Stock Market Takes a Major Shit

he stock market took a major shit Monday, with big-shot tycoons throwing their concubines out skyscraper windows and countless pairs of silk boxers being clenched in nervous buttocks at the close of trading. Hundreds of snotty assholes lost a bundle and had to be chauffeured home to cry themselves to sleep on their pillows sewn with golden thread.

Day traders could be heard pissing and moaning loudly up and down Wall Street all day, and the world’s tiniest violin played just for them as little orphaned children brought them steaming cups of hot chicken noodle soup.

The NASDAQ closed down 53.17 points, at its lowest close since the last time those mama’s boys took it on the chin and their counterparts, the man-dressing woman traders, were kicked in the cock-socket.

Trading volume was so-so, with stuffed shirts milling around restlessly all day, slapping each other’s asses and trying to get a rally started to save their precious timeshares in the Hamptons.

After an ass-dragging start, stock prices got a momentary boost from data released early Monday that showed a great sale going on at a nearby Mercedes-Benz dealership, exciting the day traders and convincing them that this was their lucky day and they should buy anything that smelled like a stock.

But the early rally crapped out by lunchtime when traders received a dispiriting report of dour financial news, casting a shadow over the market. Tyco International Chief Executive L. Dennis Kozlowski announced that he had a paper cut, and everybody stopped trading for at least a half an hour while they made wincing faces and told stories of other times when they’d had paper cuts. It was announced that John Fort, Tyco’s CEO from 1982 to 1992, will take control of the whole shebang until Kozlowski gets out of the hospital.

Tyco’s stock price plunged while everyone was farting around and getting donuts or whatever, and other stocks began to plummet as traders who hadn’t been paying attention began a selling frenzy to make it look like they were on top of the ball. Overall stocks slumped 26.9 percent in the next hour until the heads of two investment firms got into a heated argument over whose turn it was with the remote and if it was okay to watch the 1985 Oliver Stone film Wall Street on the Big Board.

Kent Engelke, markets strategist at Burntwhistle & Limey, said the strong sell-off was due to confusion among traders about data on the nation’s economic recovery. That afternoon’s agricultural report sparked arguments over whether peanuts grow on bushes or on trees, and data from the manufacturing sector confused traders who assumed that toasters were made in the back of the toaster store. Traders also could not agree on what Mexican money was called, if it was pesos or guapos, he added.

“We were hit with some big shocks today, that’s for sure. Like, did you know they have people working in factories nowadays? Actually putting together toys and cars and what have you. It’s not all robots like you’d think. Talk about some poor bastards,� Engelke said after having the silver spoon slapped out of his mouth.

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OH MY GOD SNOW

Boris is here to tell about lunch.

For lunch, Boris having sandwich of pickles, bologna, creamcheese, olives, cabbage and Russian bologna. Louis say Russian bologna make you grow tits out of asscrack, but that is just Louis charming way of speak. Russian bologna is very good and very bologna. Makes you grow up big and brave, like monster. So good for you it is hard to find in stores, because stores want to keep all of it for themself.

Boris is eating sandwich for lunch while playing with his new thing, which is binogulars. Ever since Boris get these, is fun. Looking out window is like funny television with no sounds. There is exciting show about fighting neighbors out one window, Boris watch this show when bored. Is funny show about old man eating soup out other window, always same and always funny when he is dropping soup and is old. But best show is out bathroom window, where neighbor is watching Spices channel all times.

Louis think Boris use binogulars too much, he bang on door for Boris to get out of bathroom so Louis does not die from not crapping. Boris yell "You cannot come in! Boris is playing with his thing!" which make Louis swear lots and go to next-door bathroom. Louis can do this because next-door lock is broken from Louis kicking door last week, when him have bad to crap and Boris is seeing Sorority Sweethearts at same time.

Boris think best show would be to have binogulars in old man eating soup apartment, because from there Boris could see show of Louis kicking in door to crap while next door neighbors is eating dinners. And also, Boris could have soup to eat with Louis kicking show, very good idea. Two good things at one time, is fun. And Boris like soup, especially Russian Pringle soup which is Boris special crunchy recipe.

So like Boris say, is eating lunch and looking at binogulars. What a way to spend the time after noons. Then, who knows it? Exciting thing happen! Is like lucky lotto day for Boris to see exciting thing through binogulars. Boris looking at dog eating roasted beef sandwich on street when oh no, Man is hit by car. Boris thinks this is holy shit. There goes Man in suit stepping in street, and there goes car running over him like he is street. Such things Boris has never seen. Exciting, yes, but of course sad too. Because when Boris see such things he squeeze sandwich in excited way, and sandwich insides go on Boris pants.

This might seem funny part of Boris story, but is serious. Why is serious? Answer is Boris wearing favorite pants for binogular time. Yes yes, not smart plan for Boris at dressing time. But seem like good idea when Boris not wearing pants and favorite pants are waiting. Hard for Boris to argue then.

Favorite Boris pants is not like normal pants. Is nice. Is also purple like big McDonalds monster, but with stripes like monster does not have. So Boris is sad to think of pickles on pants. Sad math is pickles plus creamcheese equals goodbye favorite Boris pants. Such things always leave mark forever like bird wipes ass on Boris pants. And Boris not wanting to give such laughs to pants-lookers.

Now Boris must pick new pants to be favorite. Is busy life, no? But is O.K. Secret is Boris like rat race of life. Not to worry, when race is too exciting Boris take nap. Nap make Boris wake up happy, except on bus, when Boris wake up in strange town. But strange town is good for to make friends and find binogulars, so is O.K.

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The American people should thank the inventor of the remote control. We should thank our fat asses off. Because if it weren't for the remote, we'd have to get up off the couch every time something crappy came on TV, which means we'd all have bionic Teflon knees by now. And I don't know about you, but I like my current knees just fine.

Before the invention of the remote, Americans had to get up off their big, fat asses to change the channel every time something crummy came on, which led to the modern trend of watching whatever is on for hours regardless of quality. Beaten down and bitch-slapped by the repressive lack of technology in those days, Americans slouched away their meek little lives in front of such stultifying fare as Ted Hammerslut's Big Band Breakdown and The Russians in the Cushions, both of which were huge ratings hits in the 50's because TVs came from the factory set to that channel.

During World War II, those ingenious fucks known as the Nazis developed the first remote control technology, which they utilized in the design of a robotic doorman that was used to heil Hitler a cab when he was visiting Nazi central headquarters in Berlin. Due to the crummy technology of the day, the robot didn't work very well and after decapitating Hitler's mother-in-law in 1943, it was given the German medal of honor (the coveted "Big Bastard") and retired to a furniture showroom in Dresden.

Early attempts to adopt the Nazi remote technology for use in television sets were unsuccessful, as the remotes would channel-surf on their own looking for reruns ofThe Three Stooges.

The first successful television remote was developed by the Zenith Electronics Corporation in 1950. Called the "Lazy Fuck," the device was attached to the television by a long wire, and was used less for controlling the TV than it was for tripping crabby housewives in hilarious ways all across America. Though a huge hit among unhappily married men all across the country, overall the unit did poorly due to its bitingly accurate name.

In 1955, Zenith sort of improved on their invention with the creation of the "Flashmatic," a small device that looked exactly like a flashlight but wasn't because it said "Remote Control" on one side. Viewers aimed the Flashmatic at one of four light-receptive cells positioned on the corners of their television screen, allowing them to turn the set on, change the channel up or down, and explode the television. Some considered the lack of an "off" command to be an inconvenience, but forward-thinking Zenith executives imagined a day when Americans would never turn off their televisions, making unsightly "off" knobs a garish eyesore. The main purpose of this innovation, however, was to draw attention away from the Zenith's exploding feature, which made tidy profits for the corporation due to repeat business from customers with poor hand-eye coordination who blew up several television sets a year.

Eventually the Flashmatic had to be phased out since on sunny days the set would flash channels randomly for a few minutes before exploding, and in 1956 Zenith televisions killed half the residents of Arizona. The Flashmatic was replaced in 1957 by the Zenith Space Command, a revolutionary new remote technology named to appeal to small boys and the insane. The Space Command used an unpowered remote which contained four small aluminum rods. When the buttons on the unit were struck violently, preferably with a xylophone mallet, the rods would produce inaudible ultrasound tones that were then picked up by vacuum tubes hidden inside the television set.

The Space Command worked like a charm, a shitty, useless charm, and was a big hit among the tech-savvy and expectant mothers who soon realized that if they stood close enough to the humming set, they could see their babies. Unfortunately, after several years of lawsuits from families claiming birth defects and complaints from dog-whistle enthusiasts that their sets kept exploding, Zenith decided to discontinue the Space Command in 1959. For nearly two decades Americans were plunged back into the darkness of throwing coffee table knick-knacks and snack items at television sets in hopes of jogging the channel knob.

The modern remote made its debut in 1980, with current units using gamma radiation to perform tasks as disparate as setting a VCR's clock or cooking a Thanksgiving turkey faster than a microwave. Research found the gamma rays caused attention deficits in children and obesity in adults, but it was a small price to pay to not have to watch CHiPs anymore.

In 1992 MTV debuted a gameshow called Remote Control, which was of no consequence to anyone beyond the fact that it fills up three lines of column space.

Over the last twenty years, countless new remote-controlled innovations have hit the market, changing the way we live forever. From the "Bitch Be Quiet" human silencer to the remote-controlled "Woody," few can deny that remote controls are here to stay. And why not?

Well, I'm waiting. I'll expect an answer by Monday.

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