YES

As you may have heard, yesterday afternoon, Morgan Stanley held a little good-bye party for John Mack, who will step down as chairman at the end of the year. What are Mack’s plans for the retirement phase of his life? Will he sail around the world? Restore old cars? Work on his golf game? Take up fly fishing? Move back down to his native North Carolina? Teach a course on business at his alma mater, Duke University? While those would all be admirable pursuits, it’s not likely Mack will have the time for them. Because John Mack, you see, has his sights set on something bigger. The realization of a dream, if you will. The dream of selling women’s shoes. Read more »

Earlier: Nancy, Please! I’m Down On My Knees In A $3500 Suit!

Lynn Tilton, whose office at the $8 billion Patriarch Partners is decorated with whips, handcuffs, and a portrait of her “stretched across the hood of a black Mercedes,” sports five-inch stilettos on the job should she need to stick something up someone’s ass, only “strips and flips men, not companies,” and once sent a Christmas card to customers that featured a stuffed tiger and her in lingerie and fuck-me boots, brandishing whip, will star in Divas of Distressed. Because dreams really do come true. Here’s a peak at what’s in store. Read more »

Casting A Long Shadow In Hedge Funds [Dan’s Hamptons via BI]

Just, hear him out. Read more »

  • 27 Sep 2010 at 1:25 PM

Sassy Teen From Queens Meets Match In Asshole Banker

The Setting: Somewhere in Manhattan.

The Players: Evan, who “works on Wall Street” and his friend Ivanna, who probably works in PR or something; Sasha, a teenager from Queens with a smart mouth.

The Conflict: Ivanna has left her Sidekick (…) in a cab. She and Evan find out it was picked up by Sasha, now using it to “take photographs of herself and her friends.” Upon emailing Sasha and asking for the phone back, Evan is informed that his “white ass didn’t deserve to have it back,” which, true or not, is something no one had ever dared say to Evan’s cracker ass. He was prepared to neither let the diss nor the theft of the Sidekick slide.

The Resolution: Read more »

The other day we noted that in the course of making fake trades at SocGen, Jerome Kerviel had invented a fake client who he’d named Matt, whose bio Kerviel added little flourishes to such as the fact that Matt apparently loved to play rugby. Today we hear from a non-imaginary colleague of Kerviel’s, none too happy about the fact that he owes her, a bottle of bubbly she’s probably never gonna get. Read more »