catastrophe du jour.
“Tell me Blythe, you’ve been in a situation like this before, what’s your take on JPM’s strategy here?”, and,
“Blythe, once again we find derivatives at the center of a market catastrophe. Tell us, what role derivatives play in the market and why do we need them?”, and,
“Blythe, you’ve just published a new book titled, “Regulation Zero” in which you basically blame the Fed and Government intervention for a decade of banking failure. Tells us more about that in the context of this latest market meltdown.”, and,
Blah, blah, blah….
My bet is Senior Commodities Director in Russia. Vlad is newly single and the ladies like a man who can acquire beachfront property......
I'm just cynical enough to believe it (but I ain't gonna watch it!)
Hag Fund operator
don't cha' know!
- Ned
Meanwhile, at NATO's 65th Birthday Celebration...
... comes the fervent proclamation, 'WE ARE RELEVANT!'
Well, unless I die in the next four hours I will make it to the age of 40. I will have to have a drink but not with them though.;-)
Happy birthday. Welcome to the comfortable half of life ...
Happy Birthday, let it be Low Brow!
Thanks everyone! It does suck to get old in many ways but it some ways it is not so bad. I guess I am a junior member of the old man's club now.;-) Tonight, I will let it be Lowenbrau. Do they even make that anymore? I think you might have to be old to even remember that green bottled pisswater.
Tonight, let it be Lowenbrau.
Manip - I am old enough (55) to remember whe Lowenbrau was imported from Germany and it was one of the best beers on the market. Then they licensed it to an American brewery and began producing a US version. The result was predictable piss water. Sadly I missed the great American brew pub revival as I crashed and burned in the early 80's to join the ranks of AA.
Happy Birthday and may you rise above the Matrix!
Sorry to hear that my friend. I gave up booze(not beer though) several years ago and I quit doing drugs, if you can call marijauna a drug. I used to smoke two packs of cigs a day but I am down to a third of a pack a day but I can't quite seem to kick that habit just yet. For me, that's pretty good progress. At least I made it into the 40 and above club.
Normally, I would not say anything about a birthday but when you hit 40 you hit a milestone in life. All I really want is some Alaskan king crab to celebrate but for the price they get for it around here I might as well buy some silver instead.
I'm not sure that you could call this a poem or not. Probably more of an astute and succinct observation. Simple, brilliant and to the point. We are all in there together somewhere so for that matter, I think I will just go wrestle with my three year old son while I still can and call it good. I need to get him out of the "not old enough to know better" age and into the "old enough to know better" age. It's not about me anymore.
The Nine Ages of Man
F. Emerson Andrews
Not old enough to know better
old enough to know better
Not old enough to know
old enough to know
Not old enough
old enough
Not old
old
Not
happy birthday, amigo.
40 on 4/4/14...so you're an aries? so is janus (3-22). but you've got me by a year, ya old fart! if i remember correctly, 74' & 75' were amorica's worst birth-rate years...they didn't want us then; and they've been terrified of us ever since (and for very good reasons).
i like your nine stages, but call janus olde fashioned -- these go to seven:
All the world’s a stage,
And all the men and women merely players;
They have their exits and their entrances,
And one man in his time plays many parts,
His acts being seven ages. At first the infant,
Mewling and puking in the nurse’s arms;
And then the whining schoolboy, with his satchel
And shining morning face, creeping like snail
Unwillingly to school. And then the lover,
Sighing like furnace, with a woeful ballad
Made to his mistress’ eyebrow. Then a soldier,
Full of strange oaths, and bearded like the pard,
Jealous in honor, sudden and quick in quarrel,
Seeking the bubble reputation
Even in the cannon’s mouth. And then the justice,
In fair round belly with good capon lined,
With eyes severe and beard of formal cut,
Full of wise saws and modern instances;
And so he plays his part. The sixth age shifts
Into the lean and slippered pantaloon,
With spectacles on nose and pouch on side;
His youthful hose, well saved, a world too wide
For his shrunk shank; and his big manly voice,
Turning again toward childish treble, pipes
And whistles in his sound. Last scene of all,
That ends this strange eventful history,
Is second childishness and mere oblivion,
Sans teeth, sans eyes, sans taste, sans everything.
i reckon i'm still in the warrior stage (and intend on remaining there for a while). i likewise reckon these babyboomers best dawdle amiably to their second childhood and cease the perfidy that is become their politics. for they have not eyes to see nor ears to hear...like the bard said, sans everything sensory and sentient. otherwise, they're gonna get an awful spankin for their decrepit adolescence.
anyway, Manipfu..., have those king-crab legs (i had a lobster), and tip back a few cups of cheer (i finished off a full magnum of pinot grigio), and, furthermore, spark a fatty (janus had 3) and double-down on the nicotine...you're only young once. or, in the words of the wisest who ever lived, "eat, drink and be merry; for tomorrow you die."
a week ago i went to another birthday party; it was that of this college student who's become an early fan of my writing (and in the process a pretty good friend)...he's a scion of south american aristocracy with outstanding taste in literature. there were there gathered the high-born latins from cuba, venezuela, columbia, chilie, paraguay, etc. as i flirted helplessly with this doe-eyed venezuelan hottie -- innocence and curiosity mingled with such impossible irresistability -- i had one of those moments...a spark of time that ignited the fumes of my confused malaise. this awareness struck me, nay, pierced my very soul with its lucid, radiant and unalloyed truth.
i don't want to get into all the specifics and sundry whatnots regarding the truth heralded by this venezuelan angel of world-class beauty (really, no make-up and still, she'd put the whole lot of hollywood starlets into fits of catatonic shame)...i'll only say that, while i was considering california, colorado or maybe even hawaii for my next adventure, janus is now of a mind to head south...FAR south. manifest el gringo destiny!
horace greely once encouraged men of our age, aptitudes and inclinations to go west; and while he was right for a while, let janus humbly redirect us all. fuck this country! this amorica is withered, old, sclerotic, selfish, mendacious, perverse, apathetic, pilled to the hilt, feminized, predatory, duplicitous and foul. there is a new-new world; a new-new frontier; it's a massive continent, and it just so happens to be another america, only south-like.
the only way to make it in this country, in our new hyper-algotized economy of parasites sucking on parasites, is to become the homosexual consort of some old wierdo in washington d.c. or new yawk city. hell, if you're willing to do that, you may even someday become president. it's like i always tell my sons, "boys, if you want to make it in amorica, you've got to become a homosexual whore...you could launch the next profitless high-tech IPO, you could get your own show on MSNBC (don't think we don't know ronan), you could get any job at the state department, hell, boys, more than half of our 'agencies' are 'staffed' with homosexual consorts...yours is the world and all that's in it, if only you'd callous up those knees, boys."
with respect to south america, the main obstacle will be trading Football for futbol.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4TeR7P7pDxk
feliz cumpleanos, amigo!
time waits for no one/
and it won't wait for me,
janus
Happy Birthday
Old Timer
Blythe and Osama, what a pair...
DaddyO
DaddyO, I have an Arizona Flag on my wall. It's there for the color. I bought it when I spent the winter there in '03. Loved that place, camped in the desert for free. What ever happened to y'all?
Osama????
I rather thought it was Obama in his Occidental College years.
Back of the Choom Waon with Blythe. Shaken not stirred.
you have outdone yourself this time sir
She succesfully cornered the silicone market
I stand in the presence of brilliance.
Think Russia is going to stop with Crimea? Same old song & dance....every generation or two.
http://freebeacon.com/national-security/russian-ambassadors-discuss-invading-miami-california-in-leaked-call/
I would not advise invading certain sections of California, like Oakland and South Central L.A. And they'd never take East Los.
Euro minister asks russian diplomat to please take Romania and Bulgaria back. Bwahahahaha
Comedy gold
I live in California! Oh, shit! <grabs bug out bag and heads for the hills>
\sarc