a saddam in the hand is worth about the same as a bush

It’s my opinion that some men are born leaders and some are not. I can’t help but think that Saddam Hussein fits in the first category.

Now, if you have them impression that I am a fan of Mr. Hussein, please let me retort politely.

Fuck that bullshit. The cocksucker is about a valuable to this world as a steaming pile of horseshit. So get that the fuck out of your mind right now.

My point, however, is that, even as a prisoner, he is able to control his trial and exert his will in the courtroom. He is obviously a man who is still in charge. He has managed to turn this thing into a circus and he will continue to do that until he convinces a large number of people this trial is a sham. And, maybe it is. There is no doubt in my mind he will be convicted someday before Bush leaves office, and he will likely be executed.

The motherfucker is hard-core and he will be until the day he dies. I’m talking about Saddam, not Bush. Okay, maybe both of them. The truth is that Saddam will be able to make this look like a kangaroo court, and there will be people who will go to their graves believing that Saddam didn’t get a fair trial. They will be just as positive as all of those whom Saddam sent to their graves who were absolutely positive that Saddam was the devil himself.

Saddam is as much a leader as Bush is a dork. Bush could learn a lesson, but he won’t. Saddam will have followers long after he is gone. He will be considered a martyr. Bush would be forgotten soon enough, except he will be a necessary character in the Saddam Hussein legend. He will be the powerful king who persecuted Saddam.

Only time will tell how the Saddam Hussein legend plays out. The only sure thing is that we sanctified this worthless piece of crap. I’m talking about Saddam, not Bush. Oh, well, maybe both.

Or my name isn’t Dick Clinch.

a love note to osama

I hadn’t had time to read or listen to Osama F. Bin Laden’s recent diatribe, so I was interested to find today that he had mentioned a book in his musings and that sales of the book had taken off, since. Apparently, Osama agrees with some of the points made in the book. Unfortunately, I have not read the book, so I can’t comment intelligently on Mr. Bin Laden’s critique.

Usually, when Osama tells us to do something, we do just the opposite. If he says Bush is a dipshit, then we all say Bush must not be a dipshit. If he says don’t vote for Bush, then we vote for Bush.

I guess that Osama’s speech was somewhat like a game of “Simon says,” in that if he doesn’t say, “Osama says,” then we can ignore what he says, but if he says “Osama says,” then the motherfucker is serious as a heart attack.

I guess the guy who wrote the book is happy that he got an “Osama says,” as the sales of his book are increasing. I’m just glad that the towel-head didn’t mention my blog or give it an “Osama says.”

I guess I shouldn’t say this, but here goes. This is my personal plea to Osama Bin Laden, so the rest of you can ignore it if, you wish. Here goes.



Osama,

I don’t care so much that you are out flapping your gums, because I can’t understand the language you speak. So, go yap your fucking head off. But here is my warning:

If you ever—and I mean ever—mention Dick Clinch’s Diary, or if you recommend that everyone read it, I’m going to find you and kick your ass. I’m fucking serious, here. I mean it. One fucking mention and I’m gonna open a can of kickass on you that you’re gonna remember for a long time. You got that, you worthless cocksucker? Well, good!

-Dick




There, that ought to do it. I don’t think you’re going to hear him mention me anytime soon. He should know that I’m not the kind of man to be messed with.

Or my name isn’t Dick Clinch.

an old fashioned preacher man

I thought about Ordell Robbie today. Ordell was a character in the movie Jackie Brown, played by Samuel L. Jackson. He and his friend Louis, played by Robert DiNiro, were watching Chicks Who Love Guns, and Ordell was describing the weaponry. When the girl in the red, white and blue bikini began discharging the Tec-9, Ordell lamented the decline of our civilization.

“This gun is advertised as the most popular gun in American crime,” says Ordell. “Do you believe that shit? It actually says that in the little book that comes with it: the most popular gun in American crime. Like they’re actually proud of that shit!”

The reason I was thinking about Ordell was I was starting to sound like him.

I read that a pastor in Oregon is calling for a boycott of Microsoft, Hewlett-Packard, Boeing, Nike and some other large corporations. It turns out his beef is that they all have signed a letter supporting adding the two words “sexual orientation” to an anti-discrimination bill. Now I guess it’s his right to be pissed off. After all, the man is purportedly a Christian, and a member of the religious establishment. Because of that, I guess he figures that he has to carry on the Christian tradition of being backward and resisting any progressive thought. In following in the footsteps of those religious people before him who nailed Christ to a cross and slaughtered millions, it is his innate responsibility. However, this preying minister had to open his Goddamned mouth and the following came out.

"This is not a threat, this is a promise. Check out the past presidential election. We made the moral issue the number one issue," he was quoted as saying.

That was when I started thinking like Ordell Robbie.

Do you believe that shit? He cited the last presidential election like he was proud of what he did. The motherfucker acts like he is proud that he ignored the truth, just to put a man in office who hates niggers and queers. He was happy to help put a man in office who, like him, hates some of his fellow countrymen, even as the President he elected pisses on the American flag and wipes his ass on the constitution. He was happy to put a man in office who is going to spy on his own people, just on the off chance he might get the opportunity to lynch a queer.

He was happy to put a man in office who was so asleep at the wheel that his Arab buddies were able to sweep in and put a couple of planes into the eastern liberal establishment while he wasn’t looking.

Not only is this pastor proud of what he did, he is bragging about it. And, he’s ready to do it again. Do you believe that shit?

Ordell Robbie may have been a killer and a gunrunner, but at least he had the morality to be outraged and offended when he saw something that was really repugnant. And as Ordell said, “This is some real repugnant shit.”

And I can’t disagree.

Or my name isn’t Dick Clinch.

je ne sais quoi

It’s hard to put your finger on, but most of you have to admit that Big Dick has a certain je ne sais quoi. Big Dick is like that ugly-assed mongrel dog that you know nobody is going to take home, but he looks up at you in that pathetic way dogs do and you tell him, “Forget it, you son of a bitch. That sad look ain’t gonna work.”

Then, that drop-dead gorgeous woman in the short dress made out of that clingy fabric that molds to the shape of her boobs and emphasizes her nipples comes along. You, know, the one with the long legs, the long blonde hair and the eyes that make you all goofy when she looks at you. She says, “I think he’s just darling.”

She touches him on the head and everyone agrees that he is just about the neatest dog there ever was. Then, when she leaves, and everyone is flaccid again, you look back at the dog and say, “Forget it. Ain’t gonna work.”

Let’s all use the expression je ne sais quoi in our daily conversations today—at least once. The people around you will think you are one smart, sophisticated motherfucker.

They’ll say, “Did you notice that (insert your name here) is one smart, sophisticated motherfucker?”

Or my name isn’t Dick Clinch.

cleaning up

It’s been a good week in the financial markets for those of us who are long.

Most of you are probably happier than a pig in shit to know that Big Dick is long, too. You’d better bet I am!

I would hesitate to say that I “cleaned up” this week, but it is nice to have a positive week. I would say with confidence that I am cleaning up this morning. However, the cleaning up I am doing today is discarding a bunch of junk—including stuff in my file cabinet that has been there for years. I’ve had a couple of reminders yesterday and today about what it was like when we were partying like it was 1999, back in 1999.

I used to keep stocks that I was trading in my portfolio at Quicken.com. As a matter of fact, I still do. I used to keep a detailed spreadsheet on my weekly profits and losses and I printed the portfolio page in Quicken every Friday night. I keep a spreadsheet today, but it contains my totals and I don’t keep track of the movements of individual stocks in my spreadsheet. Today, I am throwing away a pile of those old printouts of the portfolio in Quicken. I don’t have to worry about getting rid of the old spreadsheet. I lost a hard drive and lost the spreadsheet a few years ago. I know some of you are thinking that I should have backed up the file. Yeah, like I don’t know that? Where were you with your advice four years ago?

In 1999, I knew the Internet was the future and I traded Internet stocks. One of my pets was CMGI, an Internet incubator. CMGI acquired Internet startup companies for a song and then sold them off when they were worth tons of money. My printout on Friday, November 12, 1999, shows that CMGI was trading at $101.50. On Thursday, December 23, 1999, it was trading for $270.81. The markets must have been closed on Christmas Eve, as Christmas was on a Saturday.

Holy Fuck! Had I been holding a couple of yards of CMGI during that period, I would have been able to afford that yellow Ferrari. It goes without saying that when you’re driving a yellow Ferrari it can induce high-quality women to pop off their seatbelt, lean over the console, unzip your pants and improve your quality of life. Since I’m still driving the same car today I was then, I must have not been holding a half-million dollars worth of it. But I never would have held that long, anyway. My trading pattern back then was to take the first grand in profit off the table and put it into my pocket and let the other high-fliers take the risk of the rest of the ride.

Just as a brief aside, the NASDAQ closed on December 23, 1999, at 3969. The Dow closed at 11405 and the S&P at 1458. Shit! We still had another 25% to go on the ride to March 2000, when the markets hit their highs.

Holy Fuck! We still had three of the greatest months in the history of the stock market in front of us. That was when Dick Clinch was one liquid motherfucker, and getting more liquid every day.

The other part of the equation is that yesterday I received two large envelopes in the mail. They were telling me I could participate in class action suits to recover damages for money I had lost trading Commerce one (CMRC) and E-Piphany (EPNY). I can get one cent for each share of the former I owned and two cents for each share of the latter, less a 33% commission for the lawyers. Big fucking whoop! I used to trade these in odd lots of ten shares, because they traded in hundreds of dollars per share. I could net a dollar or two.

Fuck, that won’t even buy a blowjob in Thailand.

I remember 1999 and I remember the party, but I barely hung on to half the money I made—which is better than most people did—but it is still a bunch of shit. Maybe this time it will be different, but I’m not counting on it.

Or my name isn’t Dick Clinch.