The closest Miss G can come is a credit card, but for her it works pretty much the same way. For 28 days she is
the Queen of the Fucking Universe, and 2 days a month she has
to come down to Earth and make Boy Ginger pay the bills! On just such a day recently, as Boy G dug around in the bottom of the money market account to see if enough had collected up there to pay the car note, he made a shocking realization:
Miss Ginger fucking owns stock in British Petroleum!
So, as she is upstairs trying to scrub the vileness off of her silken body, Boy G is left with the quandary of what the hell to do about this!
First: there are the financial considerations. She inherited the stock from Momma and Daddy G, and the basis is not that far
from where it's trading now. Does Miss G ditch it while it still has value, and get out before BP fails and declares bankruptcy, leaving Miss G and thousands of British retirees penniless (or penceless, I guess) in their old age? Or does she hang on to it, hoping that in the long run, BP will emerge as a stronger company and the stock
will increase further in value?
Next, there are the logic choices. Bubba Artie always told Miss G that an investment in a well-managed company would always prove to be sound if one held it long enough, and if the management team was solid. Trouble is, it is now clear that BP is run by a bunch of greedy, corner-cutting fucktards who put immediate profitability above responsible practices. Miss G is not feeling that BP is winning Artie's vote on this one.
And finally, there's the whole moral dilemma. I mean, these people fucked with pelicans!! Momma G loved the shore birds of the Gulf Coast almost as much as she loved her own kids!
They were one of her favorite subjects to needlepoint and embroider, and Miss G still owns many beautiful tapestries that Momma G created to showcase these majestic creatures. She would be SO conflicted to know that a company in which she owned stock had caused such immeasurable destruction and irreversible damage!
It's been suggested that BP will start to buy up its own stock to buoy it's price in a sinking market, and Miss G knows they are a billions of dollar kind of company, but she also knows the pricetag for the cleanup and restoration are going to be ginourmous! Personally, if I were Governor of Louisiana, I would not rest until BP had paid to soap down every bush, reed, and crawfish along every inch of the Louisiana coast! That would be after requiring them to repair all the fishing grounds, rebuild the equipment ruined by the oil, and redeem all of the restaurant owners and fishmongers who went bankrupt while their livelihood was destroyed. I'm not convinced that even a company as big a BP has deep enough pockets to buy off the Cajuns of south Louisiana! They are known for their joie di vivre and their party spirit, but just piss one off and see how soon you are forgiven. I shudder to think of the number of Tony Hayward voodoo dolls inhabiting the bayous and swamps right now!
So, whaddya think, dear readers? Hang on to the stock, and hope for the best, or ditch it now, and head to Vegas with Bubba John for the 4th of July in style?