I just listened to it again, and I thought it really deserved its own post.
It is one of the best financial interviews on the web for two reasons.
1. Kyle Bass is a smart cat
2. He masterfully and subtlety slaps around the female interviewer with skill never seen on television.
Some dimes that Bass drops:
“You can’t hate the mirror because you are ugly.” (I may bite this one).
“Capitalism without bankruptcy is like Chritianity without hell.”
“Buying gold is just buying a put against the idiocy of the political cycle. It’s That Simple”
“You know how screwed up Europe is when you have an Italian central banker and a German pope”.
“The only way to quote resolve any problems in Europe is to have massive debt restructuring…
One of the things we’ve said in our office recently is you know how screwed up Europe is when you have a German pope and an Italian central banker. We have a scenario today in which debt has grown globally in the last nine years from $80 trillion to $210 trillion. Global credit market debt has grown at 12% a year for the last nine years, while global GDP has grown at 4. We’re in a scenario where the PIIGS have sailed into a zone of insolvency. When you sail into the zone of insolvency there is no quote solution for you. The bill is due and you have to pay the pill. What has to happen is it is of our opinion that these debts have to be written down, it’s that simple.
Basically you’re saying if Germany goes joint and severally liable with the profligate idiots of southern Europe will that quote solve the scenario? Think about this. Let’s assume Germany goes to doing a eurobond and Germany takes on these… first of all German constitutional court has already ruled that that’s illegal in Germany, but let’s assume that they get over that and they go ahead and issue this bond. What would that do for the profligate members including Greece when Greece says, “OK we’re all in, we’re good, you’re lending us more money, we have a big debt problem and you’re lending us some more and now we can borrow a little cheaper,” and then Greece keeps spending, and they go back to Germany and say, “OK Germany I need some more money.” Germany says, “No, we’re going to impose this real austerity on you now.” Greece says, “Fine, we’ll default.” Every single time from now on Germany is in the exact situation it’s in today. We call it in Texas a Mexican Standoff, meaning there’s no winner. The profligate members will always have Germany by the short hairs every time this scenario comes up. So I disagree. I don’t think that Germany will end up going all in. It would not be to the benefit of Germany to do so in the long run. Let me ask you this question: How many of your relatives would you go joint and severally liable with?”
“Fortune pays you sometimes for the intensity of her favors by the shortness of their duration. She soon tires of carrying any one long on her shoulders.” – Baltasar Gracián (Spanish Jesuit and baroque prose writer), 1601-1658
I feel lethal, manic, on the verge of frenzy. I am foaming at the mouth. My nose is starting to bleed. I think my mask of sanity is about to slip.
I throw down my luggage in my apartment, hang my Custom Suits and I get the call:
This Super Fly Argentinian girl, who I met at Mint and haven’t swooped yet, wants me to meet her at her clothing store. She is getting off work soon. And she and her Brazilian girlfriend want to roll out with me. There are innuendos of a Ménage à trois. The evening has promise.
I step out and roll into the CVS on Lincoln Road to grab some chicle. I roll in the line to pay, and a Fly Blonde Russian girl on her cell phone looks at me and mouths “Hi” to me. How often does that happen when a girl is talking on the phone?
I pay for my gum and step outside and light up a grit. I am feeling invincible. I have been sparring a lot. It tends to do that to me.
The Fly Blonde Russian walks out and continues up Lincoln. I quicken the pace, and open: “Do you know which way Sushi Samba is?”, I ask her. (Of course, I know where it is, but it was the first thing that came into my mind.)
“Hi. I do. It is just up there.”, the Russian girl says pointing up Lincoln.
“Wait, my name is Michael Mason.” I say and give her a “two-kisses” greeting. I spit some Street Game and Number Crunch, as I am supposed to meet the Argentinian and Brazilian girls.
Game is on though.
I keep heading up Lincoln and get a text from the Argentinian:
Most people ignore me, but some tourists look at me strange. I have a fleeting thought and quickly dismiss them as from Red States.
I need to settle down though and light another smoke. I am checking my phone and smoking, when a Fly Cubana Girl rolls up on a bicicletta. (She is 21 years old.)
She asks me for a cigarette.
Looking down at my phone, I ignore her for a few beats (real artistic), and say, “Sure.” Hand her one. Then say, “You need a light?”
“Yeah”, she says. I bust out a sick reverse Zippo trick for style points.
We start talking. She is fly. Mad fly. No make up on. But then again, I have a thing for Fly Cubanas.
I start walking with her as she rides her bike. She is kind of hipstered out. But still, stunningly fly. You know the type. Since it is kind of awkward talking to her while she is riding her bike, I say, “Let’s have a seat over here”.
I start rapping out in Spanish and English mixed with her and she tells me she is breaking up with her boyfriend.
I am still supposed to meet the Argentinian and the Brazilian (and I get another text), but I want to hedge my bets like only a true International Playboy does. I tell her to go home and change clothes and meet me at Sushi Samba as I have to go to a “business meeting” right now. She is down. When we part (two kisses salutation) I tell her, “Remember, high-heels and a skirt.” She replies, “I know, you don’t have to tell me.” with a pretty girl’s smile. And I haven’t seen a smile that pretty in a while. My nervous system goes haywire for a split second. A drag of nicotine sparks my synapses and mellows me.
My mind is the enigma filled with broken pictures. The spiritual International Playboy can see clearer now.
I move up Lincoln and get another text from the Argentinian. I respond back, “Almost there”.
I finally get to the Argentinian and Brazilian. They are looking dope. But everything is off. I can’t get the young Cubana out of my mind.
I split as they are both being too difficult.
I roll into Sushi Samba and lock the place down as per usual. I met a cool Argentinian kid from Cordoba at the bar and we both start spitting mad Game at all the fly girls rolling by.
I shoot a text to the Cubana:
“Buisness meeting went perfect. Come meet me at Sushi Samba to celebrate”. (Smooth text).
She responds back right away, “Yaa! Getting out of the shower. See you there soon.”
It’s on. Got to like a girl that loves your success. And Glad I hedged my bets like Kyle Bass.
When she arrives, she is a vision of youthful beauty. She looks like a Cubana Pin-Up Model (which actually happens to be her job). We enter through the side door, as I have the doorman on lock. Her her vibe goes from romantic expectation to dreamy absorption to erotic playfulness quicker than a Salsa dance in Havana.
She has shed the hipster clothes and looks stunning in high heels like all Miami girls do.
We hit it off in dope style. She digs the young-dashing-handsome-mysterious-false grinning-soft spoken-with a wild side-well dressed-millionaire-smuggler type vibe that I give off. Like all Miami girls do.
She knows the DJ and tells him to play this track, which just came out at the time:
She dances by herself for me as every guy in Sushi Samba is checking her out. I stand at the bar, smoking a grit, Custom Suited Down; the envy of every guy in Sushi Samba.
She can really dance.
We get a few more drinks and split. She gives a little resistance, but I come with the “Above is the black poison clouds, You only got one life so enjoy it now” type illmatic Futuristic Game that even top players will finally catch on to in 5-10 years. So I’m not really sweating it.
On my exit, I shake a bunch of hands; guys giving me props, and people I know.
Am I Apostle or Beast? Either way, I am Colossal on Streets.
We get to my apartment. The key goes in the door and