Monday, September 22, 2008
You do all the bailing; I get all the hay.
Somebody call Paulson and Bernanke. Tell them I got deal I want to make: I grab a flight to Vegas and spend an indeterminate period of time gambling, drugging, drinking, fighting, and whoring. When I finally crash, they step in to cover my debts plus pay me back all the dough I pissed away. They see to it that everybody but me deals with the consequences of any STDs, paternity suits, felony charges and brain or liver damage I may suffer as a result of my crazed and self-indulgent spree. But if I win any money, I keep it.