Numbers dressed up in fancy suits pretending to be words.
Interest earning interest on itself, which Einstein allegedly called the eighth wonder of the world, though he probably never had a credit card balance. It's magical when it works for you and absolutely devastating when it works against you.
Money spent on big-ticket items that a company will use for years, like equipment, buildings, or that espresso machine in the CEO's office. Accountants love CapEx because they get to depreciate it over time, which is basically financial foreplay.
The movement of money in and out of a business, which in most startups flows primarily in the out direction at an alarming velocity. Positive cash flow means more money coming in than going out, a concept that seems simple until you try to actually achieve it.
Digital money that exists solely on computers, consumes more electricity than some countries, and can lose 40% of its value because a billionaire tweeted a dog meme. It was invented to replace traditional banking and has instead created an entirely new way to lose your life savings.
The person or institution you owe money to, who will periodically remind you of this fact with varying degrees of politeness. In the great financial food chain, creditors sit above debtors and pray they'll actually get paid back. They range from your friendly neighborhood bank to that guy you borrowed twenty bucks from in college and somehow never repaid.
Short-term unsecured promissory notes issued by corporations to fund immediate needs, typically maturing in under 270 days to avoid SEC registration. Think of it as corporate IOUs for companies with good enough credit that people actually accept them.
The art of making numbers tell whatever story you want them to tell, staying just barely on the legal side of fraud. It's lying with spreadsheets and a CPA license.
Short for cryptocurrency, the digital money that exists entirely in the cloud and whose value fluctuates more wildly than your mood on a Monday morning. It's either the future of finance or the world's most elaborate Ponzi scheme, depending on whether you bought Bitcoin at $100 or $60,000. Also refers to cryptography, the actual useful technology that crypto enthusiasts sometimes remember exists.
Money, equipment, or assets used to generate more wealth—essentially the financial fuel that makes the economic engine go vroom. In finance, it's the cash you invest; in economics, it's one of the holy trinity of production factors alongside labor and land. Venture capitalists have lots of it, and startups are perpetually hunting for it like caffeinated treasure hunters.
A structured security backed by a pool of leveraged loans, sliced into tranches with varying risk levels. Like a financial layer cake where the top tier is reasonably safe and the bottom is essentially a gamble on corporate junk.
An economic system where the means of production are privately owned and operated for profit, creating a delightful paradox where the invisible hand of the market somehow manages to be both magical and occasionally prone to slapping people in the face. It's the reason your coffee costs $7 and someone had to invent the term 'disruption.' Love it or hate it, it's what's paying for your avocado toast.
The accounting guideline that requires recognizing expenses and liabilities immediately but only recognizing revenues and assets when reasonably certain—essentially pessimism as professional policy. It's why accountants anticipate losses but never gains.
Either the total value of a company's outstanding shares (market cap) or the act of writing things with capital letters—context matters. In finance, it's how much the market thinks your company is worth, which may bear no resemblance to reality. Also refers to recording costs as assets rather than expenses, because accountants love making things complicated.
The lifeblood of any business—the actual money moving in and out, as opposed to imaginary 'revenue' on paper. You can be profitable on an income statement and still go bankrupt if this isn't positive, which is why CFOs wake up in cold sweats thinking about it. It's the difference between looking rich and actually being able to pay your bills.
A contractual clause allowing a company to demand return of previously paid compensation, typically when executives are caught cooking the books or performance metrics turn out to be fiction. It's the corporate equivalent of 'give me back my money.'
In finance, a security that's having an identity crisis—it starts as one thing (usually a bond) but can transform into something else (usually stock) like a financial Transformer. Investors love them because they get the safety of debt with the upside potential of equity. It's also a car with a roof that comes off, but that's significantly less exciting to accountants.
A trader who believes that staring at price charts and drawing lines on graphs can predict the future, also known as a technical analyst. They're basically financial astrologers with better software.
Transactions between related entities in different countries, creating a transfer pricing nightmare and tax optimization opportunity. It's where legitimate business meets aggressive tax planning, separated by a very fine line.
The original purchase price of an asset used to calculate capital gains taxes, proving that the IRS wants documentation of every financial decision you've ever made. Lose track of it and prepare for tax-time panic.
Reserves that companies stash away during good times to smooth out earnings during bad quarters, like a financial rainy day fund that violates accounting principles. It's earnings management dressed up in respectable terminology.
The time between paying suppliers and collecting from customers, measured in days. Negative is magical—you get paid before paying bills, turning working capital into a profit center. Positive means you're funding your customers' purchases with your own money.
Combining the financial statements of a parent company and its subsidiaries into a single unified report, eliminating intercompany transactions to avoid counting the same revenue twice. It's like merging family budgets while hiding the money you owe your brother.
To verify that the sum of row totals equals the sum of column totals in a spreadsheet, because trusting your formulas is for amateurs. It's the accounting equivalent of checking your math twice before raising your hand.
Loans with few or no maintenance covenants that would normally protect lenders, essentially trusting borrowers to be responsible without supervision. It's the financial equivalent of lending your car to a teenager with no curfew.