players

Hope all goes well. Had a tough wk. But not as bad as my buddy Matt. Who got attacked by 12 sharks. 8-10 footers. In open ocean. He left his head-cam on. So I got to watch the video. A deckhand was cleaning fish, threw scraps overboard. Bloody chum always gets animal spirits going – just ask Bernanke – and excited sharks rose from the depths. But you know, real life attacks ain’t like the movies. Matt fought hi

Spring’s here. No doubt. Just look around. Anything that moves is getting banged. And I’m not talking about India’s missile test, that proves it can bang Beijing. Or shaft Shanghai. Nope. I’m talking about stuff like bunga bunga Berlusconi parties, crawling with dirty little nuns. And US Secret Service agents in Columbia, on their boozy strip search. Bet Silvio wishes he’d known one was 17. And the Agents wished they

Hope all goes well. Snuck down to the water. Early. To watch the storm roll in. And walked along the beach. Alone. As the sea churned. Lifted by a fearsome wind. That wiped the sand clean. And striped trees of dead leaves. Branches too. A dessert storm is rare. Miraculous. Cleansing. Lightning flashed. Thunder rumbled. And as the liquidity poured down, I considered the metaphor. For a brief moment. Then got the F out

The young, pudgy strongman towered over his starving midgets. And directed their gaze to the sky. But one skeptical man refused, and surveyed the scene, at ground level. Counted the costs of a system without checks. And balances. The staggering misallocation of capital that inevitably accompanies rule by the unelected. Indeed, the pudgy strongman’s army had recently lowered minimum height requirements to 4ft 9in R

Forgive me father, for I have sinned. Well, actually, my children have. And on Easter no less. Now, this may sound hypocritical, and yeah, you hate that, but I want to enter the kingdom as a wealthy man. For the life of me though, can’t figure out how to squeeze a camel through the eye of a needle. So I pray if I raise fine kids, you sneak me through the back door. Which brings me to last Sunday. My four angels fough

Hope all goes well. Sunny and seventy one day. Snowy sprinkles the next. Flowers are out. Tattoos too. Yeah, that’s early spring in NY. Of course, time moves quick here. Ain’t even summer, and they’re talking about autumn. Yeah, nearly everyone is antsy. Agitated. They say it’s too late to buy, but too early to sell. So fellas place little bets, on tomorrow’s unpredictable forecast. Trying to keep warm and dry. Bidin

Life. Business. An uncertain future. Man’s potential. Maximizing it. From the day we’re born, till expiration. Yeah, that pretty much covers our conversations. Years ago I explained to my Dad what I do – he’s a rocket scientist, so you see, I’m kind of a disappointment. I tried to make my work sound real complicated, fancy. But he kept asking questions. And arrived at this conclusion, “So you essentially guess betwee

Couldn’t find the right words. To defend his disappointing Presidency. And attack Romney. So he searched the world, for inspiration. Sarajevo celebrated another uneasy anniversary. Remember? 20 years ago, wolves devoured 100,000 lambs in Bosnia Herzegovina. Thousands fled Syria for Turkey (2,300 on Wed alone), as Assad swung his scythe in advance of the UN’s dubious Apr 10th ceasefire. America handed 25yrs to the Mer

Saw the Hunger Games. Read the book too. Weaves four all-time favorites – Brave New World, 1984, Fahrenheit 451 and Lord of the Flies — into a killer tale. Be honest, who doesn’t love the underdog? Abhor the machine? The flick really hit a chord. Just look at those box office records. Hey, you see? China made arrests. Shut sites. State Internet Information Office announced a few rebellious souls had been “admon