Thursday, December 24, 2015

Christmas Eve 2015 Wish List

The whole world waits for Santa Claus while I count my natural intellectual gifts. I enjoy dispensing grace, like a benevolent monarch blessing worshipful subjects while posing regally upon my resplendent throne. I willingly carry the burden of genius through this season of joy. I am sufficiently joyful for a whole bunch of you readers. Sharing my Christmas wishes multiplies such joy.

My first wish is for Wall Street to quit ripping off investors. This happens in so many guises you'd think it's hard for crooks in suits to think of new scams. Lo and behold, their creativity never ceases. Hedge funds, structured notes, multi-manager funds of funds, late-stage unicorn startup funding, and other such garbage are things the investing public can do without.

Here's another wish: Wall Street needs to quit hiring trust fund kids. It's easy for these lazy creeps to bring in new money because they just whine and cry until their parents cough up dough. The problems come later when they refuse to do work and their less privileged co-workers have to pick up the slack. The whole banking sector would be better off not hiring these mental weaklings in the first place but those new asset referral bonuses are just too good for some managers to pass up.

I wish economic annihilation for all of my enemies and bonanza for myself and my many friends. Haters crawl out from their caves to spew racism at me on Twitter or slander me anonymously online. A whole bunch of English-speaking morons can't handle my genius so of course they compensate by embracing pure evil. True friends are more fun to have around, especially when they swoon after exposure to my overwhelming talent.

Finally, I wish the idiots who take shopping carts out of grocery store parking lots would acquire their own conveyances. I used to think this phenomenon was confined to low-income neighborhoods. Now I see it in well-off San Francisco neighborhoods. A whole bunch of financially secure people think it's okay to drag a grocery store's cart all the way home and not return it. The store then has to send its workers in a truck all over the place to haul these things back. They pass the cost on to you, people, while the staff in the store remain short-handed. If you're too weak to carry more than one bag of food home, then buy your own cart, for crying out loud.

Pass the eggnog and I'll mix it with brandy. I do that all the time during the holidays. I can metabolize booze like you would not believe because I'm the next step in human evolution. Santa can squeeze his fat red behind down someone else's chimney tonight, unless he has a big pile of cash to give me with no strings attached.