Tuesday, March 31, 2009

Latest Monologue

david lettermanAired Monday night on CBS: I have an announcement to make. This is my last night. The White House has asked me to step down.

This is crazy. The CEO at General Motors, Rick Wagoner, been there for like 30 years, but President Obama says, “You’re done, pal. Take a seat.” Bounced the guy right out of the job. He’ll be replaced now by Jimmy Fallon.

Right after the announcement, Wagoner hopped on his private jet and flew to the unemployment office.

Now here’s a story. A guy in Brazil goes spear fishing, and he accidentally gets shot in his own head with the spear. Well, they operate on the guy. He’s unconscious. They pull the spear out and he’s going to be fine. And you know the first thing he said when he came to was, “Well, that’s the last time I go spear fishing with Dick Cheney.”

Saturday, March 14, 2009

Late Night

david lettermanMonologue | Aired Thursday night on CBS: I got kind of a moral dilemma here. Do you think, and be honest about this, do you think it’s too soon for me to hit on Bernie Madoff’s wife?

Bernie and his wife Ruth want to keep $69 million. They said that’s not money they swindled. That’s just money they had laying around. That’s money they saved by switching to Geico.

People are now saying that the recession we’re in turning perhaps to a depression is not as bad as the one they went through in 1929. So what we’re going through now, not as bad as 1929. And I said hey, come on, give us a chance. We can make it worse.
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Saturday, March 7, 2009

COLUMN: Who Would Watch That Kind of Stuff?

By Tobin Barnes
I know I’m a bit behind the discussion curve, but how about all that buzz concerning the TV show “The Bachelor” last week?

What a tempest in a teapot.

All the problems this country is going through and the bachelor’s botched choice ends up being the center of attention.

Ridiculous.

As you’ve probably guessed, I’m not the type of guy to watch a silly show like that. Sophisticated as I am, my taste goes more toward high-brow entertainment of an edifying nature, not low-brow claptrap like “The Bachelor,” or even “The Bachelorette,” for that matter.

If I ever knew anything at all about that gasbag phenomenon, it would be perhaps because I had passed over the channel in search of educational matter.

Or if I’d ever picked up any knowledge of who was who on the show, it would be because my wife was watching it while I was perusing some lines of Shakespeare from the nearby bookcase.

Or if I currently think Jason Mesnick is a big, honking jerk for proposing to Melissa Rycroft and then dumping her on national TV, it’s because my wife was so obsessed with the show that she physically forced me to watch it whether I liked it or not.

That would be the only reason.

Why would I watch a show where one enormously lucky guy gets to hug and kiss and choose his way through twenty-five pretty-darned-good-looking women who think he’s the best catch since Rudolph Valentino.

And do those women really think that in the first place?

Or is it this? They just don’t want to be unceremoniously booted off the show (not get a rose, is it?) in front of national TV. To avoid this humiliation, the contestants—for that’s what they are—gush and fawn over and flatter this poor guy until he thinks he’s the last best hope for masculinity.

Who among us males would want to be put in this situation, let alone watch it on TV? And who among us would want to end up with a final choice of three impossibly Chicklety-white-toothed babes who, one-by-one, are more than willing to give up their separate rooms for the night to share a romantic suite with you?

And what’s going on there with that other than what I think’s going on there?

But here’s what I’d really like to know: Where were all these intensely desperate women when I was in the game? All I ever ran into were the “I-think-I-could-do-better than-you” types. There were virtual legions of them.

Heck, my prospects never came twenty-five at a time. At best, it was only one girl at a time, and there might be months, if not years, in between those.

I had to find my wife the old fashioned way: I begged her sister’s husband to set me up with her. The direct approach would have gotten me shot down at the get-go.

And then did I take her for a first date on some exotic helicopter ride through the mountains of New Zealand?

Nope. I took her to a third-rate flick at the Roxy and then for a beer or two at a peanut bar. Had her home by eleven.

So as you can see, I don’t know much about “The Bachelor.”

I’m not the kind of guy who watches piffle like that.

Just thought I had to put in my two-cents worth is all.

Let's Play a Round of Golf Quiz

Click the link:
http://www.cincinnati.com/golf/golfquiz/html/brand.htm
(Sent by Roy Wilson)

Pumpcast News

Stewart vs. CNBC

A good roast of the "experts."

Sunday, March 1, 2009

COLUMN: You Broke It, You Pay

By Tobin Barnes
At first glance, you’re going to think I’m nuts, but please, withhold your scorn until I’ve explained. Here’s my proposal:

We need a new tax.

Easy! Settle down and hear me out.

It’s what I call the I-Screwed-Up-the-Nation Tax.

I’ll let the bureaucrats decide a better name later. They’re good at that.

For example, it’s tough to beat their acronym T.A.R.P. for the $700 billion bank bailout program. Few know that the name comes from some Latin words that roughly mean “The bank system ruined our lives so let’s throw a tarp over it.”

That’s a good one. But for now, I’m sticking with I-Screwed-Up-the-Nation Tax as the name of my proposal. That’s right, some people screwed up the nation, if not the world, if not for years, in their selfish quest for bigger and bigger bonuses and commissions.

In many cases, hundreds of thousands of dollars of yearly income that could buy McMansions wasn’t enough for these people. Nay, millions of dollars that could buy planes and Jaguars and family compounds wasn’t even enough. Nay, tens of millions of dollars that could buy islands wasn’t even enough. Nay, hundreds of millions that could endow families in leisure for generations wasn’t even enough.

These people wanted more. So they took advantage of a regulatory system that was asleep at the switch and peddled mortgage packages that doomed millions of victims and thereby the nation to failure.

It doesn’t take 20-20 hindsight. It was a pyramid scheme based on adjustable-rate mortgages that any reasonable businessman knew was bound to come tumbling down when the bubble eventually and predictably burst. It was a predatory system, and, strangely enough, some wags blame the prey for the mess it’s made of our economy. But who, other than those living as hermits in caves, doesn’t dream, doesn’t aspire? All those not guilty, cast the first stone.

No, I blame the predators who knew they were wheeling and dealing loans that were bound to fail, all for the bigger commissions, all for the bigger bonuses. And how about the predatory financial wizards who packaged these loans into securities they knew were bound to go bust with the first hiccup in the economy.

Didn’t seem to bother them a bit. They got their cash up front and they’ve probably still got it. Everybody else is holding an empty bag, but their bag’s still obscenely chubby. And they’re still in the leadership positions and jobs they were in before.
They screwed up the nation (if not the world, if not for years), and there have been no consequences for them.

And who are “they”?

They’re the people at the top who didn’t realize these schemes were saturating their business plans despite their hundred-million dollar salaries (it seems that the more you make nowadays, the less you have to know about what’s going on). And “they” are also the people at the bottom who coaxed unqualified lenders into financing and refinancing mortgages they could never repay.

But the bottom “they” were only following company directives pushed on them by the higher ups, right? Yeah, but “they” had to know what they were doing just like the “theys” on the top. The culpability is widespread.

Now, some commentators would like to see a lot of these shysters, especially the top ones, in jail for what they did to the economy. Maybe, maybe not.

Me? I’d rather just see them cough up their ill-gotten gains by paying their fair share of the new I-Screwed-Up-the-Nation Tax.