…it turns out that trying to make a profit in this business is harder than expected. When grown and sold legally, marijuana can be an expensive proposition, with high startup costs, a host of operational headaches and state regulations that a beet farmer could never imagine. In Colorado, for example, managers must submit to background checks that include revealing tattoos. The state also requires cameras in every room that has plants; Mr. Klug relies on 48 of them. Prices for pot, meanwhile, have plummeted, in large part because of growing competition. And bank financing is out of the question: Federal law doesn’t allow these businesses, and agents sometimes raid growers even in states where it is legal…Another outfit, La Conte’s Clone Bar & Dispensary, formed a partnership with another marijuana firm to share some costs. But it produced a profit margin of only 6% on revenues of $4.2 million last year, according to Chief Financial Officer Jeremy Heidl, who says he considers that an unacceptable return given the financial and legal risks. To expand the business, the firm has branched out to sell everything from smoke-free dispensers to body salves and brownies infused with pot. Still, he says, “the economics of cannabis are so difficult.” [WSJ]
Two days ago, the results of the Level III CFA exam were released. Fifty-one percent of you breathed sighs of gratitude and relief. After years of sacrifice and moments of crippling self-doubt, you were officially granted permission to place those little letters next to your name. Forty-nine percent of you were left feeling a bit less satisfied with how the June test panned out. We haven’t spoken with everyone, but in our professional opinions, we’re guessing most who failed are at stage two of Kübler-Ross. You’re so angry you can hardly see straight and you’ve fired off at least two emails to everyone associated with the Institute, Subject: “I see your three little letters and raise you three of my own: S a D” followed by a picture of a rabbit with a knife through it and a little card that says “YOU,” and then later, a photo you took using the self-timer function in which, and it’s kind of dark so it’s hard to make out, it looks like you’ve arranged hundreds of small candles spelling out the letters ‘c’ ‘f’ ‘a’ on your front lawn? And are attempting to put out the flames with your own piss?
And while many people have tried to tell you that it’s not a big deal, that you can take it again next year, that it doesn’t reflect who you are, that it happens to a lot of guys, nothing has seemed to work. You’re still really, really angry and deep down inside, you’re really sad, sad that you’ve been denied access to the club where apparently now they’ll let in just over half of anyone who shows up to take the goddamn test.
You shouldn’t be. In fact, you dodged a bullet. Read more »