Untitled

I’m in the middle of the fucking weeds laying down. He comes over and says, what are you doing? I said, I’m resting. Here, you’re resting? Go to the fucking beach or the park. I said i’m rest— I know I’m resting. I’m resting. They pull me in, they start giving me all kinds of questions, you know, this and that. He says, oh, so what are you gonna tell us, tough guy? I said, my usual, zero, nothing, I tell you… The fuck. He says no, you’re gonna tell us something today, tough guy. I said alright, I’ll tell you something, go fuck your mother. Bing, pow, boom, bing. You saw the paper, Anthony. My head was out like this, the prick. So now, I’m coming around, you know, all I see in front of me, this big prick again. He says, oh, what do you wanna tell me now, tough guy? I said, bing, what are you still doing here, I thought I told you to go fuck your mother. I thought he was gonna shit. Pow, boom, bing. The bastards. I wish I was big just once. Big cops.”

An American businessman was at the pier of a small coastal Mexican village when a small boat with just one fisherman docked. Inside the small boat were several large yellowfin tuna. The American complimented the Mexican on the quality of his fish and asked how long it took to catch them. The Mexican replied, that it only took a little while. The American then asked why didn’t he stay out longer and catch more fish. The Mexican said he had enough to support his family’s immediate needs.

The American then asked, “But what do you do with the rest of your time?”

The Mexican fisherman said, “I sleep late, fish a little, play with my children, take siesta with my wife Maria, stroll into the village each evening where I sip wine and play guitar with my amigos. I have a full and busy life, señor.”

The American scoffed. “I am a Wharton MBA and could help you. You should spend more time fishing and with the proceeds, buy a bigger boat. With the proceeds from the bigger boat you could buy several boats. Eventually you would have a fleet of fishing boats. Instead of selling your catch to a middleman you would sell directly to the processor, eventually opening your own cannery. You would control the product, processing and distribution. You would need to leave this small coastal fishing village and move to Mexico City, then LA and eventually NYC where you will run your expanding enterprise.”

The Mexican fisherman asked, “But señor, how long will this all take?”

To which the American replied, “Fifteen or twenty years.”

“But what then, señor?”

The American laughed and said, “That’s the best part. When the time is right you would announce an IPO and sell your company stock to the public and become very rich, you would make millions.”

“Millions, señor? Then what?”

The American said, “Then you would retire. Move to a small coastal fishing village where you would sleep late, fish a little, play with your kids, take siesta with your wife, stroll to the village in the evenings where you could sip wine and play your guitar with your amigos.”

Best laugh:
- Bert Kreisher
- Ryan Sickler
- Walt Flanagan