Grandpa Rabid was right: We’ll all be ruined

That’s what Grandpa Rabid used to tell us whenever anything went slightly wrong with … well anything really.

If the old goat were around today he’d be shouting his dire warning from the rooftops.

Here at Rabid Reseller we’ve always been eternal optimists … if we weren’t we’d have closed the shop a long time ago.

Probably around 1987. That was the year Rabid could no longer stand idly watching complete idiots making a fortune on the stockmarket.

We managed to sell all the stock by the end of September that year, as well as the delivery vans and the furniture, and stuck all our cash into the sharemarket.

The rest, as they say, is history, but they also say this history stuff repeats on you, like a three-day-old curry you forgot to refrigerate.

And recently it feels like we’ve been eating festering curries endlessly.

This time around we’re not exposed to the stockmarket directly – we never really recovered enough from the last time to have anything left over to invest.

But judging by the doom and gloom oozing out of the few customers who still wander in off the street there must be an awful lot of them who had some cash to splash on the ASX roulette wheel. And we’re fairly sure their numbers didn’t come up.

Of course that means we’re not selling anything. Well, all right, we hardly ever sell anything, that’s true, but now we’re selling nothing, zip, nada, nyet.

No, we’re not even selling anything to eastern European migrants. And Uncle Tony is miserable.

Well, all right he’s always miserable, but now he’s downright maudlin and he really hates it when he gets in a mood he can’t understand or spell.

His business model is based on lending money to people who don’t have the necessary credentials to qualify for even a subprime loan and that’s just about everybody these days, so you’d think he’d be happy.

But he’s lent so much that he’s run out of cash and he hasn’t got the paperwork to qualify for a government bailout.

And that’s making everyone here at Rabid Reseller miserable because he’s hiding out in the back office muttering about red tape and bureaucracy and barriers to business, which we’re fairly sure means he wishes he hadn’t stopped filing tax returns a few decades ago.

It’s a bit tricky trying to qualify for government assistance when you’ve previously claimed to be deceased.

And speaking of deceased, all the economists are pronouncing the imminent death of capitalism, which is a bit of a worry, because it wasn’t that long ago they announced the death of all the other -isms, so we’re not sure what’s left. Then again, these are the same economists who said, “Trust us – subprime lending is the future of banking”.

Too bad they didn’t use some of this fabulous computer technology to predict the financial meltdown instead of using it to reach the next level in World of Warcraft.

Here at Rabid we’re thinking about investing in space exploration – there’s gotta be a planet somewhere out there with a breathable atmosphere and a functioning market economy.

We’re rapidly running out of both those essential ingredients on planet earth.

Gotta go!

Countdown started!

all be grandpa rabid right ruined strategy was well