Tag Archives: Humor

Stocks 101

The stock market is not my friend! An acquaintance, but not a friend!

Between my 401(k), IRA, Roth IRA, cash account, and 529 plan, my semi-rational thought process nose dives into a stellular black hole!

There’s a reason people say they “play the market”.  It’s gambling. That’s all! There’s just no cards, dice or poker chips with stocks!

Instead, there’s EPS (earnings per share), PE (price to earnings ratio), Non-GAAP (Non-Generally Accepted Accounting Principles), and the really big BS (Balance Sheets).

And for trading stocks there’s Limit Orders, Market Orders, Trailing Stop %, and Selling Short!

Selling short really confuses me! How do you buy something and only make money if the price goes down? Isn’t that like trying to gain weight by not eating for a week?

Some stocks pay dividends, but that’s like getting a small rebate from a kidnapper’s ransom! 

Besides, I think I’d make more money pitching quarters in a prison riot lockdown than “investing” in stocks.

In old times, they locked people in stocks as a torturing punishment! Psft! No wonder they call them stocks today!!  It’s just a voluntary financial torture!

My success is limited, still better than most financial advisors I know, but still, limited. At least when I first started “trading” stocks 27 years ago, I had beginners’ luck, albeit bad. 

I started managing a rollover account from a previous job during the “dot-com bubble”. 

Good grief! If you couldn’t make money during that time on dot-com stocks then you were a complete dimwit!   

My wit is dim.

I spent hours studying and researching stocks.  After days of contemplation, then, and only then, did I invest my rollover account into painstakingly chosen stocks.

I marvel at it today! It was incredible!!

After just one year of investing in stocks during a bull market while the dot-com bubble was in its peak, I was able to turn a healthy sum of money into a sixty percent loss for the year! A 60% loss!!

Weightwatchers can’t touch those numbers!!

That money would’ve had less risk if I bet it all on a race horse! I could’ve done better by blindly picking a horse number!

Yes please! I’d like to bet my entire retirement account on horse #13. And what’s the horse’s name? Fat Boy you say? OK, great!!

I should’ve stopped then.  Maybe just bury cash and coins in glass mason jars in the backyard.  Even if I forgot where half the jars were, I’d still be money ahead!  

I stuck with mutual funds for a while, which is kind of like burying retirement money in Wall Street’s backyard. 

At least the mutual funds I picked were kind of OK. Not great, but OK. Kind of.

Fast forward 27 years.

Now with my vast array of investment brilliance, I realized in March that the stock sell-off from the Chinese Corona Virus was an investment opportunity. A big one!

So I started tapping into my online stock accounts.  I have stocks of some solid companies. Unfortunately, they all dropped like an apple on Isaac Newton’s head as soon as I hit the buy button!

Like one stock, it was a great deal at a measly $17.91 per share! I bought 200 shares on my iPad 2 ½ years ago while in the hospital waiting room waiting for one of my grandsons to be born.    

It’s fallen ever since!  I looked a minute ago. It’s a whopping $2.89 a share today, but as low as $1.61 earlier this year. 

I’m sure they say in Investing for Dummies 101 (a book I really need to read) that what goes up fast in the stock market can come down fast too. But what if everything you buy goes down fast?

Maybe I can sell my stock experience and knowledge to make money? 

I’ve lost money in the market, and if I carried a briefcase, then I could claim to be an expert!

Anyway, my strategy and advice would be super easy.  Whatever stocks I buy, you buy and sell them short! 

You’re guaranteed to make a killing!!

Need more advice?

Call 1-800-Rabbit trails. For a small fee, payable in three low monthly payments plus shipping and handling, I’ll let you know what NOT to buy!

In the meantime, diversify!!

Bury half your money in the backyard. Put the rest on Fat Boy, horse #13!

Hurricane Rest

As I sit and peck on my iPad, the wind is beginning to blow, and the rain just started playing pitter pat on the windows.  Hurricane Laura makes landfall tonight.

We’re 3 1/2 hours drive from the beach, but hurricanes are non-discriminatory storms, especially the wind.  We’re lucky though. We’re west of the hurricane’s eye, the less destructive side.

Even so, trees will come down. Electricity will flicker, then fail.

Tomorrow afternoon the rain will wane, the wind will pucker out, and everyone will get on with things. Continue reading Hurricane Rest

Corona Church

Life has temporarily changed. Pandemic. The world’s partially shut down because of the Chinese coronavirus.

Like this: we went to church Sunday, online!  We logged in on my iPad to watch Facebook live!  And no one else can see you.  If I’d known that, I wouldn’t have brushed my teeth or clipped my nails!

The first minutes are great, the kid’s part!  I understand that part, kind of a milk of the Word thing, ya know?

So I’m slurping on my spiritual glass of Borden’s watching the children’s minister when all the sudden a little angry face icon 😡 floats up the side of the screen!  That’s rude! It’s the kid’s part of the service for crying out loud!

Then there was another angry face, and another! It was terrible! I felt a self-righteous indignation!

But then I realized I was holding the IPad with my right hand at the bottom with my thumb on the angry face.  Every time I moved, my thumb pushed an angry face! Continue reading Corona Church

The Odds Are

“I think this trip is worthy of one of those Facebook story thingies you do!” one of my sons, Kyle said.  He’s technically a son-in-law, but more so, a son.

Another son, Todd, immediately added, “Yeah, I’m going to read one of your Facebook thingies at your funeral!”

Love was in the air.

My oldest son, Blake, was driving their family mini-van, and my other four sons were piled in seats behind us.

I didn’t know where we were going. In a group text, they asked if I wanted to do something, and then they all quickly chimed in that they were all “in”.

Experience told me to be cautious, especially with their secrecy.  Usually their schemes involve something dangerous, humiliating or involving a wild animal.

Not this time. We were already driving 1 ½ hours to Shreveport, Louisiana when they told me they were taking me to a casino.

I rolled my eyes.

The Odds Are story

I really don’t gamble.  Money equals time worked, and I try not to throw time away.

Once, years ago, I put a quarter in a slot machine and pulled the lever just to say I’d done it. I lost that quarter. I’ve missed it ever since.

On the other hand, I’ve lost money on “risky” companies in the stock market.  At least theoretically there’s a chance in that, as opposed to an acre of the moon I considered buying on line at Christmas for $79. (No joke! You can buy moon land on the internet!)

Continue reading The Odds Are

Dreamtown to Awakeville

It was a crazy dream!

I was zonked asleep, which is important, because sometimes I daydream.  In fact, sometimes blogging is like daydreaming, except with words.

Anyway, I was asleep dreaming.

My dreams are usually weird — near sighted blonde unicorns with measles playing frisbee golf while carrying spittoons for their chewing tobacco weird.  Unless you’re deranged, my dreams seldom make sense!

I dreamed about being in an open country field with rolling hills and tall grass as a contestant in a show similar to Wipe Out.  The next task in the show was to ride a merry-go-round for children. Continue reading Dreamtown to Awakeville

Stun Gun

The stun gun came by mail a few days before Thanksgiving.  It was a lot smaller than I thought.

Two little batteries supposedly deliver 800,000 volts of shock, enough to subdue a man with muscle spasms and a temporary, incapacitated state of confusion.

It just wasn’t convincing. The prongs were flimsy aluminum, and toy Buzz Lightyears have better connections!

I thought about trying it on myself, but not being a big fan of electrical shock, I passed.  Besides, I have four sons. Surely one of them would do. Continue reading Stun Gun

Dad, Does Insurance Cover an Ambulance

I didn’t recognize the number and almost didn’t answer. “Hello.”

It was my third son, Todd, who has an adventurous spirit.  “Hey, Dad. Whatchu up to?”

“Just watching a soccer game on TV. I thought you were in San Antonio playing in the college club soccer tournament this weekend?”

“Yeah, I am.”

“Y’all doing alright?”

“Yes sir. Won the first one, lost the second, and tied right now.”

Todd pressed on. “Hey, does insurance cover ambulance rides?”

“Yeah. Why do you ask?”

“I was talking to some guys and I didn’t know.”

“Yeah, any time there’s an accident, it’s covered.” I was getting confused. “Where are you?”

“I’m at our game.”

“Are you finished, or about to start?,”

“No, the game’s going on now.”

“Well Todd, why aren’t you playing?”

“I was, but I was making a steal and slid to clear the ball out of bounds.  The guy from the other team fell on me and when he did, there was a loud pop in my neck.”

“Oh man!! Are you hurt?  Need to go to the doctor?”

Todd matter of factly said, “These guys think I do.”

“What guys?”

“The paramedics.” Continue reading Dad, Does Insurance Cover an Ambulance

Whisker Windfall

This Labor Day was the twentieth anniversary since I grew a goatee. Haven’t seen the ugly under those hair follicles in this century!

Several weeks ago Janet and I traveled, and in Keystone, South Dakota, I shaved.

I was shocked! Without hair on my face, everything looked different!

At least my receding hair line, even if it’s in a steady retreat, is a gradual reveal.  It’s like a slow descent plane landing.  But shaving cold turkey and going lickety-split from whiskers to clean shaven after twenty years, well that’s an engine failure crash landing!

I felt like I needed to introduce myself to the guy staring back at me in the mirror! Who is this stranger?

The worst part, however, was somehow, sometime in last twenty years, someone snuck another chin under the original! It doesn’t look like a double chin with facial hair, right?

But now, my face looks pregnant! Nine months. With twins! Continue reading Whisker Windfall

Throw Momma From The ‘Plane’

Last week we flew to Rapid City, South Dakota to start a six state vacation tour. There’s always a variety of people on airline flights.  I catch myself evaluating everyone, particularly the men, just in case I have to fight.

Don’t call me paranoid. Call me, I don’t know, prudent. Maybe paranoid.  Mainly, prudent.

This flight though, I was more worried about a flight attendant than anything else! At first, I wasn’t completely sure if he was a she, or she was a he. It was she.

I’m figuring she could’ve retired in 1972, but has held on to working as long as she can. The airline must have great benefits! Hair styling, Botox and charm school, however, aren’t among them.

Her gruff, don’t make me slap you, matter of fact, I smoke three packs of cigarettes a day for lifer voice seemed disturbingly familiar. She even looked familiar, but patting my chin with my finger, I couldn’t figure out from where…

Then my mind started churning….a movie, maybe?

That’s it! That’s who the stewardess looks like!  She looked like mama from the 1987 movie, Throw Momma From the Train!  It was uncanny!!  Twilight Zone music started playing it was so eerie!! Continue reading Throw Momma From The ‘Plane’

Golf With a Putter and Six Iron

A few years ago a handful of my high school buddies started getting together every year. They’re great guys and I’m always glad to see them!

But every year we do something they love, I loathe. Golf.

I’m not talking about fun golf, like Putt-Putt, where you navigate obstacles, putt over the astro turf hill, and maybe even win a free game with a hole in one at the Windmill. Nope!  Nothing fun like that!

They like golf-golf, where you whack a little white ball (orange for me so I can find it in the woods) and hit it over acres and acres of mowed grass that’s had gallons of ‘Weed Be Gone’ sprayed on it. The only goal is to knock the little ball in a coffee cup in the ground that you can’t see.

Psft!  What are they thinking?! Continue reading Golf With a Putter and Six Iron