... down a hole.

 The news that Goldman Sachs is seeking a few good-looking, ethnically-diverse interns to compete in its increasingly public S.M.U.G. program (Specious Megalomaniacs Undermining Government) has would-be Cinderellas buying up Blankfein bars like they're running out of milk & honey.

If you’re hungry for wealth, power & status, yet more aesthetically suited for the moral façade of public service, the Goldman Sachs' S.M.U.G. program may be the golden ticket you’ve been looking for.

Since America’s first pigmented president found a winning ticket and the top spot at Goldman's biggest candy factory, S.M.U.G. recruiters have enjoyed a tidal wave of interest from the overachieving underclasses. 

Unfortunately, the program only takes the most comprehensively census-baffling & small-handed to fill its high-powered positions, so there’s no need for the grab-happy or marginally purebred to get their hope on.

“We're not trying to be ironically inclusive, like a P. Diddy White Party,  we're not in retail for Christ's sake, but these are media-driven times, the propaganda is Unforgivable, sure, but it makes shit smell sweet, lets be honest.  The face of an organization like ours has to be as diverse as a T-mobile ad, as green as a fair trade banana and elusive like the Easter bunny.  Besides, doing God’s work is a lot easier when your dick's dipped in sugar, capiche?”  – Lloyd Blankfein

The S.M.U.G. alums of old no doubt recall when the program was more secretive & ruthlessly excluding, nevertheless, they always seem ready to sing praise for the golden ticket,

“I thought life had peaked in Ivy League, seriously, listen to me.  Haze, hazing mine, minority students desperate to join the, uh, the rank n' file of American power brokers seemed to be as good as it got.  Coming up in the 70s, dream, dreaming of exploiting good-looking lobbyists from the NAACP was a groovy acid trip, it just wasn't real enough.  When G, G.W. arrived, jib-jabbering with a chocolate dipped staff,  I knew there was a golden ticket in there for me, too.  When Goldman finally propped my stuttering ass up at the helm of the devil's delight, uh, the treasury, and I got to dip my dick in a giant vat, vat of melted, chocolate souls, just like Lloyd promised.  Saying the harvest of the American sweet-dream machine has been bountiful is the un, understatement of the century.” – Henry Paulson

If you enjoy insensitive sensibilities, please check out the new Robbin' Hood t-shirt.  It's Ben Bernanke in his early 20s, back when he was "straight up robbin' fools," long before peer pressure made him get "a real job."  A great look for the activist or ironic financier  looking for laughs at the next uptown shindig.