Saturday, October 11, 2008

Lighten up, Michele....

My Co-blogger is letting this financial crisis get to her methinks. Don't worry, Michele...can't you see this crisis is FUNNY?:

It's funny, I say. And you won't believe who REALLY is to blame for it all...:

Markets in turmoil. 401(k) plans evaporating overnight. Huge financial institutions declaring bankruptcy. A black abyss of oblivion engulfing America, as ragged cannibal armies of hollow-eyed MBAs stagger down Wall Street, feasting on the bloated, rotting corpses of CNBC hosts in a desperate attempt to survive one more day. American are asking: how did we get here? The answer may surprise you. A growing consensus of economists now believe the current global financial Armageddon can be traced directly to Jim Treacher's out-of-control pornography debt, and its principle victim, me....

On September 26, I ran into internet blogging person Jim Treacher in the browsing stacks of Adult World Supercenter at Exit 303. After some some idle chitchat and shop talk, Mr. Treacher requested a loan for the purchase of a pornographic DVD, explaining that he was temporarily short of cash and had various biological-related needs. At various times in my life I have been pornless, so I was naturally sympathetic to his plight. I inquired as to the property he was interested in, and he enthusiastically showed me the 3-DVD box set of the classic 1992 series "Where the Boys Aren't," on special for $29.99.

In retrospect, I suppose I could have exercised more due diligence in considering Mr. Treacher's loan request. Perhaps he didn't have the most spotless credit history or employment record, but he seemed truly sincere. He was willing to put 1/3 of his own money down and sign title to the DVDs as security. Also, as an avid internet researcher I knew that the value of these DVDs has steadily increased, thanks to a growing community of vintage 90's porn collectors in Japan and Finland. Even if Mr. Treacher defaulted, what could possibly go wrong? After writing out a loan contract specifying my customary interest rate of 8.5% per hour, I handed him a crisp $20 bill and we shook hands on the deal. Luckily, I always carry a bottle of Purell.

Iowahawk continues to elaborate on how his shaky lending practices have thrown our entire country into chaos here.

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