ahhh swear to gawd bruffa, dis a great jop.

Now I don't profess to be an expert on the subject, but the market belched me up some ambergris this week. I find much of my self worth revolves around making the right decisions, as I geuss it does everyones.
Last Thursday some bank shares that I had bought for $16.00 had an attack of the frenzies and despite the woes of the world lurched themselves upwards to $18.70 where upon I sold them....not all of them mind, I'm not that clever. They then fell out of bed and dropped back to $15.30 whereupon I bought them back again....the minute the money had left my bank account they dropped again to $14.95...I know, I know...it's a conspiracy, but there you have it...and there had I, $2600 of profit. I then also discovered that the exact same bank pays you 3.5% interest if you lend them your money, from which the government then takes 33%in in tax...believing as they do that if you earn interest then it is unearned money and they deserve a third of it. However, if you buy shares in the bank, then they pay you a 10% dividend, and they also pay the tax on it. Why am I telling you this...well it's simple...only two lost souls read my blog last week,...and they could have just accidently tripped the counter in their rush to get somewhere else... and the week before that, nobody....so the cat is hardly going to be let out of the bag anytime soon. It also goes to show that if you own the bank, you are a bloody sight more important than if you are a customer....oh, you and the rest of the world already knew that huh?
Two weeks ago I bought some cattle, mangy looking things they were, all forlorn, dapple bedraggled and covered in shit from being on the bottom of the truck on a long haul. I paid $187.50 each for them. Bought them home, washed them down, dried them off, gave them a drink and a decent feed, cleaned up the spare room, cos the neighbours were complaining about the lowing... and took them back to whence I had bought them, they fetched $300. I tell you it beats the bejesus outta working....the moral?...if you look and feel like shit, then they are going to put you on the lower deck of the truck, thereby making it a self fulfilling prophecy.
The P.A. left last week, no explanation...just left...half the world is off to hell in a handbasket, and P.A couldn't cope with whatever attack of the vapours had come visit her. There was prolly a time when I would have bought into whatever it was that was ailing her...taken her burden, and staggered around with it like an imbicile...those days have mercifully gone.
The Tongan however, now has half of Tonga working for me (or him...I'm not quite sure which), and a few of the outlying islands as well...there are women sitting under trees, children running everywhere, men in big hats...it's like a pentecostal revival meeting out there. How the work gets done is not my concern...that they are happy and doing it in their own way is fine by me...and it just proves you don't have be able to say "three thirty" to get ahead in this world.