Monday, October 19, 1987

Shit on a Fucking Pancake.

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I'm not having a good day

Friday, October 16, 1987

Stock Market, Here I Come!

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After a long talk with my accountant today, I've come to realize that perhaps my long-standing fear of the stock market is hurting my long-term financial prospects.

Yes, fellow Math Skeptics - we all know that the stock exchange is just a veritable Sodom and Gomorrah of numbers, all gathered together and engaging in a disgusting, hideous orgy of calculation. Until today, I would never have even dreamed of subjecting my buried boxes of cash to such fiduciary hedonism.

But my accountant made some good points. Historically, he said, the market outperforms any other form of investment. Plus, you can diversify your portfolio, putting your life savings into many different companies in promising industries. I'm talking safe bets here, like Pan Am Airlines, or Commodore Business Machines, or Drexel Burnham - people are always going to need air travel, computers, and financial services, right?

So I did it. I got a broker, dug up those tin boxes, and put it all in the market. Every last penny.

Don't worry, I'm still just as skeptical as always. Once a Math Skeptic, always a Math Skeptic. But sometimes, even a Skeptic has to take care of his financial future.