Numbers dressed up in fancy suits pretending to be words.
The total value of a company's shares, calculated by multiplying the stock price by the number of shares, which sounds scientific until you realize the stock price is based on vibes. A trillion-dollar market cap just means a lot of people collectively agreed on a very large imaginary number.
The terrifying phone call from your broker informing you that your borrowed-money bets have gone south and you need to cough up more cash immediately. It's the financial equivalent of your landlord and your bookie showing up at the same time demanding payment.
When two companies combine to become one larger, more dysfunctional company with twice the middle management. It's always sold as a "merger of equals" and always ends with one side updating their resumes within six months.
A 10% drop in the stock market that financial experts insist is healthy and normal, like telling someone getting punched in the face that it's good for their bone density. The word correction implies the market was wrong before, raising the question of when it's ever right.
Pertaining to local city government, or a bond issued by said government that lets you bet on whether a town can pay its debts. Municipal bonds are beloved by tax-averse investors who trust city councils more than they probably should. It's the financial equivalent of believing your local DMV will process your paperwork efficiently.
Internal accounting focused on providing information for management decisions rather than external reporting. Unlike financial accounting's rigid rules, managerial accounting embraces whatever analysis helps executives decide which division to blame for poor performance.
The dollar amount below which errors or omissions don't matter enough to disclose in financial statements—essentially the accounting version of 'close enough for government work.' It's how auditors decide which issues are worth losing sleep over.
The practice of valuing an asset at its current market price rather than what you paid for it, forcing you to confront the brutal reality of your investment decisions. It's like weighing yourself daily during the holidays—technically accurate but emotionally devastating.
The accounting concept that expenses should be recorded in the same period as the revenues they helped generate, because timing matters. It's why you can't expense the entire marketing budget in January even though that's when you paid for it.
The corporate euphemism for 'stealing,' typically involving someone with fiduciary responsibility who decided that 'other people's money' is really more of a suggestion than a rule. It's the white-collar crime of choice for accountants, executives, and nonprofit board members who convinced themselves they were just 'borrowing' the funds temporarily. Unlike shoplifting a candy bar, this usually involves spreadsheets, offshore accounts, and a lawyer explaining why technically it's 'misappropriation' not 'theft.'
When executives negotiate a special deal ensuring they get paid even if the company fails and everyone else gets screwed. Because apparently captains should abandon ship with golden parachutes.
The magical percentage retailers add to their costs to create what they optimistically call a "selling price," essentially the difference between what they paid and what they're convinced you'll pay. In tech, it's the invisible code that tells computers how to format text without making it look like a ransom note. Both definitions involve making something look more expensive or prettier than it actually is.
The threshold at which an error or omission would influence the decisions of financial statement users, essentially the line between 'oops' and 'fraud.' It's subjective, context-dependent, and endlessly debatable.
In finance, it's the magical number you get when dividing a company's stock price by its earnings—the higher the multiple, the more investors believe in fairy tales about future growth. Also known as the P/E ratio, it tells you how many years of current profits you're paying for today. Basically, it's the market's way of saying 'trust me bro' with numbers.