Planespotting: Bill Becomes A Man, Thain, Citigroup

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Microsoft : Lambert St Louis Int'l to Los Cabos Int'l on its Cessna Citation X
This trip is a lot like the scene in Sixteen Candles when Anthony Michael Hall gathers all the nerds in school into one room and proudly holds up Molly Ringwald’s underwear, as a sign that, you know what? He fucking rules. And now it’s Billy’s turn. With this jaunt to Cabo San Lucas, Gates is telling us that, like AMH’s numerous failed attempts to get a female to undress in his presence and then finally sealing the deal, after all those geek-flag raising trips to Seattle and the like, Gates has finally gotten into a girl’s pants and brought it on home, so to speak. Of course, Hall was full of shit and hadn’t actually touched Molly Ringwald, only begged and somehow convinced her to let him borrow her undergarments, so we’re pretty sure Bill spent most of his time sequestered in his room after the asthma-attack inducing run-in with a harem a bikini-clad coeds upon arrival but we can all agree this a step in the right direction. Bravo, our little four-eyed friend. Bravo, indeed.

Citigroup: blank to blank on its Cessna Caravan
Citigroup: Though we’ve had our share of disagreements—why you would even consider getting rid of that adorable rouge umbrella is beyond us—all in all, we’ve had a lot of great times. Like when you went to Miami Beach and we casually mentioned that perhaps your visit was motivated more by the fact that Joe Francis was shooting footage for his latest video, Girls Gone Wild: CEOs and Secretary Hoes than by business-related matters. That was fun, wasn’t it? Even after ‘Anonymous’—executive assistant? That prick in IT?—tried, pretty skillfully, to make us feel like a naughty child in need of a timeout with his/her “What the hell is your problem with Citigroup you petulant twat-asshole”—‘twat-asshole,’ that was a good one!—, we were still enjoying ourselves, weren’t we? The flights to Vegas/Thailand/Hong Kong for what we mused were Celine Dion concerts/military coups/authentic happy endings? We’re going to go out on what we don’t even really consider a limb here and say that neither of us’ve ever had it better. And nice job on that little acquisition today; really, tongue-out-of-cheek, it was a great buy. But now, apparently, you think you don't need us. You think, in that lying, cheating bastard sort of way, that you could just bide your time with us, and now that Turkey's come a calling, it's time to move on and move up. We don't think we need to remind you that we're talking, specifically, about that little in-the-middle-of-the-night move, wherein you decided to stop letting us know where you were going and how you were getting there. Oh, and did you think you were being kind and throwing us a bone by still letting us know that you went to 'somewhere' from 'somewhere' and how long it took to traverse the distance between 'somewhere' and 'somewhere'? We don't need your charity. In fact, we don't want anything from you ever again. We've deleted every planespotting post that you were ever mentioned in. You don't exist-- not even in our archives. In case you haven't gotten it yet, you’re dead to us. But before we let you go, here’s one for the road: Fuck you, Citigroup! You promised us the world and all we were left with was this slap in the face: 6:31pm -7:27 pm.

NYSE: Palm Beach Int'l to Dekalb Peachtree on its Gulfstream IV
You know what? We don't have the energy for this today. Thain, do us a favor and say something defamatory about yourself-- sexual preferences, proclivity for country music, balloon animals, etc, etc are all good jumping off points.
(But really whatever you think you deserve.)

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