Once upon a time

On a dark Wednesday afternoon, two analysts were sitting in boring meetings a few blocks from each other. While their bosses are wheeling and dealing serious dollaz, this is what the analysts are exchanging:

Pretty sure Sven died last night.

Are you serious??

Yes, im very serious.... we should look into a Siberian tiger

Or a dwarf giraffe.

Albino dwarf giraffe

Three legged albino dwarf giraffe

that has a wooden peg, an eye patch and a parrot..... albino parrot

And the parrot can speak, but stutters more than Scatman Joe.



If only they knew...

Holiday schmoliday... it's bonus season!!

That time of year is approaching people, only a few weeks before bonus season kicks off!!!

Falala lala la....laaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa

For those who have never (read: will never) experienced the warm feeling you get during bonus season, think of how comfortable and happy those people in the holiday Old Navy commercials are… then multiply that feeling by 10, and you will get close to how we privileged ones feel once a year. You may feel better knowing that for the rest of the year, the only feeling we have is that of our soul slowly leaving our bodies as we finish editing cell BR784 in our Excel model.

But that’s beyond the point, so let’s focus on Bonus Season…

The trepidation, the excitement of waiting to see how much those all nighters spent working on a model no one ever really used and whether or not those 100 hour weeks were really worth it is almost over. Remember those Christmas mornings as a kid? When you woke up to the familiar smell of cinnamon buns your mom made, put on your new pajamas and anti-slip socks, looked out the window to see how much it snowed last night, and ran downstairs to give mom and dad a big hug because you’re so excited about unwrapping your presents. Well, take that feeling of joy, replace the pajamas with a power suit and the hug to your parents by beers with your boss, and multiply the feeling of joy by 1,000 and you may get close to how we feel about bonus season. Oh sorry, I’m back to making you realize what you’re missing.

This is the moment we wait for all year. There are no birthdays, Easter, or other such occasions to reward us or make us feel good about ourselves. Our bosses never say thank you, they never tell us we do good work – they simply give us more work once we’re done something. Instead, our firms speak with their cheque books once a year (well, actually on a weekly basis but let's focus just on the bonus for now) – and, to be honest, that’s all we really care about. You can’t buy anything with a thank you, but as you’re about to learn, you can buy a lot with a bonus cheque.

Before we get started, let’s make something clear here. You probably have a few friends that work in consulting, or – and I’m really sorry for you if it’s true – you may have lawyer friends that have told you about their bonuses. Please don’t confuse what they are talking about with the kind of bonus season we are talking about here. Lawyers basically get a few bucks, a couple of left over closing dinner bottles of wine, and left over deal toys from the year (I swear if I get another bottle opener from O… or another paperweight from S…. ). We, on the other hand, get fat cheques. We get lots and lots of dallawz, mullah, beaucoup de pognon.

I was trying to figure out how to explain the magnitude of the bonus in terms that the average person will comprehend. Here's what I have to far:

1) Our bonus is so large, that the tax hit is more than what the average Canadian makes in a year - a lot more.

2) In a good year, you and a few of your buddies can buy a small town in Texas with your cheques

3) Our bonuses are so large, our firms can only pay them using those giant game show cheques.

4) With one bonus cheque, you can fill an olympic sized pool with Crystal and have a 2,000 people drink it with huge straws

5) If you combine what we make, we would be a mid-sized country in terms of GDP.

Don't mean to leave people hanging but I'll continue this entry with items #6-10 at some other time.

All I want for Christmas is Everything on this List

Alright Santa,

Let's not beat around the bush. Even my neighbours deaf and blind dog (Yes, this is true; and no, his name isn't Tommy) knows that I haven't been the poster boy for everything that is humane and considered "nice" this year. You may even consider some of the things I've done borderline illegal, or in pure form- illegal. However, these foul acts have been overshadowed by better acts- I've saved and made people- whom I really don't even know- a ton of money in the short 8 months I've been employed at the firm. I'm sure these people have gone on to do very kind things- and in essence- I've helped them, financially, achieve these goals. Therefore, using simple logic, I deserve some special things this quarter.... I mean year.



So without further ado- (or is it adieu? or a due? I'll check into this) The Count's christmas list.


1. World Peace (aside- This is really only to bump the probability of receiving the other things on the list- I mean everyone knows that Santa can't just fucking give away World Peace- what's next? Enron coming back?)

2. A blog entry from T-Billz.
He does exist, I think I've met him once or twice. He must be really busy at work. Busier than the rest of us bucks- which you may or may not believe- is actually quite busy.

3. More airings of MXC and less airings of Dr. Phil, Oprah, The Amazing Race, The Bachelor, actually- If you could create a network that only airs hockey, baseball and football games, MXC, Hell's Kitchen, BNN, and maybe The Hills for B.O.O, 24/7, that'd be feasible. (Aside, I wonder if Bowl knew his acronym is BOO?).

4. A new car

5. Jessica Biel.
If she's unavailable, gimme Britney- I KNOW she's available. Why, you ask? I figure it'll get me that extra bit closer to punching what's his face right in it.

6. Our IT chick, Anna(real name), to get absolutely nothing at all.
Does anybody else get pissed off when these "experts" tell you that it's "harmful" to drag icons onto the desktop, or not shut down your laptop properly? HOW? and who the fuck cares? They get replaced every 6-8 months anyways!

7. Some new gold cufflinks,
I lent my other ones to some investment banker and he never gave them back.


That's pretty much it, my new years resolution is to make more people more money- so if everything goes as planned- I'll be much more selfish (but also much more deserving) next year. Life will be great in 2008. Until then, may your stockings be crisply ironed, and your egg nog considerably strengthened.

Cheers to you and yours,
Merry Xmas,
The 'Count.

Missed Connections

Her skin looked perfect from a far; not a blemish, nor a scar. Stunning brunette hair blowing elegantly in the wind, walking that perfect waist-to-hip ratio of approximately 2:3 down the opposite sidewalk from me – everything is now in slow motion.

I was the finance guy in skinny chinos and brown loafers. She, a Latina living in the fashion district, and I, speechless and overwhelmed, missed by a mere 40 feet. She walked in to a small Bodega [which are both cute and bountiful in this part of town] in all probability to buy fresh fruit and other delicious, yet unsophisticated, items. She had conceivably not been tainted by big city living. And that was the most beautiful part about her.

I pictured us, together, on a Sunday late-autumn afternoon walking our golden retriever through the park, warm cider in hand.

Symmetrical Girl from Kensington Market, how I want to meet you! I want you to come with me to my firm’s Christmas party. I want you to make fun of me, and tell me “I’m coming over” without actually being invited. I want you to enjoy the opulent lifestyle I can provide for you.
Send me an e-mail [I check it often!] and we’ll watch the beautiful sparks fly together when we meet and get along flawlessly.

So You Wanna be a WACC Superstar?

There he was, sitting... waiting... wishing? Probably not. My tardiness was excused following an appropriate introduction and an implied summary of my typical 11 hour day at the firm. (aside: random tip#43- when engaging conversation with someone of prestige, always convey to them how hard of a worker you are, without actually saying it).

Shit, I forgot to mention whom I was meeting and the circumstances of which. A colleague from a downtown finance firm referred me to Mr. Peter Stern (not real name), as he was looking for bright young talent in private/small business assurance. A dinner at a local italian restaurant was arranged and here we are.

I eyed him up and down, quickly noting his exquisite style- gold watch, gold cufflinks, dark blue 3 piece suit, most definately custom-fabriced and tailored, because this guy was much bigger than your typical housecat. My best estimate would be three hundred and fifty three pounds- every single unit of which was undoubtedly eaten by him from expensive meals in the past- I questioned whether or not he was flaunting this and trying to get bigger, or just lazy- I'm thinking the former.

The preliminary portion of our discussion was centered, obviously, around materials. To mention- his mansion in rockcliffe park, his 2 Beamers, a Mercedes, his 1500+ bottle wine cellar with its own computerized catologuing system, his recent trip to Africa in which he took his beau for a sunrise balloon tour of the Serengeti, his daughter who has a PhD in neurological science (whom he didn't comment on appearance, but I'm sure she's a knock out).

With all this talk, in my head, I started to think about Cypress Hill.

So this is what they were talking about? I started to think about what business is really about- materials? Is that it? Is it all about BMWs, Franck Muller watches, Burberry socks, and exotic trips? Do I really put in 12-15 hour days so I can someday own a bunch of shit I don't need and listen to Cypress Hill?

You're goddamned right. And I love every fucking minute.

And Card Roulette season has commenced...

Card Roulette - the ultimate rush, the climax of any meal/soirée. The only time outside of a sporting endeavor (whether you partake in it or you're just watching it) where it's appropriate to go for the double handed high five.

Card Roulette (yes, I always double capitalize Card Roulette - get used to it) takes place when a group of friends go out for a meal or beverages, and it might just be the best thing since Ralph Lauren came out with its Purple Label.

So here's how it goes...

1) A group of unsuspecting buddies are enjoying their meal and beverages, not paying attention to what everyone is getting (except for the token "what are you guys having" friend, but no one pays attention to him anyways) and just having a good time;

2) Upon completion of the feast, the server brings the bill when all of a sudden, and unbeknownst to everyone, one of your idiot buddies yells out "Card Roulette, CARD ROULETTE EVERYONE";

3) Because nobody wants to be the one that didn't play Card Roulette, everyone takes out their Platinum credit card (NOTE: I'm sure there are some non-Platinum holders that play the game when they go to Burger King or something, but that's not the point here) and puts it in some kind of container;

4) Server then picks one card on which the entire bill will be charged;

5) Once the cardholder has been identified, all but one at the table scream of joy and double high five each other, a parade led by a Korean high school marching band emerges from nowhere, and confetti is thrown all over;

6) The "winner" then proceeds to tell all his friends how much he hates them for taking the $95 filet mignon and for ordering that bottle of red no one even touched while he only had the penne and four Bud Lights;

We had a quick game the other over lunch and I'm very happy to say that Young Bucks won the draw. Bomber and I proceeded to high five each other. It was a good one to loose though, only $130.

We will be keeping score using this entry in the comments section.

Let the games begin people.

Revealing the truth

If you live in a vibrant metropolis like Toronto, New York, and even Montreal, you've seen countless young professionals walking around or interacting with other human beings without taking their eyes off their Blackberries. When you - the uninitiated - see these people, you may think that those hot shots are so succesful that they are just too busy to put their beloved handheld communication device in their pocket once in a while to rejoin the 3-D world. You perhaps think that these are powerful people closing billion dollar deals, trading in and out of large positions on the stock market, or negotiating major contracts between oil tycoons and Cuban cigar smugglers. Well, if that's what you think, you are more wrong than Heidi is wrong about staying with Spencer on The Hills. If you don't get how wrong that means you are, please get off this blog.

I've often been mistaken for one of those up and coming business gurus (NOTE: I am not an up and coming business guru, I already am one), so I thought I would provide you, the run of the mill citizen, with a glance into what is really going on inside those Blackberries.

First of all, about 30% of the people you see hammering away at their Blackberry are just playing Brickbreaker, but everyone knows that.

Instead, I thought that I would share representative emails I've received or sent from my Blackberry over the past week (full disclosure here, I did change the names to make sure no one gets fired). Unfortunately, I deleted about 500 emails that my fellow contributors sent last week, but I still found some decent ones. I've color coded them for your convenience.

Enjoy...

Karate Suits= wicked

Patriot suit on Bowl of Oatmeal = great american champion

Karate team at bar = ass kicking machines

Karate team after the bar = no girls

Stella ate two members of S-Unit... And The Hoff is in questionable health, he likes lodging himself in between rocks.

Dude - I'm crashing at your place tonight. Where's the closest fast food joint?

(the next morning) Dude - is there a McD's near your place?

I befriended MH on Facebook. Have you seen those wakesurf pics???? That's pretty insane. She invited me for a drink.....wow, I'm like a school girl! I'm in love.

Dude, what is Jerry's girlfriend name in the episode where he can only remember that her name rimes with vulva? I know he calls her Mulva but what is her real name?

I just looked up who is exactly where in your building and I found the floor right below you is 100% Vacant. Therefore that floor presents itself as an ideal location to take a poop.

The man (some say legend) invented the overhand serve in volleyball, he invented the slam dunk in basketball, he also won an acedemy award for his performance in "Bridge over Madison County".

Alright boys, here is the challange: To make an overweight, average history major sounds like a mature, sophisticated genius looking for a career in Toronto. Lies are acceptable.

Last night 31 year old tried to kiss me. I couldn't do it. Why u ask? Because she cuts her own hair.

Hey I-Banker, why don't you go participate in a syndicate to take a mid-market auto parts manufacturer public and try to skim off a few percentage points in fees. If you don't screw it up, they may let you co-lead their junk bond issue next time they need to fix one of their lines.

So there you have it - no one is SO important that they must be on their Blackberries at all times. But everyone has enough dumb friends to stay busy exchanging random thoughts and comments all day.

- Keeping them honest since 2006

A list of randomnities

So I may have had one or two cocktails too many last night (read 10 cocktails too many), and now I'm sitting here trying to get some work done but my brain is simply unable to compute the large amount of data I have in front of me. After spending some time on the best time waster ever, I decided to compile some anecdotes, facts, and thoughts I've come across over the past few days.

1) T-Billz and I were on our way back from Cottageville (where the cocktail indulging took place) in our gold rented Chevy Cobalt listening to Big Girls Don't Cry when we decided that we should try to find a place to buy new fishes (fishi for the real enthusiast) for our aquarium. After getting lost and ending up at some distribution center in Nowhere, Ontario, (dumb and dummer here were too busy on their Blackberries to pay attention to where they were going) we found the place and got down to business: selecting fishi that will impress girls when they come to our place. Let's be honest, that's the only reason we got the aquarium. After 45 of the most unpleasant minutes ever - spent in a dark, humid store with 40 year olds who still live with their parents so they can afford to splurge on their fish tanks surrounding our impatient and hungover selves - we finally paid for our new friends and we soon realized that the amount of money we've put into the aquarium is getting a little out of hand. I later realized that we could have sponsored about 10 African children for an entire year with the money we've put in over the past 4 months. That made me feel bad. But then I remembered that I donated a camel, a goat, AND a chicken to three families through an awesome program a few months ago. I don't feel bad about the aquarium anymore, and unless you've donated a camel in the past 12 months, you can't judge us, so F-off.

2) Been off coffee for about three weeks now. My stomach no longer feels like the ozone layer in the '90s and I've regained the sense of taste. I like it. How do I keep the energy up through endless hours and the office? I keep a few boxes of Fig Newtons at my desk at all times and go for two of those bad boys every hour all day. They are great while you're on conference calls because they are soft cookies so no one can hear what you're doing. BTW - I don't like the new boxes with the sticky resealable tab because you need two hands to get the cookies out. I would really rather be able to keep plugging away at my Excel model AND grab the cookies at the same time. NOTE TO SELF: draft and send a stern worded business letter to Nabisco to express my discontent with the new packaging.

3) The Bomber had a phenomenal idea a few months ago, and I'm pretty sure we are going to pursue it. He suggested that we should get a group of five guys (girls are allowed, but they are usually smart enough not to get involved in stupid ventures like this) and purchase a race horse that we would enter at Woodbine. We will now be accepting name suggestions for the horse. I personally like Leaping Dragon.

4) Good idea for a website. Hide a camera in a bunch of hot girls' hair and film what they see when they go out to clubs. The website: www.watchidiotsuselinesfromthegametohitonbabe.com

5) Fergie's Big Girls Don't Cry is the most soothing song when hungover. Close second: I Saw the sign by Ace of Base.

6) On Oct. 11, 2007, newly re-elected Ontario Premier proclaimed the third Monday of February to be Ontario Family Day. On October 22, 2007, the Young Bucks contributors proclaimed the second Friday & Saturday and the third Monday of February to be We're Going to Vegas long weekend.

7) Gargle rhymes with apple. No arguments here.

8) When using the expression "until the cows come home", people are referring to Oct. 23, 2011

9) It's perfectly normal for roommates to play with remote control cars together. Stop judging us and deal with it.

10) Don't get the soft tacos or the fish 'n chips at the Loose Moose. Thanks to Carter's magic tricks, we received proprietary information about the menu from two young and easily impressed waitresses.

That's it for now, back to work...

Wednesday Morning

Buzz is told at 8:05am on wednesday morning he has to make a "power point" presentaion for the following day.
Buzz send presentation to boss at 11:45 pm on Tuesday night.
Presentation is at 10:00am Wednesday morning.
Boss replys to email at 12:10am telling Buzz to come in "early" so we can go over it together.
Buzz arrives at 7:15am Wednesday morning. Ready to work. Bold Venti in hand.
Buzz arrives before boss
Buzz waits.
Fast forward to 9:00 am.
Boss arrives in a Heap.
Boss calls Buzz over to desk and opens the presentaion (for the first time).
Boss starts going through presentation. Likes what he sees.
Boss gets to the section of the charts.
Looks at first chart and pauses. Doesn’t know if he likes what he sees.
Repeats this look for the second chart.
Boss gets to the third chart.
Boss speaks with authority and vigor "TELL ME, DO YOU LIKE THE WAY THIS GRAPH LOOKS? DOES THIS GRAPH LOOK GOOD TO YOU? ARE YOU PROUD OF THIS GRAPH?"
Buzz "I can clean them up, I will get on it"
Boss "Alright you have 20 minutes before we have to get them printed"
Buzz "ok"
9:30 am Buzz sends presentaion with cleaned up graphs.
Buzz calls and asks if Boss got presentaion.
Boss reply's "yes" hangs up
9:45 am Buzz puts jacket on, ready to go to meeting.
9:50 Buzz asks which meeting room meeting is in.
Boss "You don't need to come"
10:15am Buzz is mad. Going to smoke and get a Grande Bold

A random walk down Bay St

If you didn't get that reference, you clearly are not a finance person and you are here to learn - and that's ok.


I thought I would kick this off by sharing an email I sent my fellow blogers a while ago...

______________________________
So I have not worked out in a very long time and as I think you know, my calves still hurt from having to walk up the stairs when the elevators were out of service on Sunday. This morning was particularly shitty - wind, rain, blablabla. So I am walking on Bay street, minding my own business, when a sudden gust of wind rips my umbrella out of my hands and sends it flying across the middle of the street. Now, I would have normally let it go and just bought another one (to save myself from the embarrassment of running after an umbrella in downtown Toronto – how fruity is that- but perhaps more importantly, because just the idea of running made my calves and I VERY uncomfortable).

However, the sight of my $250 Burberry umbrella flying through the streets was ugly enough to make me run. So I start sprinting after my luxury item, cutting through cars and never loosing focus of the goal. However, as I was running, I realized I had just slammed my $425 Hugo Boss shoes in a large puddle of water and that the slash had compromised the integrity of my $275 pair of maroon Zegna trousers (flat front, straight leg, just wonderful) Even my $55 pair of cashmere-blend socks was soaked!!! But even worse, my $1000 Hugo Boss jacket had been in contact with not one, but two homeless people who were trying to help me (evidently hoping that they would get some form of compensation for their efforts) As I dodged a speeding cab (think mid-air lunge with a half-back hyperextension) I came to realize that the umbrella was not worth it. I stopped running, looked around only to realize everyone was staring at me, and did what any self-respecting man would do: I pulled out my Blackberry, and threw it on one of the homeless guys that tried to help. what a morning.
___________________________

That's it for now. Oh - and please note that no one was hurt in the making of this story.

You wanted a rap, boy?

I'm a VC,
BTW, there's a reason why it rhymes with money
Always looking to buy a big piece of a small company
I know what you're thinking... what about liquidity?

Well if you can't take it, maybe you should go back to bed
mmmmmm that's what she said
Finding the deals that make the bankers beg
Just realized it's been weeks since I've had an egg

Keep waking up spooning my Blackberry
You know it's not a good sign what an email makes you horny (what?)
But whatez, at least I'm not stuck structuring a muni
Everybody knows buy side is the place to be

Remember to stay tuned for stories of a young VC
Alrights that's enough, back to that spreadsheet for the Series B