MBIA, the mortgage insurer that decided to back all those subprime securities underwritten by Countrywide and others, will now have its day in court.
A judge ruled earlier this week that MBIA can proceed with its fraud claim against Countrywide (now Bank of America.) The insurer claims Countrywide lied when it told MBIA the mortgages being insured were “in in strict compliance with its underwriting standards and guidelines.” Read more »
Which former treasury secretary would you rather hear about sticking his tongue down a woman’s throat whilst placing his hands “everywhere sort of like an octopus”? Which former treasury secretary would you like to hear about coping with the stress of the financial crisis with a good spoon? If you said “anyone but Larry Summers,” you’re in luck! Today Iris Mack (pictured), a former investment banker, MIT professor and derivatives trader is writing about her brush with Bob Rubin’s appendages. Monday we’ll track down all the lucky ladies who’ve taken a ride on the Summers express. Sayeth Mack, who met Rubin while buying a smoothie in Miami circa October 2007:
Three days after [our first phone] chat, Prince resigned, forcing Bob Rubin to add an additional chairmanship — of the board — to his business cards. But he kept calling me all the while, and by December some of my friends, late mother and siblings knew about my unlikely “phone buddy” relationship with the former Treasury Secretary. He seemed kind of lonely and lost, I told them; like he didn’t have a lot of close friends, and if anyone back at the office had been in the mood to joke around it wasn’t going to be with him. … He flew down to Miami to visit his father again on Christmas Eve. When he called he seemed disappointed to learn I was in Alabama, visiting my family in Mobile (where most of them eventually moved after losing their homes in Hurricane Katrina.) I politely explained that when you want to have a meeting with someone, it helps to inform her ahead of time. “Yes, ma’am,” he said, and sure enough, a few days later he called to make a dinner date for January 10 at the Setai on South Beach.
Now, I say “date,” but even with our budding “buddyship” I did not really realize at the time that this was a “date.” He was an extraordinarily wealthy and powerful (much older) man who spent his days traveling around in a Citigroup jet and I was a math/finance geek who’d been covered in five miles of sweat and no makeup the one time we’d met in person. Now, I clean up pretty nice for dinner in South Beach with the former Treasury Secretary, but maybe it didn’t matter; later he would remind me that the first time we’d met I had something written on my backside. (I promise you, I had not even noticed when I picked up a few pairs of gray sweatpants on clearance at Victoria’s Secret that the words “Pink University” were screen printed on the behind, but give the man credit for being observant.)
“We are Wall Street. It’s our job to make money. Whether it’s a commodity, stock, bond, or some hypothetical piece of fake paper, it doesn’t matter. We would trade baseball cards if it were profitable. I didn’t hear America complaining when the market was roaring to 14,000 and everyone’s 401k doubled every 3 years. Just like gambling, its not a problem until you lose. I’ve never heard of anyone going to Gamblers Anonymous because they won too much in Vegas.
That question came up in the hearing earlier this week in reference to an email sent by Josh Birnbaum, a former MD in Goldman’s structured products group.
The email, sent in July 2007, sought authorization form senior management for the structured products desk to buy put options on a slew of competitors including Merrill Lynch, Bear Stearns and Lehman Brothers. The email also revealed that Birnbaum had bought put options on MBIA, Ambac and Countrywide. Read more »
You also narrowly avoided being ambushed into having a conversation about tranny tits while waiting on line for the bathroom, so same diff, no diff.
Tried to grab a beer at the Gin Mill Bar the other night, but with 100 members of the SEC inside (whose bar tab the taxpayer presumably covered), it kinda killed the vibe. We sat outside and watched as group after group walked to the door, saw the sign and muttered, “SEC Happy Hour, what the fuck?” and then walked away in disgust. As for tranny porn, I didn’t get close enough but that might be more of an after-work Friday happy hour get together type thing.
Update: In his haste to (understandably) get indignant re: footing the bill for a bunch of sick fucks who have no business celebrating a job well done, our tipster did not realize that SEC, in this case, refers to Southeastern Conference. Obviously it’s not all his fault, but given that I’ve previously publicly stated the fact that I know jack about football, I’m not taking too much blame for this. Additionally, I’m adding that this also went over NakedShort’s head. As you were.