bizarreville

Executives from Goldman Sachs were on Capitol Hill today, answering questions to a Senate subcommittee probing the events leading to the charge of fraudulent behavior during the recent financial crisis.  In particular, Goldman had allegedly loaded up on hedge funds shorting the housing market, while peddling clients mortgage backed securities containing toxic mortgage loans.  Lloyd Blankmind, CEO of the firm, was thoroughly grilled by the Senators for selling securities to unsuspecting customers that were “shitty”.  But Mr. Blankmind denied any wrongdoing saying that Goldman deals in shitty deals all the time, some much shittier than others, and some deals that are so shitty that flies won’t go near it.  He explained that’s what being an investment house is all about…sweet deals, and deals that are pure crap.  “If you want something in between, either go to your local First Bumf#*k  Bank or stuff your cash inside the mattress.  If you are a gutless cheeseball, we don’t want to do business with you here.  Off you go.  Sayonara.  Have a nice day.”

Several other Goldman executives were questioned, including trader Fabreeze Doorag who stated he had done nothing wrong whatsoever.  But when Senators asked whether he would take his own hard-earned money and put it into one of Goldman’s flaky investment portfolios, he said hell no.  He started laughing uncontrollably, then started coughing and choking, and had to be ushered out of the Committee room.  It appeared he may have peed his pants.

The Senate committeemembers were stunned by this arrogant attitude, and finally called Mr. Blankmind back to the microphone with hopes of an apology or at least explanation of the rude, disrespectful behavior of his people.  But, unfortunately, the green chile jalapeno taco salad Blankmind had wolfed down for lunch kicked-in as he approached the microphone, and moments later the hazmat squad donning Scott air-packs was in the chamber fumigating the place.  One beligerent senator tried to stick it out, refusing to leave the room until he got a response from Blankmind.  But he was eventually overcome, and had to be carried out by two colleagues.

The committee had originally planned to reconvene with more in-depth questioning tomorrow, but toxicologists warned members to stay out of the room for at least 48 hours, or until the litmus paper test no longer turns brown.

Disclaimer:  All stories in Bizarreville are fiction, even ones that you’d swear are true.

The Cox family, you know, the family that owns that big piece of land on the South end of Bizarreville…yeah, the family that has all those beat-up single-wides parked every which way in the clearings in the woods…Anyway, rumor is they’ve been buying Gold lately.  Not sure where they got the money for it…rumor is that Earl Cox, the one they call E-Cox, started up some kind of business renting-out farm animals.

His key financial advisor, who also happens to be his cousin Fred, the one they call F-Cox, said now is the time to load-up on Gold.  Said that in spite of the fact that it’s skyrocketed to $1000 lately, it could go as high as $10 thousand by this time next year, maybe higher.  “Just look at all these guys pitching gold in various advertisements, a veritable cavalcade of Gold hawkers.  They’re some of the most respected people on radio and TV…you gotta believe that gold will continue to rise…you gotta be able to trust them, right?”

Old Grampaw Cox, now irreverently referred to as G-Cox, was much more skeptical.  He remembered the last time gold shot up in price about 30 years ago.  G-Cox liquidated all his assets…which at the time was a rusted-out camper, 2 shotguns, and a paisley couch missing one leg… and bought Gold.  Soon after, the gold price plummeted, and he was broke…lived in a tent for about 5 years.  He still owns that tent…let’s the grandkids play in it when they visit.  But the kids say it smells pretty bad…say it smells like feet.

The Cox clan says that it’s different this time, versus 30 years ago.  But Grampaw thinks it’s deja vu, like some old rerun of “Father Knows Best”…it was bad then, even worse now.  He advises:  You want a good investment?  Buy good whiskey.  Of course, none of the Cox family drinks whiskey since their Conversion…….now it’s strictly tequilla.

E-Cox put aside his dream of upgrading to that shiny new double-wide, with the 2-sink restroom and the shag-carpetted kitchen.  He sold-off his closet full of ammo…well, not all of it, but a lot of it…and bought some kruggerands.   E-Cox stuck ’em in a mason jar, and buried his new stash behind a tall walnut tree out back.  Family members were worried that E would eventully forget where he buried the jar, so they insisted he write it down on a piece of paper.  He did that, but lost the paper…probably throwing it out when he was cleaning fish.

E-Cox is certain he will be rich when the impending financial collapse happens, and can then join the ranks of the hoi polloi, milling around at stuff-shirt parties, and eating pass-around hors d’oevres like barbeque buffalo meatballs on a toothpick and black fish stuff on Ritz crackers.  He said he might even buy a sport coat with one of those hankies in the pocket, “so much more convenient than having to root around for Kleenex when you really need to clean out the old sinuses.”