Monday, May 31, 2004

Cracked the safe

The beach is a popular place to be for Memorial Day weekend, of course. And though I don't care to create a blog solely about Cliff, I must admit he does provide a great deal of material. You see, Cliff was very excited going into this weekend. Not because he's a swinger...oh, did I mention that?...but also because of the standard stripper/booze/white trash friends party he will have at his beach house. His wife, for unimaginable reasons, doesn't care to party with him. Maybe it's the lipstick ring around his dick. Back to my point, Cliff was so excited about this weekend for one reason: he bought a safe. A real safe, the kind with a combination that's fire proof. Well, hell yeah!! Where else does a high paid broker store his drugs to keep them safe from his hoodlum children? I'm not sure which is worse, the fact that Cliff secures the financial future of over 300 people...or that he has offspring.

It's only Monday night. I'll find out tomorrow if Cliff's safe kept his weed and whatever else safe throughout the weekend while he was at the beach. By the way, have you ever seen a Texas stripper? Think Anna Nicole... It's all about the money, honey. If you ain't got it, she doesn't see you. Cliff isn't just good at making money, he's good at keeping it. If he befriends a stripper...she's his very own naked friend for free.

Thursday, May 27, 2004

High in many ways

Don't let the term "high finance" fool you. The only thing high are the brokers themselves. There's this one broker in my branch who brags about his stripper friends and pot collection. Want to know who is managing your money? Well if you're not worth several million, this is probably the guy. His name is Cliff, a pseudonym of course. Cliff has two goals in life: to get laid, and to avoid work. Both of which he does on company time. He slips in just before noon and slips out just before the close of market. Don't worry, it's mutual. We can handle about as much of Cliff as he can handle of us. Tuesdays are All-You-Can-Eat day at the tiddy bar down the street. For $5.95 and not a dime more Cliff and sometimes several of the others get a belly full while getting an eye full. He doesn't drink, the saint that he is, but his head is frequently in the clouds as he drifts by, the stench of weed wafting in behind him. Oddly enough, I enjoy talking to him at times. His stories are always so nasty sometimes I feel like I should be wearing a condom just to listen. I've stored many of them in the back of my head, after sanitizing them to protect my brain cells from exposure, of course. Stick around. I'll tell you about his visit to a stripper's trailer park and the shoot out that ensued.