Associated Press

Damn you, Castro, for pulling my heart to pieces. On the one hand, I despise you for being a Commy bastard who associates with softy freedom-haters like Alan Greenspan. But on the other hand, I just can’t bring myself to disrespect you.

After all, Fidel, aren’t we similar, in a way? Two men of great power and uncouth braggadocio. I, the “smartest guy in the room,” you the iron-fisted president of a Latin American nation. I, a patron of Banana Republic, you the revolutionary dictator of the real thing.

The talk of the prison yard today was the trial of the Microwave Mom. As the story goes, China Arnold of Dayton, Ohio got wasted on 151 and placed her infant, Paris, on “Popcorn.”

China destroying Paris with mass-manufactured kitchen appliances? I couldn’t stop laughing at the irony of the globalization overtones, until Meat Hook and Queer Bubba prodded my jugular with the corner of a Koran.

Associated Press

Oil is trading at $100 a barrel. Soon, households will max out their savings to heat their homes, truckers will have to take pay cuts just to keep their jobs, and soccer moms will be sucking dick for unleaded regular.

Brilliant!

While in jail I don’t have any contact with my former energy traders, I’m convinced that they are right now executing a top-secret scheme we devised just before the Enron collapse: Operation Jar Jar Binks.

Much like the now-famous price-gouging we did in Operation Death Star, Jar Jar Binks is a way to exploit (in corporate terminology, we say “employ”) feeble and inept old farts (“the Golden Generation”) to further our capitalist dogma of greed (“to foster favorable business conditions”).

• Operation Jar Jar Binks phase 1, “Nature’s Bounty”: Dynamite thousands of tons of Arctic glacier, ship to United States.
• Phase 2, “The Big Chill”: Pile ice down chimneys, in windows and under doors of elderly widows and untended geezers.

Bess in a purple gown at the Waseca Federal Correctional Institution’s Holiday Bash ’07.

Like a good mullet, DealBreaker.com is business in the front, party in the back. Normally, their writers toil over CEO exposés and M&A S&M. But recently, they’ve announced that in order to get the inside scoop on Wall Street holiday parties, they will be sending sumptuous seductress Bess Levin to as many of them as possible.

Bess, if you’re reading this, I cordially beg you to attend the Waseca Federal Correctional Institution’s Holiday Bash ’07.

This is gonna be one for the history books, Bess. Guillermo in cell block H made the punch by fermenting protein shakes in the toilet … if you close your eyes and don’t mind the chewy bits, it tastes JUST like eggnog. Petey, my cellmate DaiShawn’s bitch, made us these adorable Santa hats from old uniforms and pillow down.

Congratulations, Merrill Lynch, on your selection of John Thain as CEO. You are now officially the largest aggregation of douches on the planet.

Unfortunately, Thain and I have quite a history together. He grew up in Antioch, Illinois, about two hours away from my hometown of Aurora. Boy, did we cream those Bible thumpers every single time in football.

Fast forward 10 years. Thanks to alphabetical seating, ole plain Thain ended up sitting next to me at Harvard Business School matriculation. As I found my seat, I looked over at this skinny punk with his comb-over, bifocals, and an eerie pallor straight out of a lupus ward. And I decided right then and there to make the next two years a living hell for John Thain.

First, DealBreaker was banned from the library computers in my cell block at Waseca Federal Penitentiary. Now, it has been banned from Bear Stearns computers. I just have one message for these Orwellian, Alduous Huxley-an, Judge Dredd-ian pricks: technology is a force that cannot be stopped, despite your heinous, unconstitutional, big-government attempts of censorship.

When I tried to explain this to my prison guards, they were angered by the big words, so I got 72 hours in solitary and the rope taken out of my soap. As I was being tranquilized, I tried to explain I was just looking for a fresh, wry perspective on business news, but they were convinced that DealBreaker sounded like an online forum for inter-prison methamphetamine exchange.

Today is the first day of Movember, a worldwide charity event where men grow mustaches to raise money for prostate cancer. Corporate goodwill like this makes me take a deep breath and say…WHAT KIND OF ESSENTIAL CAPITAL SPENDING ARE YOU FOREGOING FOR THIS CHARITY BULLSHIT???

DealBreaker.com — my favorite website during “sneak onto the guards’ computer and enjoy three minutes of escapism before you are punished with the hose” — notes that many of the top-brass on Wall Street seem to have missed the memo about the holiday.

In this week’s edition of “It Sucks to Be You, But Not as Much as It Sucks to Be Me,” math teacher-turned-billionaire money manager Jeffery Epstein’s legal problems keep getting worse. Masseuses who turn out to be prostitutes who turn out to be underage girls who turn out to be transsexual men…BORING!!! Just another example of the American MEDIA lambasting a financial GENIUS because they can’t wrap their Marxist Cheech and Chong rhetorical snoot around the complicated world of equity trading.

I mean, Epstein didn’t even have SEX with the woman/girl/man. He is accused of getting a massage, and then happily ending himself while she/he blew kisses at him. Ha! In my jail cell, that’s how we pass the Tuesday afternoons. Except I always have to play masseuse, and DeMarcus always gets to play Jeffrey Epstein.

Associated Press

Of course this is all a rumor! Buffett on The Street? I hear the guy still lives in a split-level ranch in Omaha. That’s where corn farmers go to get away from the hustle-bustle of Des Moines. A bumpkin like him isn’t worthy of spit shining an I-banker’s white shoes.