Billy Moonbat is a friend of mine. We became friends long before I knew what his politics were. Had I known his politics early on, I doubt we would be friends. Billy is a central planning statist. He wants everything regulated. He hates freedom. He still bitches about Bush. Lately, he has been mute on Obama. That is a good sign.
Aside from Billy's many intellectual flaws, he tends to be an irritating little bastard as well. That he remains alive today is a testament to my spiritual superiority. Prior to 2007, not only would I have killed Billy by now- but I would have disposed of his body in some untraceable fashion and then patented the process.
I still answer the phone when Billy calls. We have history together. He generally only calls when there is some unexplainable good news that runs contrary to my philosophy or this blog. With the DOW up nearly 500 points on Wednesday, I was not surprised to see Moonbat pop up on my caller ID. Like some demented automaton, I answered.
At first there was the back and forth about how was your Thanksgiving and all that kind of bullshit. Then there was the catching up of gossip about who is screwing who, which I am becoming less interested in with the passage of time. Unless of course, it is me doing the screwing. That I might be interested in. I waited for Moonbat to drop the bomb. Indeed, it was about the huge rally, so predictable. It went something like this:
BM: I see the markets' are taking off today, looks like things are doing just fine.
FG: Yea I saw that this morning. Initially I was thinking that maybe Obama had resigned or something, maybe got hit in the head with a golf ball and sparked a rally.
BM: Nope. Apparently they have solved the euro crisis and come up with a plan to bail out Europe.
FG: They haven't solved shit, Billy. I wouldn't buy into this rally with your money. They are just going to have to print away or the taxpayers are gonna get out the rope and the guillotines.
BM: Well, I just get tired of all that doom and gloom you write about here on FG, when the truth is that things seem to be going pretty well.
FG (getting pissed) Going well? What the fuck have you been smoking? One up day and you suddenly call Billy? Where the hell were you when the market was getting slaughtered during the past two weeks? Besides gold and silver are up today, so I don't really give a shit.
BM: Can you believe that Cain, screwing that gal for 13 years? He's toast. Romney is a shoe in.
FG: How is it that we never hear about Obama screwing around? Nobody's ever found an old girlfriend anywhere? That's fucking strange. Maybe he sealed up those old girlfriends with an executive order or something. He does shit like that. Maybe he screwed some muslim chick at Columbia, dumped her, and her dad had to perform an honor killing. You think he's gay?
BM: Obama isn't gay! Shit, he's got kids.
FG: That doesn't matter Billy. Look at Hillary. Had sex one time in her life and had a kid. She's a stone cold lesbian and they managed to spawn off Chelsea for chrissakes. I think Obama's gay. I think he is a gay muslim that throws like a girl and rides around on bicycles with a dork helmet on. Probably adopted those girls. We'd have to pay Indonesia to take him back.
BM: You're just pissed that the market is up and all that doom ain't working out for you.
FG: No Billy, I'm just pissed that I didn't kill you years ago and make it look like an accident. I'm mad I answered the fucking phone.
We had a little more small talk which is designed to put a little distance between us before we hang up. That's how guys make up. We don't really admit we're wrong. We just try to say something nice about each other's football teams. Stuff like that. You can bet your ass on one thing. When this market takes the big nose dive sometime before Obama's ass kicking next fall- I'll have Billy on speed dial. He better answer the phone.