Balls

Perhaps you’re a tourist who traveled hundreds of miles to visit the famed Wall Street bull and get your photo taken next to his sack. Perhaps you’re a hedge fund manager who’s down like 47 percent through September, and was told your luck could change by rubbing those balls. Perhaps you work downtown and simply enjoy teabagging the biggest pair in the area every night on the way home. If you are any or all of those things, brace yourself for a crushing wave of disappointment and loss because you’re not getting anywhere near those guys. Read more »

  • 19 Sep 2011 at 4:00 PM
  • Balls

What Wall Street Wives Can Learn From Diane Passage

Think you don’t need to perform your own quarterly audits of your husband’s business to check for any discrepancies? Think again. Choose not to take regular looks at your meal ticket’s book and you could go from dining on the finest shellfish money can buy (“Some of those black-tie events were so fucking boring. We went to one at Blackstone? Their holiday party? I was like, I can’t believe I spent so much time getting ready for this”), chairing charities (that include pole-dancing fundraisers), residing in a $7.5 million townhouse on the Upper East Side (screening room and pool, natch), receiving all the trinkets you could ever desire (“She got whatever she wanted: diamonds—at least a quarter-million dollars’ worth, according to the U.S. Attorney’s office—designer clothes, even a new pair of boobs”) living, blissfully, prenuptial agreement free, and thinking you’d never have to go back to working the late shift at Scores… Read more »