Saturday, March 14, 2009

Nurse the Hate: AIG Bonus Money




If anyone wants to get up an angry mob to string up the AIG executives that are getting paid out from this $165 million bonus pool, count me in. Let me get this straight. The taxpayers (i.e. You and Me) own 80% of AIG. We had to bail out the company because they fucked up so bad. Now, after that complete collapse of the company, their management is being paid bonuses of up to $6.5 million per person. I don't know how your job works, but I don't get $6 million bucks for fucking up so bad that I almost destroy the world economy. Shit, I get reamed out for not turning in my TPS Report, and no one even reads that. If I destroyed the wealth of the United States of America, I wouldn't be walking around wondering "Where the fuck is my bonus? I kicked some ass this year!".

The basic argument from the AIG side is that they wrote those contracts a year ago, and if they don't pay up, they'll lose their employees. "We cannot attract and retain the best and the brightest talent to lead and staff the A.I.G. businesses — which are now being operated principally on behalf of American taxpayers — if employees believe their compensation is subject to continued and arbitrary adjustment by the U.S. Treasury." Oh. OK. I mean, we sure wouldn't want to lose all those guys that were running the company when it went broke, and needed Billions of dollars just to not take the entire world economy with it. That's a real Dream Team we've assembled over there. Let's open up the old checkbook and make sure those guys are happy.

Fuck those guys. Don't pay them, and let them sue. These people should be apologizing endlessly about what they did. They ran AIG into the ground and left it with nothing. They lost their money. This is our money. That means we're the boss. I say we don't pay and get some new qualified people in there. God knows there's plenty of people in finance that are looking for work. Look, the real problem is that these scum bags have no shame and no fear. Bonus? What the fuck are you talking about? You drove the company out of business! Any reasonable Frankenstein style lynch mob knows how to handle this. I would say things like "There he is! Get him!" while holding a torch or pitchfork. Old school tar and feathers might make sense. Let's quit screwing around with these people. Legal action to try and get $6 million bucks from a bankrupt company isn't happening when you are busy running for the hills with poop in your pants.

Call me when that tar starts bubbling.

Quick Note: A guy like myself will seek entertainment anywhere he can find it trapped here in Cleveland in March. Hence, there I was sitting in the Quicken Loans Arena watching MAC Conference basketball, heavily leveraged on some mediocre team like Bowling Green or Ball State. In years past, I would have been crushed on overpriced 20 oz draft beers screaming obscenities at little kids participating in on court contests during timeouts, but this year I played it cool. However, the one thing that this relative clarity provided was an unclouded view of the various MAC school "dance teams".

My basic understanding of a Dance Team is this: Girls not able to participate as cheerleaders but still interested in being part of the pomp of intercollegiate men's basketball on court activity become members of the Dance Team. From what I witnessed, these are pasty white girls aged 19-22 attempting to dance like rap/R&B video extras to current dance music while dressed in tight fitting clothes in the school colors. I would assume that these are physically active young women in the prime of their lives dedicating multiple hours honing their moves. Quick question? Why are so many of them so fucking fat?

I'll tell you this...If I was a 21 year old girl in skin tight shiny pants and belly shirt, I wouldn't want to walk out in front of 8000 semi drunk men if I had a muffin top going. I would hit the treadmill, cut out the chicken wings, and get toned up. And before any of you pile on with "ohhhhh...C'mon on! They're just kids having fun!" crap, let's be realistic about this. It's not like they were pulled from their dorm rooms at gunpoint and forced into these outfits. They signed up for this. Bring on the tight bodies and cut down on the chips sister.

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